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Early Morning Weekends
June 30, 2018
You were the most beautiful thing,
Like orange juice on a Sunday morning.
But it’s painful to say that I was all alone.
A tornado ready to blow.
I still remember the first time we met,
Our glances like mirrors: quick and shy.
Before you, I was a bottle of sweet honey.
I now come in waves of broken sea glass.
It’s not new for me to think of you.
As if you were a book, with our story
Where the boy gets the girl.
And today I can’t reminisce the times
Your feet danced across my heart.
Because I was naive.
And you were the sun.
Come back to that day.
And laugh for me like before.
© Jovee B., Dededo, Guam
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I wrote this poem awhile back when I attended a three-week summer program at Walnut Hill School. In one of the classes, the assignment was to blindly pick out of a bag certain words which we would then need to include in the poem. This is what came about! I really enjoyed writing this poem, as it was both challenging and rewarding to have to come up with an idea surrounding words that you would think wouldn't go together that well. To me, this poem has a light and airy quality to it but explores the deep emotions of heartbreak, the confusion that can arise when in love, and reminiscing about the past.