Kiss The Morning Into Being

Kiss the Morning

 

I think I will have it as my epithet.   It means a word or phrase that describes an attribute of characteristic quality.   I like it.  Kiss the Morning Into Being For It Has Long Won The Battle Over Night.  My need to know what I needed to know was my long night.  It has been a journey of a lifetime but I would not take a million or billion dollars for it and I would not give a nickel to repeat it.  Now that the pearl of great price has been bestowed,  I breathe easy.  I did not know when I could not refrain from what I was doing that it was something I had to pursue until I found what was lost.  It has not been easy but the moments of joy were indisputably brilliant.  Can one live a normal life and still pursue the pearl of great price?  One can.  It will be an uncommon life to be sure.

Only trusted loves know all sides of us.  To some of my readers the serious side is evident.  There was a time at midlife,  in my fifties where some of you are, when I shopped with an idea of who I was in mind.  I came across this poem while looking at previous work and thought, I will post this.  Your mother will identify with this poem or your grandmother.  Times were different.  It brought back the time with a smile.  The wall quilt is one of my favorites.  I love the young woman’s strut.  I hope you enjoy the post.

Perspective

I am an average American woman;
five feet five inches with
solid poundage to fit a size 12;
with white hair framing
a midlife face that has loved,
laughed and cried a lot.
But alive still.

I’ve searched the mark down racks
for you to see me in
Calvin Klein jackets,
Evan Picone and real leather suits
that rustle when I walk,
all shrouded in a mist
of Bill Blass.

Did you know I see me
with ruffles at my collar,
rose buds on flannel nightgowns,
after a dusting
of Johnson’s Baby Powder?
Drinking from a cup patterned
with violets and being sophisticated
when soaping with

Yardley’s English Lavender?

2 Responses to Kiss The Morning Into Being

  1. Lois August 27, 2015 at 2:35 pm #

    This made me smile. My sister and I gave fancy tea parties in nursing homes so that the residents could once again drink out of
    flowered china cups, off pretty vintage table cloths and have tea out of lovely pots. It was rewarding helping the residents experience a piece of years gone by with the new friends they have made in the present.

  2. Veronica Hallissey August 27, 2015 at 5:47 pm #

    email from Jane M. . . .All of these references I relate to…I was privileged as a young woman, my mother indulging me in Evan Picone…and I had a beautiful robe with rosebuds on it…..and I love bath oils that came in bubble capsules…I am so grateful for those days, before I had to learn to do with lesser quality clothes, and no longer a size 12…and skin that is too easily offended with lovely scents!….and I love your comment that you wouldn’t trade your life for millions but wouldn’t give a nickel to repeat it…Well said!!…the rewards were sweet, but the lessons weren’t so easy!!

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