wanderingsoul
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Registered: 07-2003
Location: Wandering
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Memories of Mark
Mark didn't write many poems. He was a jock. "Jocks don't write poems." But there was more to him than that. He did read poetry. His favorite poem was one by Robert Frost called Nothing Gold Can Stay. He always said it reminded him of me. So many poems remind me of him, I couldn't possibly choose one. Much of my poetry has him in it in some way.
But these are the poems he wrote. Wrote every one to me. Said I was contagious. They all have meaning to me as he wrote each one of them during our relatively short "relationship."
The first one he wrote, You Are, he wrote after a rather raging bout of insecurity on my part. It was his way of reminding me what I meant to him.
The second one he wrote, Tenuous Connection, was when he was having some of those same feelings.
The third one he wrote, As You Lay Sleeping, he wrote in response to my poem of the same name. *smiles* My insecurities tend to take hold of my head from time to time--he was pretty good at noticing when they needed to be reassured.
The fourth one he wrote, The Rest of Our Lives, was his proposal of marriage. Wrote it on a card that he had me read in front of half a town's worth of a mixture of thrilled, shocked and horrified relatives.
The last one he wrote, These Rings, was what he said in our wedding ceremony. He surprised me completely. I didn't expect words--I had none prepared myself. *laughs* And I am supposed to be the poet. To me, these are the most beautiful words he ever spoke. He didn't read them to me. He had them in his head and his heart.
Mark Allen Thomas March 19, 1978 - February 23, 2004
I love you Mark, and if you read this don't ****ing laugh at me you big dumb farmboy jock. I am NOT being a drama queen.
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And by and by my Soul returned to me, And answered "I Myself amd Heav'n and Hell"
Omar Khayyam
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3/10/2004, 4:12 am
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