Outer space was meant to bethe moon and planets, galaxies.
In an embrace with stars above,
forget the science; let's make love.
(c) Ellen Gillette, 2014
A little explanation: last night I attended the writers' group that meets at Inner Truth Project in Port St. Lucie. I met these lovely folks the month before, and returned for a mini-workshop led by guest host Gene Hull. He gave some writing prompts and nuts-and-bolts instruction on patterns and rhythm which we found almost as delightful as Gene himself. He provided the first line to the poem posted, and had us come up with the next three lines in an AABB rhyme scheme (the first two lines rhyme; the third and fourth lines rhyme). When I shared mine, the group leader, Wendy Dwyer, said I should post it as my day's poem today. It's a holiday, so I gave myself permission as well. Veterans Day deserves something more, and it will come, but not today.
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