A Curriers Blind Date In Manchester NH

26 Aug


 I was invited to an Art show that was painted

long before I was born—

Seven decades ago.


Its beauty was impressive.

Yet—  I kept walking along

Smiling at each ornate frame, checking my watch,

flirting with my chaperone—  waiting to go home.


History with all its beauty and faults

cannot survive without sharing its thoughts

—as they did on my evening’s drive home.


Drowsy with perception’s wine,

its indigestible sandwiches 

sprinkled with beauty and awe

unable to personally imagine or to be explained.


 I will see her again.



Posted by on August 26, 2017 in Companionship, Love, Prose Poetry, Zen


Tags: , , ,

20 responses to “A Curriers Blind Date In Manchester NH

  1. Gillena Cox

    August 28, 2017 at 3:47 pm

    Monday WRites 120 is live, i invite you to link in

    much love…

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Myrna Rosa

    August 28, 2017 at 11:57 am

    I can see you appreciate art and the opportunities it can create. Nice. Hope you see her again soon and all goes well.

    Liked by 1 person


    August 28, 2017 at 8:31 am

    I guess the effect sinks in over time. I like “perception’s wine.”

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Gillena Cox

    August 28, 2017 at 8:10 am

    Monday WRites 120 is live, i invite you to link in

    much love…

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Gillena Cox

    August 28, 2017 at 8:08 am

    ✿ܓLovely Tryst

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Rosemary Nissen-Wade

    August 27, 2017 at 10:06 pm

    Nature beats art, huh?

    Liked by 1 person

  7. thotpurge

    August 27, 2017 at 9:54 pm

    He he… 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Magaly Guerrero

    August 27, 2017 at 9:21 pm

    You will, you will, you will… There, I said it 3 times. And we all know that in fairy tales (and poems), everything in three must happen. 😀

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Mary

    August 27, 2017 at 8:42 pm

    Ah, there is a bit of mystery here. Nice!

    Liked by 1 person

  10. mhatter99

    August 27, 2017 at 7:59 pm

    Love that ending. It says it all.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Sherry Marr

    August 27, 2017 at 6:51 pm

    Indeed, that sounds promising! Smiles.

    Liked by 1 person

  12. Susan Chast

    August 27, 2017 at 4:47 pm

    To some, they still speak, haha. Yet, with so much present stimulation, who could eat the history? I remember when my cry was “Out of the museums and into the streets!”

    Liked by 1 person

  13. Bekkie Sanchez

    August 27, 2017 at 3:41 pm


    Liked by 1 person

  14. kanzensakura

    August 27, 2017 at 3:17 pm

    I love the last line in this poem…as always, there is an ulterior motive. Hope she will be there!

    Liked by 1 person

  15. Björn Rudberg (brudberg)

    August 27, 2017 at 1:37 pm

    Oh yes… there is always a purpose.

    Liked by 1 person

  16. Beverly Crawford

    August 27, 2017 at 1:17 pm

    A day well spent …

    Liked by 1 person

  17. Sumana Roy

    August 27, 2017 at 11:53 am

    Ha…well put 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  18. Rall

    August 27, 2017 at 10:15 am

    LOL…..wicked !

    Liked by 1 person

  19. Paul F. Lenzi

    August 26, 2017 at 11:21 pm

    I like a man with a plan…

    Liked by 1 person

  20. Shawna

    August 26, 2017 at 10:15 pm

    That last line made me grin. You knew where the real art was. 🙂

    I love this:

    “Drowsy with perception’s wine,
    its indigestible sandwiches”

    Liked by 1 person


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