Blog Archives

In the Dark We Know

At times, at night,
Oft after midnight,
My mind won’t let loose the words,
For fear lest I might let fly,
Spiced brocaded prose one cannot call back—
All those burning bridges
Built to serve and to smolder.
What must you think of me?
We’re all getting quite older.
Truths unsaid,
Curses not cast,
Happily ever after—
Will this wrinkled love ever last?
Give you space,
I take the time,
Lost in the meaning
Inside this sorry rhyme.
I desire to once occupy your keen eye
While I hide behind a sordid old lie.
Turning 50,
Turning 60,
70 and 80 come now too soon—
Can we teenagers ever see past the besotting Moon?

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Tu Et Moi

Hey! What’s cooking?
Girl, put on some pants!
I’m so so grateful
How you make can out of my can’ts.
Making birthday plans—
Who’s going out of town?
Can you tell me what’s coming up
Or how we’ll never live it down?
Tu et moi:
We still work this well-traveled path.
La dee dah—
Do you really want to do the math?
A glass or two
Usually really does the trick,
But you’re not that way
And I think I’m not that thick.
Wherever we’re going,
It’s the best being it’s homemade!
Let’s meet on the avenue;
We’ll try to find some shade.
Tu et moi:
We still walk this old graveled road.
La dee dah—
I could be your poeter a la mode.
Chocolateness coconut
Or a lemony doberge:
Sweet enough for everyone—
No taste ever to disparage.
Amused you’re a Muse?
There’s more on the way.
Let’s work this connection,
Girl, whattayasay?
Tu et moi:
With sunshine or a little rain
Thank you for answering—
It’s lovely to hear you again.
Ladeedah!

The Together and The Love

Love and Sex and chocolate coconut ice cream cakes,
But, sweet little momma, that’s not at all what it takes
To keep me intrigued and glued next to you,
And I bet you haven’t got the slightest clue—
Hand in hand you silently listen to my silly wannabe poems:
The warm attention matters much more than a hand that roams;
And the walks thru our neighborhood, pensive and royal
While sharing the road with bushy-tailed tree rats keeps me loyal
To the witty little brown-tressed smartly aging hippy goddess,
Though I must confess I adore how you majestify that skirted dress.
Back home we Cajun, cavort, zydeco, and swing, then waltz—
Sharing a trite wine we talk talk talk as the ringing laughter never halts.
We go together to Yorkshire and the playoffs and follow the Doctor.
Remember study hall with that mirthless lazy upperclassman proctor?
You showed me how to find the stupid area under the curve,
As I developed an image to kiss you, but never had the nerve.
Now we laugh at our grays and ponder richly the latest wrinkle,
[But you could spare me those raised eyebrows when I try to go tinkle.]
The sun approaches the far horizon and together we’ll learn
How the endtimes will play out for the likes of we old lovers in turn.
Thank you for the Together, the Love, and the Let’s See What Tomorrow Brings;
Can’t wait for our next day and the hundred million little pay attention things.
Hey, let’s go write our names on the beach,
Just don’t ever be too far out of reach,
Loving you is all it ever takes—
Yes, I did say chocolate coconut ice cream cakes!