Progression

Now she’s gone
And it’s just me left here.
No, I don’t really think
I’d like another beer.
It’s a progression
In the park where
We used to walk over,
Is now all covered up
In a new spray of clover.
It’s a progression
And memories of us
Are now hard to hold onto;
The doctor says perhaps four months
Then I’ll be gone too.
It’s a progression
All the happy turns sad
About the time of sunset.
You wouldn’t like it here;
That I had agreed now I regret.
It’s a progression
Our kids are good;
I think we did pretty well;
Now nurses and lawyers—
All grown up from Farmer in the Dell.
It’s a progression
Yes, it’s time to rest
And for you to go.
I love you for coming,
I just wanted you to know.
It’s a progression

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Just Stand Still

Been chasing, chasing, for so damn long
Just stand still
Lemme catcha breath
Wait wait
It’s not too late
I can be the one
I can do right
Always over the hill
Always out of sight
Just stand still
Songs are sung
Bells are all rung
Flood my mind
Stop a bit
Why so unkind
Just stand still
Over the hills
Across the sea
What must I do
Why can’t it be me
Just stand still

Friday The 13th Acadien

He ain’t user friendly
He prefers bottom shelf
You’ll never see it coming
He won’t much mind, himself
“Baby’s toys gracing the floor”
She asks if there’s gonna be another stanza—
“Baby breathless, asking for more”
He gets the glasses down from the credenza
He don’t care who won the game
He hates to mow the lawn
He’d like to return to Barcelona
But, well, he’s slightly overdrawn
“So, what are we up now, love?”
His muse has some quite juicy lines—
“Don’t worry, baby, we have the time.”
She has the all of everything for which he pines.
He writes the stuff after dark
He likes his second glass
The neighbors seem to cringe:
Pity, he really hasn’t much class
Remember, deeply, the seventies
When Zeppelin was all the rage?
(This rhymester’s saddest secret:
Why wasn’t he born Jimmy Page?)
He steals words from his muse:
“Carefully caressing every soft contour”
Anticipation sweet, removing those fancy shoes:
“Even her red toes, that he does adore”
He thinks he can dance
He’s torn it up with the best.
But here comes Friday the 13th
He won’t much mind this test.

–thanks for writing assist by June O!

Some Time Out Of Town

Would you like a drink?
Could you hold my hand?
Love for ever more?
No sweets, nothing quite so grand.
Let’s just find the dawn
And split up the day.
Should love bother to show
We’ll allow it to take its sway.
Don’t want no skinny love.
Don’t want no promises for the wind.
Just some time in your company;
Just share the space with someone kind.
Would you care to dance?
Mind the rutted grass and all—
The dust is enough to kill.
Can you feel the accordion’s call?
Back to the room:
After you, of course.
Let’s go find somewhere to eat,
I’m hungry like that horse.
Patates acadien, gumbo eleve
A chardonnay, esprit de coeurs
The feast casts a chance:
May I follow thru your door?

Smiles Deliver

Words often fail
Smiles deliver
A touch brushes by
We all shiver
Hoping against hope
The chord lingers
She turns to face
And traces with her fingers
Open your mind
Open your grasp
Close upon my heart
And feel me gasp
Before the bottle opens
And we tumble in the sand
I want to have earned you
Making you smile and safely grand
To dance beyond tomorrow
And chase horizons together
You had me at the pool game
So knock me over with your feather
Because you’re my firebird
Your flame burns so well
I’m not going anywhere
Can you tell?

Give The New Day

The sun was all comin’ out
The peach light had turned to gold
Another early heartbreak
Is how the old story is often told

The alarm rang and rang and rang
into the cooling empty room
she was pouring the cat his nibbles
another bride without her groom

left at an uptown flowered altar
her his friends left with their scant eyes
not a bit surprised was she
all those lies and lies and lies

her long-planned honeymoon
became another staycay
what if he dared to call
what possibly would she say

that sun now had found noon
the heat burned all the way down
she chanced to take a herself
to the store back in town

popping into Woolworth’s
she grazed the dollar record rack
heartbreak and hootenanny songs
were all that glanced back

hitting Baskin-Robbins
for a double scoop of rocky road
a tight napkin on her graham cracker cone
why hadn’t she seen he was just a toad

the sun found the far horizon
just like yesterday’s afternoon
the fat cat’s bowl refilled
the AM station changed its tune

the dishes found the rack
and she made as if ready for bed
nothing again on her tv set
she went back to Clavell instead

dreams came for our princess
as the fat cat curled up nearby
luckily for sister and me
Mom would give the new day another try

Interrogatory

Apparent suicide,
Military intelligence.
Will I be so well regarded
When I achieve some past tense?
Foster a puppy?
Get it together,
Hang on you guys
We’re in for some nasty weather.
Spin some ‘Stones,
Maybe Moonlight Mile?
She’s gone to the theatre—
Can I hang with you awhile?
Or Doobies ‘White Sun;’
Does that make me a racist?
We’re just swaying to the groove;
Please put your PC into cease and desist.
Teachers in tights,
Boots above the knee.
It’s not the clothes, moron.
It’s the quality of the preceptor, see?
The A/C is back on,
The kid’s at St. Ed’s;
All that folded laundry
And, lately, unmade beds.
Waiting for your call,
Ringer turned up high.
Jack the cat stretches
And turns over with a sigh.
The only interrogative:
So, how did it go?
If I only knew,
I would let you know.

Another Monday

Blossoming Southern belles—
Plastic as far as you can see.
Sooner or later the truth
Makes itself plain,
More or less eventually.

Travel over the old road,
Hope against hope for happiness new,
But find you’ve returned home
Spitting at the gods—
Chagrined through and through.

Gambling for a maybe,
Hopelessly hoping we young
At heart, we’re quite hopeful.
Why climb the campanile
Seeking a bell yet unrung?

Two storms amangling,
A third fluffs in the wings.
Furbabies tied to trees;
O soft fear strangles us all.
How Stupidity wretchedly stings!

Another Monday looms,
We will all try to do our best.
Be happy and healthy,
Be safe and remain free.
In the end we will all pass this Zen test.

A New Adventure (Same Old Story)

Chasing happily-ever-after
Miles and miles over the road;
Hoping the fair princess
Can discern in this hapless toad

Inside loom love and kindness
Along with old pain and mischance.
But to worry a bit of brie
Along with, just maybe, a dance,

Would be any true man’s dream.
So, a road trip in a new September
A start of something special—
Or an adventure to long remember?

Two empaths to closely encounter
And perhaps co-mix their life stories;
High hoisted on tenterhooks,
Dreaming of better glories.

So All Ye, All Ye, In Free! I’m going to fair Slidell.
Wish for me your best and let’s see what a fortnight can tell.

–“It’s still the same old story
A fight for love and glory
A case of do or die.
The world will always welcome lovers
As time goes by.”

Allons Aller

Seeing you are a Goddess
It’s not that hard to see
You’ll be breaking hearts
Eternally

Lovely in Yellow
Dazzling all who care to glance
Mongrels like me
Never get half a chance

Oh, but I can two-step
And Zydeco better’n most
Do you take your poached eggs
With or without whole wheat toast?

Allons aller a Lafayette
And cut up that old Girard lawn.
Chances linger gossamer,
And spit, they’re gone!

But I reach above my station;
I’ve learnt the pattern of the tiled floor;
But Life careens ahead
Leave behind Less, go for All the More