Sunday Scribblings #57 – Oldest Friend
Quiet acceptance
from a knowing smile
glistens from the lips of my oldest friend.
Gold and fuscia and indigo and magenta and silver and canary yellow
are the colours that swim through
the hair of my oldest friend.
A gentle embrace
to greet me
or wish me well is a predictable offering from my oldest friend.
“Come with me,
comfort lives here”,
says the attentive gaze of my oldest friend.
Stories, fairy tales, encouragement, and moments of sorrow and joy
are the offerings
which seep from the pores of my oldest friend.
Nurturing mannerisms offered through
a simple meal
prepared with consciousness by the loving hands of my oldest friend.
Filter-less listening
reassuring gestures
a familiar place to be me.
That’s what comes from my oldest friend.
Speech-less apologies follow misunderstandings
unexpected but always there
lingering, well-timed gestures of remorse I give to and receive from my oldest friend.
Effervescence, hatred, jokes and smelly shoes
make me the person that I share with my oldest friend.
Drum beats, dance, loss, discovery, sunshine, lattes and thunderstorms
dot the path
and are what I share with my oldest friend.
I still can’t figure out who your oldest friend is.
Bad English of mine 🙁
This describes friendship perfectly!
Thanks for stopping by my blog!
Yard forking is something akin to toilet papering a yard- you take about a million plastic forks and secretly stick them in your nemesis’ yard.
you can spell out messages (if there’s time) or just stick as many as you can to cover the whole yard. It is a childish prank – fun to do, and a lot easier to clean up than the toilet paper if you get caught!
I loved the words you chose in the little details of a friendship. Very creative.
what a nice poem about your oldest friend…
i really liked …
Filter-less listening
reassuring gestures
a familiar place to be me.
That’s what comes from my oldest friend.