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Summer Love

9 Aug

They met in the summer,
on the south end of Pawleys Island
where the waves slap high-fives
and the north wind runs free.
And on one star-filled night,
while the moon shone bright,
the green marsh fell deeply
in love with the blue sea.

You could feel it everywhere,
their love was swirling in the air.
She loved his blue intensity,
he loved her green positivity.
It was right as the tides,
so it came as no surprise,
when the dashing blue groom,
took the luminous green bride.

For the great wedding feast
came the turtles, from the east
and other privileged guests,
including the egrets from the west.
The mullets came from up north,
a procession of pelicans from down south,
and the blue creek crabs
just popped in, unannounced.

“I will love you when it storms,
and when its sunny, I will rejoice.”
“I will provide a place for you,
I will listen for your voice.”
“And whether the tides are high or low,
no matter how the wind blows,
we will ride it all together
so our precious love grows.”

As long as time will be,
every year on Pawleys,
all shall celebrate the day
the green marsh
married the blue sea.
Because Forever, the blue sea
will run his gentle fingers through her hair.
Forever, the green marsh
will whisper sweet nothings in his ear.
And when only sand and shells remain,
the air will still smell like champagne.

Weddings

Little Things that are actually Big Things

15 Jul

a poem of thanksgiving

shoes to protect my tender feet,
a campfire and its healing heat
a boat, and sail to make it heel
the compass, the sextant, and the wheel

a pen, with all its inky bliss
a big bear hug, a deep French kiss.

spectacles for my weary eyes
journalists, to help me realize
the on/off switch, zeroes and ones
spreadsheets, and balanced sums

big fluffy towels, to lie on hot sand
phone calls from friends, helping hands

the hot water heater, a convertible two-seater,
a syncopated beat, iambic pentameter

a passport, for when I need to roam
a light on, for when I come home
photographs to keep my memories true,
especially my fondest ones of you

slow dancing, with intimate grace,
a blanket, and its warm embrace,
a pillow for my sleepy head
and silence, after all is said.

I wrote this poem around Thanksgiving 2012, just reflecting on things, inventions, contributions to society that I am grateful for. Copyright 2012 Lupe Tucker.

The internet is full of rants. Help tip the balance: today, simply be thankful for something (or someone).

NYC Moma

View from the 4th Floor gallery of the Museum of Modern Art

“Look at your immediate surroundings with a fresh eye ..”

Mil y uno

3 Jun

Mil conversaciones
con mil sentidos,
mil esperanzas
con mil suspiros,
Sin contar las
mil miradas
con mil anhelos,
mil jugadas,
mil duelos.

Mil horas
esperando.
Mil dias
sin verano.
Hay mil formas
de olvidar,
pero mil formas más
de recordar.

Yo te juro:
con solo una palabra
mil campanas
suenan en mi alma,
y mil millas-
mil millas
no son nada.

This is my very first complete poem written in Spanish. Lots of influences coming into play here. Thank you Miss Aurea Perez  and Mrs. Miriam Torranzos, two wonderful teachers who shared their love of poetry with their students, and enriched my life in the process.

Mil campanas suenan en mi corazón.

Mil campanas suenan en mi corazón. Butterflies, by Enrique Tábara, photographed at the Hilton Colon hotel in Guayaquil, Ecuador

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