I have built a place for you
Where the inside of your shoe
Is softer than the thick and multicoloured moss
We find upon fierce northern rocks
Softer than a pygmy lullaby
A place
With doors of living wood
Trees that sway away
As you enter
And shut themselves behind you
The leaves that ornament these trees
Are full of poetry
Green words written in gold
By delirious princes
Lost in love
Warrior words
Recreating distant homes
Worried words of mothers
Words of friendship
Written in the deep dark ink of trust
Promises made and signed in blood
Upon thick parchment
Sleeping words awoken for you
Shepherd words about their camel herds
Wise words by men who live in isolation
Sailor words about the ocean
Exotic flower words
Words that describe the flight of birds
Words of pain
Glass words
Last words
Vast words of regret about great loves that could have been
Tombstone words
Words written on the morning of the birth
Of the first child
Of a new generation
Of a noble family
Words written to be free of tyranny
Words for you
Written by me
Collected in the leaves of giant trees
That sacrifice their bodies
Just to please you
As a doorway to this precious place
And when the wind blows hard outside
The voices of great poets rise
Inside the leaves
Perfect polyphony
I have built for you
A kitchen lit with the bright hopes of youth
Beneath three Russian chandeliers
A living feast appears in the dining room
The table is of ancient marble
The food always renewed
Endless degrees of taste spring from the plates
Explosions of first love upon the tongue
Sushi subtlety
Culinary architecture
The taste of adventure
Mouthfuls of meat
Potatoes meant to make you feel at home
The maturity of cheese
Recipes
Rediscovered on the dusty shelves of libraries
In prestigious universities
Strong bursts of lemon
Seafood fantasies
Elegant pastries
Candy store variety
Every single type of tea
Blue Mountain coffee
Subtle flavour blends
Perfected through conservative lineages
Of Moroccan mothers
Identity
Can be lost or found at this table
It is always here for you
In this place I have built for you
On winter evenings there are cozy living rooms
With carpets so thick you could lie down and sleep
Carpets woven by nights of mine
Great nights that lived and died to soften your time
Long logs of loyalty burn in the fireplace
Spreading deep orange across your face
Solo piano on the stereo
Wild beasts lie obediently
Rest your head against warm fur
The depth of lion breath
The slow rising and falling of his chest
Loosens every muscle in you
Now you can relax and laugh
If your little arm is tickled
By his mighty tongue
For you a green lawn on summer mornings
To sit for hours with me
Orange juice and coffee
Lazy newspaper stories
Of a strange and distant world of hurt
Far far away from this garden
Where the stream laughs like a schoolyard
The pond welcomes giant swans
And mountains stand guard on the horizon
Keeping our enemies out
The smell of ocean is ever-present
Its breath like a drumbeat through the days
Afternoons when horsemen compete for your amusement
African dancers capture you
Between two pages of this poem
You are torn from tranquility
Stampeding through some dusty plain
Fire on your face
Laughing loudly
Plunging through a mirror framed in Timbuktu
Emerging refreshed from the pond
The swans annoyed at your intrusion
You drip across the lawn
And find me swinging my pen like a sword
By the patio door
Memories invade you on the beach at sunset
Ocean tips at my feet
I stand with my hands in my pockets and my pants rolled up
My face red with sun
Singing some nostalgic Spanish melody
While you weep at the passing of the day
I have built for you a place where people always pray
Evenings are filled with the memory of God
Friends visit
We drink sweet tea
And live in poetry
Hallways speak of past adventures
Pictures and artefacts
I have built a place where your clothes always fit right
Magnificent
Comfortable
Pearls of wisdom grow from your evening gown
Traces of gold surround your eyes
A veil of moonlight covers your hair
Upon each finger is a jewel for every type of little joy
You are different and more beautiful
Every time you cross a mirror
In a house of poetry
All things explode from oneness into lush diversity
On some days you find yourself in a simple wood cabin
With the smell of leather and pine and total food in a heavy black pot
I chop wood for the stove
Outside
Through the window of wide eyes
White snow shines for miles
On the table by a can of coffee cream
My pen sleeps on a napkin
You wake it up
To find new poetry in its sheets
For you a place with a sleepy cat stretching on the kitchen floor
Instant coffee and sliced bread in the toaster
Crumbs in the butter if you need reality
For you a place that is lonely without you
Rooms that are dark without you
Ghosts everywhere
Nobody likes an empty house
For you I’ve built a place that needs your beauty strength and grace
A place where you are noticed
Every day admired
A place inspired
By you
A place of poetry
A place of possibility
A place between a dream and full reality
Jason Sparkes © 2003
