Poetry of Jennifer Weber
Everything But Mine
Constant you are, like
The fixed nature
Of human needs and wishes
The airy freedom of birds
The grace of fishes
Bright new ideas
All that’s useful by design
You are everything . . .
Everything but mine.
Innocent you are, like
The cool purity
Of summer rain on roses
A bejeweled wingspan that opens
Then closes
Faith that believes
Not waiting for a sign
You are everything . . .
Everything but mine.
Peaceful you are, like
The holy hush
Of small empty churches
Hummingbirds
Wide-eyed owls on perches
Seeing through darkness
Stars that shine
You are everything . . .
Everything but mine.
Beautiful you are, like
The verdant promise
Of perfect springs
Tiaras, arias
The heart that sings
In spite of pain
A spark of the divine
You are everything . . .
Everything but mine.
That Day
Far afield of the dove-gray cottage’s
Windblown creaking summer walls
Blue butterfly squatted in green clover
Quaffing a domed dewdrop
With tempered bejeweled alacrity
Indigo informing emerald.
Joy was as rain in the way you drank me
The way your hands consumed me
When cotton clouds scudded purposefully
In that eternal openness above
And without straining we could both hear
The others’ voices not a lamb’s-length away.
But the reedy refuge enwombed us
And the sea’s thunder soundproofed it
As your insistent mouth gave me succor
And my eager arms filled with you as
With great masses of wildflowers
As fragrant as they are free.
That day could not equate to timid spring
Had nothing of fall’s speechless gravity
Did not acquaint with winter’s pale soul
Clothed itself in no particular garment
It was only us, only ours, yours, mine
And for that it was gloriously enough.
This
This
Blessed throbbing redundancy
Faintly cautious harmony
And steamy cant of sloe eyes
Softening a fierce and instant aura
This
Relevant incendiary modernity
Unfragile ageless mien
And curving lyric of a lip
Lush and precious real estate
This
Is and ever will be
You.
Besides writing poetry regularly, Jennifer Weber is at work on two novels, has several short stories sketched out, loves flash fiction, has been published several times on Six Sentences, a website for writers, and writes her own weblog, I’m Having a Thought Here. She lives in Columbia, S.C., where she is a court reporter and her husband, Greg, is a small business owner. They have four children, ages 19 to 27, and two granddaughters.