We woke early in the mornin'
I brought her coffee in bed.
We worked out then washed each other
I started writin' on the porch
or in front of the fireplace.
She climbed the stairs to her studio
to create her visions of beauty.
We had lunch. We lay down together.
We rose and worked at other things.
We took long walks in the woods.
We worked again on our visions.
We ate supper, talked, read books
sittin' across from each other
on the porch or in front of the fire.
We went to bed. We loved we dreamed.
In winter she dreamed of flowers,
plannin' refinement of the garden.
From late March into October
she spent hours diggin', applyin'
fifty-year-old Hereford manure
from around the barn and pens,
plantin', transplantin', and weedin'.
Year round I dreamed the same dream
That these days would never end
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (These Days by MacGregor Tagliaferro )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
Percy Bysshe Shelley
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
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