Thank you!!!

James,

Wow, you gave me goose bumps!!! OK now I’ve found my favorite poem This is the type of poem that I would write, but not this good. I mean, I felt it, the pain, the fulfillment. WOW!!!!

Thirst

The sun beats down upon the brow;
its pulsing pounding causes pain,
as cotton, trapped by rough parched lips,
keeps pushing on the swollen tongue.

Then visions dance upon the sand
of sweet refreshing crystal pools
and ordered thoughts evaporate
as weakness starts to ebb from limb.

The pounding throbbing head gives in
as vision blurs and strength gives out.
Then lying on the hard dry ground,
one thought alone is kept: “water”

When life beats down upon the soul
with heartache, cruelty and spite
and causes pain beyond belief
The soul begins to seek respite.

Then visions dance upon the mind
that life can not be this unkind.
Then weakness enters in the soul
as doubt is cast upon belief.

The aching heart begins to bleed
as faith begins to ebb and fail.
While crying then, in deep despair,
the soul begins to feel real thirst.

How sweet to press against the lips
a cup and wet the parched dry tongue!
How sweet to drink when thirst had reigned
and feel as strength returns to limb!

How sweet it’d be to have a cup
that bore a drink that gave relief
When souls have had good cause to weep
to buoy one’s faith in spite of grief!

Does such a cup exist today?
Where might one go to find this cup
to drink the drink that fills the soul
and gives relief to those who thirst?

©23 Oct 2007 James Garner

Water Fight

They had brightly colored pistols;
I, a dark green plastic pitcher;
So commenced the little battle
on that August afternoon.

Smiling, giggling, laughing, spying,
they would try to sneak around, but
I could hear their loud commotion
as they squeezed their puny triggers.

Streams of wetness on the chest and
in the face and reaching back I
swung my pitcher drenching them
while they dashed to miss my arc.

Round and round we ran around the
yard, laughing, screeching, smiling,
squirting, tossing, giggling, panting.
Then at last the guns went still.

Pitcher empty, guns now dry, we
giggled on the ground and watched as
clouds slipped by. I thought my children
truly are my greatest assets.

©23 Oct 2007 James Garner

Sandra: OK, understood. I could see those glassy black streets, too, and all of it.

James: Now you’ve got me going! I’ll have to try something on salt some time.

I love that you can feel my poem though.

You have a wonderful way of showing beauty in the most ordinary places. I felt wonderful reading your poem. Definatly continue writing.