As Many Leanings as a Woman: A Poetic Love Story

By Patricia J. Dignan

As Many Leanings As A Woman

Dedication page

To my Daughter, Cassandra,

Daughter-in-law, Rosanna

And Granddaughter, Ava

May all of your leanings be
fulfilling and happy

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: May 14, 2008
• ISBN: 9781467868464

Patricia J. Dignan

Patricia J. Dignan is currently the Assistant Superintendent for Curriculum and Instruction in Milan, Michigan. Her career has spanned three decades and fifteen school systems. She has directed the Headstart program in two states, headed task forces on special education and gifted and talented programs, and has taught every level, from preschool to college. Certified in elementary, middle school, and high school teaching and administration, Dr. Dignan has a master''s degree in Effective Classroom Teaching and a doctorate in Administration and Supervision. She is currently completing her studies for a law degree.

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© 2008 Patricia J.Dignan. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 5/6/2008

ISBN: 978-1-4343-8305-1 (sc)

ISBN: 9781467868464 (e)

Printed in the United States of America

Bloomington, Indiana

To my Daughter, Cassandra,

Daughter-in-law, Rosanna

And Granddaughter, Ava

May all of your leanings be happy ones

A LOVE AFFAIR ISN’T ALWAYS AS FAIR AS IT SOUNDS

SOMETIMES FEELINGS GET MIXED IN

ROSES WIELD MORE THORNS

THAN PETALS

AND WHEN IT’S TIME

TO CUT THE STEM

SOMEHOW, THE SPECIAL SOMEONE NEVER BELIEVES

THAT HE WAS SPECIAL

HOW COULD I TELL HIM THAT LOVE HAS

AT LEAST

AS MANY LEANINGS AS A WOMAN?

How could I make him see that leaving him

Had nothing to do with him

It had something to do with me

Building a wall

around my soul

used to be meaningful

people had to try hard

to get close

they had to probe

plunge

peel the insides

i most wanted to keep to myself

mortar cementing my person-prison

was curtained fear

my heart’s windows were ventian blinds

no one dared to near

i held myself intact

not free

but reluctant

to peer past the wall

because so few had the courage

to bend back the bars

until you…

I’ve taken many matress trips

tempted then tasted many lips

but it’s not the same

i’ve heard many a passionate sigh

even made grown men cry

but it’s not the same

i’ve been around the horn and back

found many things others lack

but it’s not the same

i’ve said many a tearful farewell

courted heaven, was fearful of hell

but it’s not the same

then i met you and finally discovered

that i may have been liked but never lovered

and i’m glad it’s not the same

we used to laugh about poems

telling us of hills to climb

or oceans to cross

and now, of course, theres the within-reach moon

but they were only poems

padding the possiblilites

of what we could do

never too much

never too soon

but could mirror words immortalize

the peaks to which our love

has taken us?

somehow the words would still be words

maybe

if they were penned by men

made angels overnight.

but how many men fit that description?

certainly not you.

it’s just as well—wings tickle me.

I’m tired.

separated by a console

we travel together but stay apart.

i’m tired.

you held me in your arms so long ago

that i can have you only in miles