Where the inside of your shoe
Is softer than the thick and multicoloured moss
We find upon fierce northern rocks
Softer than a pygmy lullaby
A place
With doors of living wood
Trees that sway away
As you enter
And shut themselves behind you
The leaves that ornament these trees
Are full of poetry
Green words written in gold
By delirious princes
Lost in love
Warrior words
Recreating distant homes
Worried words of mothers
Words of friendship
Written in the deep dark ink of trust
Promises made and signed in blood
Upon thick parchment
Sleeping words awoken for you
Shepherd words about their camel herds
Wise words by men who live in isolation
Sailor words about the ocean
Exotic flower words
Words that describe the flight of birds
Words of pain
Glass words
Last words
Vast words of regret about great loves that could have been
Tombstone words
Words written on the morning of the birth
Of the first child
Of a new generation
Of a noble family
Words written to be free of tyranny
Words for you
Written by me
Collected in the leaves of giant trees
That sacrifice their bodies
Just to please you
As a doorway to this precious place
And when the wind blows hard outside
The voices of great poets rise
Inside the leaves
Perfect polyphony
I have built for you
A kitchen lit with the bright hopes of youth
Beneath three Russian chandeliers
A living feast appears in the dining room
The table is of ancient marble
The food always renewed
Endless degrees of taste spring from the plates
Explosions of first love upon the tongue
Sushi subtlety
Culinary architecture
The taste of adventure
Mouthfuls of meat
Potatoes meant to make you feel at home
The maturity of cheese
Recipes
Rediscovered on the dusty shelves of libraries
In prestigious universities
Strong bursts of lemon
Seafood fantasies
Elegant pastries
Candy store variety
Every single type of tea
Blue Mountain coffee
Subtle flavour blends
Perfected through conservative lineages
Of Moroccan mothers
Identity
Can be lost or found at this table
It is always here for you
In this place I have built for you
On winter evenings there are cozy living rooms
With carpets so thick you could lie down and sleep
Carpets woven by nights of mine
Great nights that lived and died to soften your time
Long logs of loyalty burn in the fireplace
Spreading deep orange across your face
Solo piano on the stereo
Wild beasts lie obediently
Rest your head against warm fur
The depth of lion breath
The slow rising and falling of his chest
Loosens every muscle in you
Now you can relax and laugh
If your little arm is tickled
By his mighty tongue
For you a green lawn on summer mornings
To sit for hours with me
Orange juice and coffee
Lazy newspaper stories
Of a strange and distant world of hurt
Far far away from this garden
Where the stream laughs like a schoolyard
The pond welcomes giant swans
And mountains stand guard on the horizon
Keeping our enemies out
The smell of ocean is ever-present
Its breath like a drumbeat through the days
Afternoons when horsemen compete for your amusement
African dancers capture you
Between two pages of this poem
You are torn from tranquility
Stampeding through some dusty plain
Fire on your face
Laughing loudly
Plunging through a mirror framed in Timbuktu
Emerging refreshed from the pond
The swans annoyed at your intrusion
You drip across the lawn
And find me swinging my pen like a sword
By the patio door
Memories invade you on the beach at sunset
Ocean tips at my feet
I stand with my hands in my pockets and my pants rolled up
My face red with sun
Singing some nostalgic Spanish melody
While you weep at the passing of the day
I have built for you a place where people always pray
Evenings are filled with the memory of God
Friends visit
We drink sweet tea
And live in poetry
Hallways speak of past adventures
Pictures and artefacts
I have built a place where your clothes always fit right
Magnificent
Comfortable
Pearls of wisdom grow from your evening gown
Traces of gold surround your eyes
A veil of moonlight covers your hair
Upon each finger is a jewel for every type of little joy
You are different and more beautiful
Every time you cross a mirror
In a house of poetry
All things explode from oneness into lush diversity
On some days you find yourself in a simple wood cabin
With the smell of leather and pine and total food in a heavy black pot
I chop wood for the stove
Outside
Through the window of wide eyes
White snow shines for miles
On the table by a can of coffee cream
My pen sleeps on a napkin
You wake it up
To find new poetry in its sheets
For you a place with a sleepy cat stretching on the kitchen floor
Instant coffee and sliced bread in the toaster
Crumbs in the butter if you need reality
For you a place that is lonely without you
Rooms that are dark without you
Ghosts everywhere
Nobody likes an empty house
For you I’ve built a place that needs your beauty strength and grace
A place where you are noticed
Every day admired
A place inspired
By you
A place of poetry
A place of possibility
A place between a dream and full reality
Jason Sparkes © 2003
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