Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative.
– Oscar Wilde
Just the facts…
You are the brightest point of the candles flame
The dandelions in my clover
The first bite of cheesecake
And the solstice of my summer
*
You are the oasis I’ve searched for In my forty years wandering
The checkered flag and hurrahs
At the finish line
You will never be the chip in my teacup
The croutons in my salad
Nor a frog croaking by the pond
*
And you are not the stapler on my desk
You are the warmth of the fire
Chasing away my chill
And the conductor of the symphony
Spilling from my harp strings
*
Perhaps you are the lavender sachet
Tucked beneath my pillow – scenting my dreams
The rhubarb in my pie
And the vibrant oils layered on my canvas
*
Did you realize that I am the foam
Riding the crashing waves, spilling across your rocks,
Pilings and coastlines
the chocolate in your milk
And the peanut butter for your jelly
*
I am the wick for your lantern
The molasses in the gingerbread; full, thickly sweet
With a kick
And the firefly when you lose your way
*
But more than all of this
I will be the suede patch on the sleeve
Of your tweed coat
Hoisting a pint at the Everyman Bistro near
The Mercy River while Beatles on the jukebox take you back in time
I will be the Eleanor Rigby of your memories
Bisous,
Léa