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Poems about Creativity: twinkle in the eye

Brian Bard

twinkle in the eye

They call you a twinkle in the eye,

a dream so pie-high-in-the-sky

your faint glint might be

just a silver lining

or a stray satellite making its rotation

or falling debris

I can’t help but call a star

or some alien phenomenon

I think myself

this immense iris

of earthbound browns and greens and blues,

fancy my horizons so far and clear

that nothing could elude

my four corners,

my projection-lines and boxes,

yet so easily you do


I think myself

so intrepid a pupil,

fancy I study the secret presences,

vainly scanning sky for yours,

with nothing but fragile instruments

down in my pinprick aperture,

a shallow-deep hollow

in which little light stays


There you are already somehow,

beneath, a tender treasure,

a bun in the blood-warm oven –

more host than I –

waiting, moving tectonically in

this earthen ovary, close,

and even afar, not needing to scan

in return, having found me already


I seek with midnighted lens,

but you see by lunar glisten,

shadow-friendly shimmer,

content to kiss my surface tension

and bend in my whirling gravity,

to leave heat where

I so easily lose your shine

as I turn ever on


On the few cloudless nights I chance

a passing gaze up to mama moon,

foolishly beseeching her goddess-glory,

for you, and you, amused,

shine back from yet another cupid crater there –

one heavenly body to another –

aiming your beam to gleam

upon my dim-windowed soul

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