Mimi - Mona Poetry: Don’t Blow On My Dandelion Wine

©Don’t Blow On My Dandelion Wine

Mimi Wolske

All Rights Reserved

It was like the Titanic

only it was me sinking

in our enchanted garden of

earthly delights;

it was like cloud-piercing

trees standing as sentinels expressly

on the watch for all of

my dreams and desires being

gathered for one last ride

in the time capsule of love.

Time was the thief; it was

11:59.9999 when I

walked the tightrope of

a time in the past.

I awakened chilled like

my favorite bottle of

Clos d’Ambonnay;

oh, you could have drunk me

low and high, night and day—

but for the magician in you

who became invisible like stars

twinkling in a mid-day sky,

who left that twinkle in my eye—

left me naked, exposed, vulnerable...

with knee-shaking bravery and defiance.

When I wasn’t boxing shadows

created from your misunderstandings,

I was smiling a vocabulary of love

for a man with no light-cast silhouette.

This feels like cloud-piercing

trees standing as sentinels expressly

on the watch for all of

my dreams and desires being

gathered for one last ride

in the time capsule of love and

there’s a mystical alchemy

of tears and rain

becoming my dandelion wine.