Entitled to Love


Dandelion-Fluff_Sun-Shining__104258 (Photo credit: Public Domain Photos)

When we were new,
and life, that skeleton gate
upon which the ivy of our season
clung and climbed, we bloomed
like flames within stacked kindling.

We burst from darkness,
your spark upon the dry past of one
who should never love another.
But when your spark flared,
my black heart dissolved.

A twilight of promise grew
where deep shadows and
brightest illumination
crossed in a jumble of
fuzzy possibility.

We chose not to wait for
the full bloom of what
the night voices,
the midnight call of lovers,
said would come.

What would they know of
the sere and broken tinder
from our time untended
in the green years of lost,
if ever lived, youth?

And so we watch, together,
as they step off the steps from
one side of their lover’s cages
to the other, held captive
like exhibits owned by others’ greed.

We sway free in our light
and lightness like dandelions,
ready to burst and fly together
upon whatever breeze takes us
to all our tomorrows.

A Free Write Friday exercise based on my friend Kellie Elmore’s prompt to use one of the following titles as inspiration for a poem:

“Dandelion Season”
“Phone Call at Midnight”
“The Green Years”
“The Human Zoo”
“The Fires of Spring”
“The Ivy Covered Gate”

Typically, I chose them all.

22 thoughts on “Entitled to Love

  1. I adore how well you weaved them all together! I love this part as it reminds me of a certain summer with a certain someone some time ago:
    “A twilight of promise grew
    where deep shadows and
    brightest illumination
    crossed in a jumble of
    fuzzy possibility.”

    It made me smile and remember. Thank you. Lovely penning. So happy you made it!

  2. This poem does seem more woven than written…a seamless expression of thoughts wound together with a kaleidoscope of colored words…vivid and beautiful. I will revisit to read it again.

  3. This lovely woven piece, putting together those divers titles, was a great imaginative response to the prompt. Some of my best poems come from word list prompts; and yes, what emerges is free-ranging, fenceless, celebrating liberty; thanks.

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