The Porcupine and the Pine Cone

I loved you the way
the Porcupine loves the Pine Cone.
kindred hearts
sharing shape and form,
pressed together for warmth
through the night’s chill.

But between my spines and your spurs’
one of us was bound to get hurt.

So I kept my distance,
closer though you inched
in the growing days.
We wore a groove
in the ground as our tiny legs
made plans upon the looming hills.

But in my heart,
I knew we could never reach them…
and I know we never will.

I miss you,
the way the Porcupine misses the Pine Cone.
I’d carry you with me if I could.
But being born of barbs and bristles,
it’s hard to shoulder anyone’s baggage but my own.

Soon you’ll be taking roots
and kissing thistles to the wind.
So you take the high road,
and I’ll take the one less traveled,
and we’ll see if it makes any difference
where we come out at the end.

Bump it with:

Robert Frosting all over the top of this cupcake.

The Postman finds his Way

She’s the kind of girl who’s seen the world, without letting the world see her.  Quiet and reserved, with a battery of walls and conditions, few travelers have ever traversed.  The best of her is nestled in the center, Where only one before me has entered, and that’s a woman worth getting down on one knee.  Though we’ have barely scratched the surface, with each step inward I discover how she could be perfect’ and worth this moment and every one to follow.  So we’ll take it slow.  Careful not to step into the pitfalls of where I’ve stumbled before.  As we sit on the playground talking about the ways our parents have aged.  I’m delving into her history to see who she’ll be when the days grow long ahead of me.  Because I already know she’s worth this moment, and every one to follow.  

You see, I’ve been writing you letters.  I’ve been through trials and tribulations to deliver them.  And with my ink-stained palms I take your hands.  And we are free.  

Bump it with: