There are two men
who’ve always proven able
to keep me on the same page as them
and even searching for the next...

I don’t believe they’d mind
about each other
as I’m confident they’re secure
in their own stature by now.

They act as my constants
each uplifting and unique.
One softsweeps me over to
his porch swings near the sea
New Bern, North Carolina
usually the backdrop,
for old-style romances,
textured with timeless traditions,
moral values, simplicity
and spirituality.
He’s a male uncanny in
his sensitivity, bringing
both men and women to tears
between the laughs, with story
not over-sentimental, or preachy
though one of his offerings
is about a preacher’s kid.

True to type, he rarely uses the kind
of language that requires censure,
as with precision he sparks
the moments we all go through
with the insight and empathy
of having been right there.

The other lures me
over arduous Rocky trails on sojourns
both physical and moral,
contrasting the landscape of metropoli
with Montana plains, mountains
the habitats and habits of wildlife,
in rapport with or at risk from man,
and the human tests of resilience
and loyalty. He weaves me along his smooth lines
that insinuate with the pure naturalness of
rivers and ranch lands he celebrates.
A steady seductive flow
leads me through all his loops,
my nerves on edge at peak points, and offers me
witness to the scenes and suspense of decisions,
eye to mind to heart and back.
My will quick to submerge, I experience
every dilemma he designs
along the path of the geography
of relationship, and the intercourse of fate.

Both of them bewitch but settle me down
soothing my own process on this planet
with their captures of human spirit
in the living and loving dance
of the destiny of character, plot and landscape.

A grey hiatal fog encompasses
the lulls between their latest
as I long for their fresh lore.

While one keeps me hanging on hold
a little longer than the other
for his next body of work,
I value the personal style and pacing
of each, to put out their latest.

During the inevitable droughts, I re-visit
the prize stacks I keep of theirs
upon my bedside bookshelf,
re-indulgence often casting fresh light
due to my own growth since the last times.
Sometimes I haunt their websites,
or better still, the bookstores,
for fear of missing out
and even the clerks confess
they’re hooked and anxious too.
I can't be too possessive about these guys,
since I know
I’ve never been in this alone.
They aren't mine exclusively
I share them with fans across the globe.
For while there are two of these men
keeping me on their pages, there are
many more like me on theirs- to be specific,
those pages from my two Nicholases -
their surnames
Sparks, and Evans.

You may already like to think of them
as yours too, and may have even noticed one
tossing a note-stocked bottle out to sea,
near North Carolina, or heard
the other whispering masterfully
to a horse on a Montana outback.

Even having learned
some backstories on this pair -
(one about my age, the other on the younger side,
one British, one American),
who’ve navigated their own roads of tragedy,
ecstasy and struggle,
I’m forever stunned by the empathy
their literature reveals.

With the public their status seems
undeniable and enduring,
as are the characters and tales,
enticing me, while they unfold
by the tenderest of touches,
the mystery of living in love
with life, and investigation of its borders,
an appeal that reaches to the core
of all of us, wherever.

08/18/2006

Author's Note: Draft. It would be amazing if these authors would come to Ottawa, Canada, to give a reading!!

Posted on 08/18/2006
Copyright © 2025 Maureen Glaude