21 December 2010

If Not for the Want of a Party

for Dave and Kate because I love you

In Italy, in a low-valleyed vineyard
Colleen Dewhurst’s laughter floats
on scents of bay laurel and candle wax.
I’m sitting at her table with Len, and Kate
who keeps vying for Thich Nhat Hanh’s time.
(She heard he likes Vienna Teng.)

My great grandmother smiles with
30 year old eyes full of stories
to waft through the air while my
children replenish her wine, and
fill her spirit with their own.

The Dalai Lama’s saffron robes contrast
the wild bougainvillea, where laughter
bubbles forth to evoke Montana mountain streams.
A seated circle of children surrounds him in the grass.
The group glows.

Holding hands and smiling David and Katie
tangle through the expansive vineyard’s maze.
Punctuating tales of grapes with frequent laughter,
love permeates each step taken.

John Kohler rides in on the gloaming.
He ruffles Kate’s hair, and they
play. Her fingers tickle ivory,
his caress a shining sax,
the fingers of others
dab at corners—at
tears that enter their eyes.

If not for the want of a party,
if not for the prompt of a want,
this party would be vapor.
Instead David’s piano appears
applying pressure to his fingertips
the keys descend, Kate’s voice rises
and moments turn into
wants that can only imagine
things that never will be.

The prompt at We Write Poems this week is to "say what you want." I want a party in Italy. Some of the guests have passed on to other places, and live now in hearts, memories, music, tears, and laughter. It felt good to gather them together for this party in Italy.


Anonymous said...

I like it. You really captured who they are in the same way I think of them. Good job!

Elizabeth said...

For some reason, this poem made me think of the Dead Man form we did last week. Not sure why but it has that taste about it. I like your vivid images and envy the ability to see such varied guests together at table and party. Happy Holidays,


flaubert said...

Brenda this has captured what I feel many times around the holidays. If I could only be with lost loved ones.
You have painted a vivid picture with your words.
Warm wishes for a wonderful holiday.

Anonymous said...

Your fantasy party sounds like one of the best kind, with all the right people, with laughter and music. Thank you for sharing it with us.

irene said...

This has such a golden Tuscany feel. I love that the Dalai Lama is part of the setting. Nice to have you back Brenda.

Wayne Pitchko said...

I really liked what you did here Brenda....thanks for sharing....and enjoy the moment and the Season....cheers

gautami tripathy said...

Very well written. I like the feelings brought out by this..

Merry Christmas to you and you family!! May your muse be always with you.

dead woman and her wants

neil reid said...

What a wonderful painting this poem presents! Rich and textured, billowed in the wind. A subtle brush stroke here, another there... with that quality of a masterful painting (so appropriate to the scene) that seems to reveal the surface in detail yet imparts a sense of wondering for further stories yet to be. Maybe we can call that quality "depth". It certainly makes me want to be there myself, to the known and unknown both.

There's a lot to appreciate as well learn from what this poem does! So glad to hear your voice again.

Jingle said...

lovely plots.
thanks for showing other kinds of culture..

Jingle said...


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