To Know Her, Is To Love Her

the color of her pudgy nose
when it’s cold outside
and she’s in her happy place
called Late Autumn

sides to her sassy mouth
often chewed upon
when she attempts
to slide away, giggling 

deep dimples
worth searching for
after finding two, living
beside her shy smile

corners to two hazel eyes
who’ve witnessed pain,
but questioned perfection
with sparkled contentment 

toes, each foot
she often wished were
painted in a rainbow of
your favorite colors

freckles lay, forever
atop a ring finger
she often wonders
is worthy of adornment

calming breaths needed
on a quiet, dark night
when dreams
come to soothe her

miles from town
she’s driven, even walked
in order to feel
closer to simple 

her favorite number
and the many opportunities
it’ll take to convince her,
an introverted extrovert 

fingers, yes, predictable
but that’s what she adores
craves, the honesty
trust and unity provide


37 thoughts on “To Know Her, Is To Love Her

  1. I wanted to comment on each and every numbered verse… but I’ll just say this…
    Most perfectly titled… and I hope that one day… you will wander very deeply into verse 33…


    • I will find every poem
      Every story you have written
      If only time would stand still

      (you don’t have to write 33 verses… you already have ten and you can skip over 11 through 32 and just jump completely into 33 with all your inspiration)
      …and I hope your night is most beautiful as well…


  2. The truth of yourself revealed in the simplicity of a child’s counting rhyme. You are not simple at all, but a wondrously complex and deeply feeling person, walking back from a difficult brink. But – you are walking back, and I’m glad for you.

    And I have to say it – love your shoes!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Yes, Ma’am, tis correct. You bring me to tears. Thank you for lifting me up. I appreciate the time you take to read and understand me. We’re similar artistic souls, which is why you read so easily with your heart. Been a tough few years, but oh how I want to run! Thank you…

      My shoes are more popular than I. Giggle. You need a matching pair.


  3. This is so good ma’am and yet it leaves me so torn. I want to go through it many times more but jealousy might prevent it and prevent it for the oddest reason. Me be country kid you see. Country kid of the east. Me see thick, rich dark soil at your feet and then look out at our fine red clay and sigh….. To read again is to see the bounty of your words, at your feet and under them.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I’m pleased you like this, C. Thank you for finding my poem and for reading it with an interest most poets crave. When one is heard, then one can exhale. Has everything to do with a soul finding peace. I want you to go through this poem again and again. Nail it to your heart. It stirred something inside your soul. And that, Sir, is everything. My feet may look well suited for the soil beneath them, but it’s the cold & damp ground upon my fair skinned fingertips that makes me feel alive. I appreciate you stopping by. May your week find you well rested.


    • Hate to correct you on your page but you tyed “cold & damp” above. Methinks you meant “cold, damp and fertile”.

      Yeah, I’ve read it a half dozen times.


  4. Marvelous self-reflection, Audrey! At first, I wondered if you weren’t describing a girl-child (yours or another’s), but numbers four and six resonate better with an adult. Someone who’s felt the sting of pain but is on the mend with hopes and dreams yet to be realized!

    Liked by 1 person

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