http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber
[Update, August 15th 2020]: Readers often ask me why I revise poems. Well, reading them after a period of years, during which I have (hopefully) become a better poet, often demands I make changes. Feedback suggests that some readers prefer the original, so... decide for yourselves; the first version of The Borrowers here is one I revised only today, 15 years later, and the second is the original.
I was in love with a close friend for a long time. He is gay, but has never felt the same way. Even so, he has always loved me as a friend and I’ve had to be (more than) content with that.
In time, I learned how to let passion go and settled down to enjoy a platonic love we lend and borrow by way of supporting each other all the time.
Better a life with love in it than without...yeah?
THE BORROWERS or LOVE, A MIND OF ITS OWN
You lay your head on
my shoulder, its presence there
stirring such feelings in me
I thought, long gone, no part of me again,
but I was wrong;
my heart bursts into song, if sadly
for such love cannot be
as I would wish but must settle
for - what, exactly?
Not less or (ever) second best,
but first among equals
where friends touch base with Plato,
no need for words
You are a treasure my heart
will prize above all else, be glad
for each time I see your eyes
smiling into mine or tears even for waves
of hurt rising like a flood
in you while I can but do my best
with mere words to aid,
inspire, reassure, lend a shoulder
to trust, an arm to lean upon,
embrace you as friend to friend,
longing to hold and kiss you,
yet unwilling to risk more (far, far more)
than I could bear to lose
True, your love comes not
as I would dearly have it, yet no less
truly beautiful for that,
nor let it ever be still, this passion in me,
but forever grow,
lending you to me and me to you
in ways this body dare not
even hope to know ...
where wishful thinking asks questions
of history’s blurring sight
for watching antics of a heart
deserving more than its slow-fast beatings
here, on my shoulder
Copyright R. N. Taber 2005, 2013; rev. 2020
[Note: An earlier version of this poem (see below) appears in A Feeling for the Quickness of Time by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2005.]
THE BORROWERS
You lay your head on my shoulder,
a fragrance in the hair
stirring feelings in me I thought
long gone, never to be
a part of me again. I was wrong.
This heart bursts into song,
yet sadly. for such love cannot be
as I would wish but must
settle for … what? Not less
or (ever)second best,
for you are a treasure in my heart
above all else, to prize,
be glad for each time I see a light
in your eyes smiling
into mine or tears even for waves
of hurt rising like a flood
in you while I can but do my best
with mere words to aid,
inspire, reassure, lend a shoulder
to trust, an arm to lean upon,
embrace you as friend to friend,
longing to hold and kiss you,
yet unwilling to risk more (far more)
than I could bear to lose,
for though your love comes not
as I would dearly have it,
it is (in so many ways) as beautiful
for that. Let it be never still,
this passion in me, but forever grow,
lending you to me and me
to you in ways this body dare not
even hope to know ...
and memory daub question marks
on history’s blurring sight
No love dearer than watching antics
of a heart deserving, oh, so much more
than resting here, on my shoulder
Copyright R. N. Taber 2005; 2013
[Note: This second version of the poem was the genesis for the first and appears in A Feeling for the Quickness of Time by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2005.]
[Update, August 15th 2020]: Readers often ask me why I revise poems. Well, reading them after a period of years, during which I have (hopefully) become a better poet, often demands I make changes. Feedback suggests that some readers prefer the original, so... decide for yourselves; the first version of The Borrowers here is one I revised only today, 15 years later, and the second is the original.
I was in love with a close friend for a long time. He is gay, but has never felt the same way. Even so, he has always loved me as a friend and I’ve had to be (more than) content with that.
In time, I learned how to let passion go and settled down to enjoy a platonic love we lend and borrow by way of supporting each other all the time.
Better a life with love in it than without...yeah?
THE BORROWERS or LOVE, A MIND OF ITS OWN
You lay your head on
my shoulder, its presence there
stirring such feelings in me
I thought, long gone, no part of me again,
but I was wrong;
my heart bursts into song, if sadly
for such love cannot be
as I would wish but must settle
for - what, exactly?
Not less or (ever) second best,
but first among equals
where friends touch base with Plato,
no need for words
You are a treasure my heart
will prize above all else, be glad
for each time I see your eyes
smiling into mine or tears even for waves
of hurt rising like a flood
in you while I can but do my best
with mere words to aid,
inspire, reassure, lend a shoulder
to trust, an arm to lean upon,
embrace you as friend to friend,
longing to hold and kiss you,
yet unwilling to risk more (far, far more)
than I could bear to lose
True, your love comes not
as I would dearly have it, yet no less
truly beautiful for that,
nor let it ever be still, this passion in me,
but forever grow,
lending you to me and me to you
in ways this body dare not
even hope to know ...
where wishful thinking asks questions
of history’s blurring sight
for watching antics of a heart
deserving more than its slow-fast beatings
here, on my shoulder
Copyright R. N. Taber 2005, 2013; rev. 2020
[Note: An earlier version of this poem (see below) appears in A Feeling for the Quickness of Time by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2005.]
THE BORROWERS
You lay your head on my shoulder,
a fragrance in the hair
stirring feelings in me I thought
long gone, never to be
a part of me again. I was wrong.
This heart bursts into song,
yet sadly. for such love cannot be
as I would wish but must
settle for … what? Not less
or (ever)second best,
for you are a treasure in my heart
above all else, to prize,
be glad for each time I see a light
in your eyes smiling
into mine or tears even for waves
of hurt rising like a flood
in you while I can but do my best
with mere words to aid,
inspire, reassure, lend a shoulder
to trust, an arm to lean upon,
embrace you as friend to friend,
longing to hold and kiss you,
yet unwilling to risk more (far more)
than I could bear to lose,
for though your love comes not
as I would dearly have it,
it is (in so many ways) as beautiful
for that. Let it be never still,
this passion in me, but forever grow,
lending you to me and me
to you in ways this body dare not
even hope to know ...
and memory daub question marks
on history’s blurring sight
No love dearer than watching antics
of a heart deserving, oh, so much more
than resting here, on my shoulder
Copyright R. N. Taber 2005; 2013
[Note: This second version of the poem was the genesis for the first and appears in A Feeling for the Quickness of Time by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2005.]
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