Puddle

My Husband writes poetry and started to post it, but could never get round to posting his new stuff, so I’ve been sticking it on my blog instead.

This latest one has caused much debate/conversation/argument, as generally  I disagree. That’s the joy of poetry, different people read different things into it – even if you agree on the meaning you don’t always agree that the message is correct. Anyway, have a read and see what you think.

Puddle                            

A puddle of love is better than a lake,
For though it will dry out beneath the sun,
A splash of rain will rapidly remake
Any bit of love that’s come undone.

And so our love repeats itself for free,
Reset the way it was when we first met,
Enjoying life that’s lived light-headedly,
Where silliness defeats our intellect.

And that’s the fun of love, summed up in one:
It’s stupid and we know, but can’t escape…
Much better to relive how it begun
Than wait until it’s battered out of shape.

So don’t pour love into a stagnant lake.
To keep it fresh, a puddle you must make.

                                                                           Jon Mountfort

Now, Jon thinks that refreshing love and keeping that initial buzz is what keeps it fresh, but I think there is a lot to be said for the lake. He says it is stagnant, I say it is constant. It may not be fresh and exciting, but it is big and unchanging and more ‘solid’, if you can describe water that way. It also supports new life better, if you know what I mean.

It doesn’t matter, I love him my way and he loves me his. As long as he loves me, I say.

Advertisement