Poetry On Odyssey: My Loves In Life
The smell of corn fields and pumpkins in the air
With all the windows down,
And music blasting through the radio
Since it is the start of a new year, I always like to begin every new year with something positive. One year I might listen to my favorite song at the time or another year I might watch my favorite movie at the time (one year I watched "The Hunger Games" once I got back from a family party). This year, I've decided to write a poem about things I love because nothing is more positive than writing about things that you love.
This poem was inspired by Rupert Brooke's poem "The Great Lover." In it, he lists different things that he loves in his life while also following a specific rhyming scheme, so I decided to mimic the rhyme scheme but include the things that I love in my life.
My Loves in Life
These I have loved:
Petrichor and maybe something more
Like the clack of heels on a marble floor
Pens that bleed, a meadow of rainbow flowers
The smell of freshly cut grass, and spontaneous rain showers
The sound of the delicate breeze
Rustling the trees
On a cool summer afternoon, singing along to a song
I don't understand, but will always belong
To: Summer nights that never end
Paired with watching videos of words meticulously penned
Animals curled up on my stomach in the middle of a thunderstorm
Breathing along to my heartbeat, keeping us both warm
Watching the sky in the morning turn from pink and orange to blue
Along with anything that looks and smells new
Driving through Hunterdon County, wind blowing through my hair,
The smell of corn fields and pumpkins in the air
With all the windows down,
And music blasting through the radio. Taking trips back to my father's hometown
Rosetta's chicken soup on a scorching Puglian day
And watching plays and musicals on Broadway
A clear August midnight sky in the country, sprinkled with yellow stars
and everything beautiful, the patterns and colors on the planet Mars
The sound of a soft spring stream gurgling along to its own
Sweet melody, fresh creamy stracciatella in an ice cream cone
Black gel pens that glide on the paper like Olympic skaters
And the manner and dress of some restaurant waiters
The drama of a bonfire in July, words that rhyme
The quick clacking of typewriter keys and the ending chime
Laughing until I can't breathe, the smell of bacon, nostalgia in a song
Five soft blankets protecting me from the December air, things that go wrong
Dog fur dancing on my fingertips, books that smell like history
Hot summer nights with fireflies in the air, and libraries filled with mystery
Variations of the colors green and blue
Songs that I can dance to
Clair de lune
and a red balloon
All these have been my loves.
