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My Marianna
My Marianna
My Marianna
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My Marianna

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This is the perfect book for all the hopelessly romantic lovers who want to immortalize the person they adore. It consists of a generous helping of poems and love notes to inspire the reader.
LanguageEnglish
Release dateOct 17, 2013
ISBN9781490716589
My Marianna
Author

Abne M. Eisenberg

Professor Eisenberg was born in New York City. He is retired and now lives in Belleair Bluffs, Florida. He served in the U.S. Marine Corps in WW II. His career consisted of teaching various aspects of interpersonal communication at four major universities and has authored 20 books on the subject. If asked what one word best describes his life, it would be creativity. If asked what is the most valuable thing he knows, it would be that everything is a matter of definition.

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    Book preview

    My Marianna - Abne M. Eisenberg

    IN LOVE WITH A LEGEND

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    As the sun traverses the heavens

    and the moon mimics its course,

    My love for Madam does it likewise

    with an equal and compelling force.

    As time echoes her incomparable voice

    and angels sing along,

    Deities applaud in majestic accord

    her ecclesiastic choice of song.

    In audience I sit, and silently pray

    that her essence will long endure,

    That her love for me will always remain

    pristine and virtually pure.

    If my dream prevails and withstands the toil,

    my love for Marianna will never recoil.

    While emeralds and diamonds emit a glow

    that enchants the human eye,

    My Marianna’s beauty negates their charm

    with a luminescence that does not lie.

    While poets struggle with a lover’s quest

    to capture that ephemeral zone,

    I have succeeded where they have failed

    to be my Marianna’s exclusive own.

    AN ENCHANTED NOW

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    When I was young, the sages warned

    that time would take its toll

    That I would learn to con template

    lost moments beyond control.

    My quest back then, was to memorize

    past instants so sublime.

    I quickly learned that tomorrows are

    but chimerical illusions divine.

    A host of fools from whom I sought

    sound council and advice

    Insisted that my destiny

    was cast in the rolling dice.

    I knew down deep, I my heart of hearts,

    that the future never can

    Compare with what I had come to know

    about a lass named Mary Ann

    For all intents and purposes

    I transcended formal

    And by doing made a loving pact

    With a woman I now call mine.

    Yesterday, for us, has little meaning

    except in terms of a vow

    That whatever happens between day and night

    will be treated as an eternal NOW.

    That mysterious hiatus we glibly call life

    an ephemeral blink of an eye

    Must humbly be treasured without question

    until the day we die.

    My Mary Ann has taught me the secret

    of how to embellish the giving

    Of how to maximize that delirious joy

    the NOW we deserve to be living.

    Each kiss, each hug, each fond embrace

    we share as never before.

    Amnesia prevails and we cannot recall

    the one we claim to adore.

    In consequence, our fate is clear

    experience has little choice

    Except to nurture the NOW we know

    by heeding that inner voice.

    These words I write are for Mary Ann

    the keeper of my soul

    My trusting wife, whom I dearly love

    Who keeps my spirit whole.

    Again I say, with firm resolve,

    that WHEN is a four letter word—

    A term that lovers should seek to avoid

    by letting the NOW be heard.

    I end this poem with the thoughts I share

    with Mary Ann alone

    Designed to imprison that mystical stuff

    from which our love was honed.

    MY PANACEA

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    No matter day or night, rain or shine

    my Marianna is there for me

    Her soothing words and smiles do heal

    my every petty plea

    Caring, compassion, and a welcome kiss

    make up her lingua franca.

    These are the traits I can readily take

    to deposit in my neighborhood banca.

    I have never known in my entire life

    the joys she generously bestows

    Upon my tumultuous life each day

    that assuage my fears and woes.

    I openly declare to the world-at-large

    without a moment’s hesitation

    I love Marianna in a million ways

    stripped bare of any reservation

    Each day I’m met with her open arms

    and a hug I voraciously devour

    For the rest of my life she will remain

    an exotic and beautiful flower

    WATCHING YOU

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    It all began twenty-five years ago

    when you came through the door

    In search of doctor that would heal your bones

    so they would hurt no more.

    The watching began in Treatment Room Four

    where you stood in bra and slip

    Awaiting the care that would make you well

    by mending that ailing hip.

    Lie face-down, I said in a gentle voice

    and, in a trusting way

    You assumed the prone position

    and before me you did lay.

    My eyes consumed your image

    my hands engaged your spine

    And in the moments that followed

    I entered a dream divine.

    In time, the watching found its way

    to places far and wide—

    My glances meeting each changing scene

    your essence by my side.

    Not realizing that the years ahead

    would multiple so well

    I steadily watched you day and night

    luxuriating in your spell.

    My watching soon took a sudden turn

    when cinnamon and cantaloupe were wed

    In the Lantern where we had coffee

    and hysterical tears were shed.

    The circus in Switzerland infected

    your laughter with even more sting

    Observing locals dangle from a rope

    missing horses in a ring.

    At coaching sessions with Doris Jung

    you struggled to perfect your voice

    So you might perform the arias

    causing opera fans to rejoice.

    I watched you die on the big stage

    as Salome and Lady Macbeth

    I grieved along with audiences

    At your dramaturgical death.

    My interest in watching Marianna

    gas accelerated with the passing of time

    Because of her skills and talents

    I cherish her, continually, as mine.

    Some call what I do voyeuristic

    others may deem it extreme

    But I say to my many fine critics

    I am dreaming my favorite dream.

    I’ve watched my beloved while sleeping

    making great corn pudding and pies

    I’ve watched her plant dozens of tulip bulbs

    Or peel onions with tears in her eyes.

    In short, I confess my obsession

    with the wife I truly adore

    I’ll watch her forever from wherever I am

    and faithfully do so forevermore.

    AN IRIDESCENT WIFE

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    No combination of colors can ever describe

    the imprint my wife exudes

    Or the way her prismatic presence refines

    an essence the God’s can’t delude.

    Wherever she goes strangers often detect

    an aura of classical design

    A persona that challenges the cleverest mind

    to interpret or dare to confine.

    At every turn of a most exciting life

    She conquers trial after trial

    In an effortless fashion, she breaks each code

    with no evidence of guilt or guile.

    No matter where or when I sneak a peek

    of this treasure by day or night

    My Marianna has often quite seriously maintained

    that we’ve met in a previous life.

    That we’ve shared and lived

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