Happy Valentine’s Day, friends!
May each of us share love with someone who needs it today.
And for you, here is Robert Frost’s “Love and a Question.”
They Are Beautiful
They are beautiful.
the way he looks at her,
like he can’t believe she sits there,
real, and raw, and regal before him.
He grips her hand like a lifeline,
and she traces her fingers down his arm
like a map back to shore.
They keep inching toward each other,
entangling further and further across the table,
hearts barely held apart by separate bodies.
He is her world,
and she is the universe through which he spins,
madly, wildly, flying,
but tethered in orbit
by the assurance of her hold.
They exist in their own space,
rolling through the void,
infinitesimal as dust, immense as galaxies,
and they are beautiful.
– s. Clark
Missing Piece
She was beautiful.
The way her hair twisted
and fell across rose-stained cheeks,
like soft, dark smoke, curling
over a pale, spring morning.
Her lips were pink and parted
in an invitation.
The way she hid her eyes halfway
beneath blushful, batting lashes
and sang her words like a lullaby.
She moved like the wind,
alternatingly cool and coy.
And he thought, as he watched her,
as we all hope to, in our time,
that this was perhaps the missing piece
of him, come home at last to rest.
– s. Clark
A Worthy Destruction
He was beautiful.
The way his grin sparked in his eyes
and teased his mouth into a tilt.
His gaze was bold and brown,
and full of mischief.
His voice was a storm in her ears
that left her mind clouded.
He wore his strength softly,
gentle hands with scarred knuckles,
calm, composured confidence.
And she wondered, as she watched him,
as we all do, in our way,
whether this might just be a person
worth being destroyed for.
– s. Clark
Shigé Clark Writing 