A Northshore Christmas 2020

So thinking of a present for Christmas,
Maybe a lil something in rhyme,
But not sure it’s right,
That this might not be the time.
But the good is worth remembering
And the great was sweet given by your leave.
So, here’s a little something,
But in magic you still must believe.

Puppydog had come before the rains
A sweet bit of plain good heaven
A-jumping and a-tusslin’ all day
From dawn’s seven until dark’s seven.
One day Puppydog was gone!
The door had somehow been left open!
Crushed, she looked all over and all under
But P’dog was gone, tweren’t no reason for hopin’.
The days sore passed one over the other
But there’s your 2020, don’t you know?
Hearts curl upon themselves these days;
For the happy, sometimes there’s nowhere to go.

So, a cold blustery empty kind of a day
Brought the Northshore Christmas Eve—

Trying to nap in the bunk beds,
She thought she’d heard some skritchin’?
She lumbered to her dead-tired feet
To open the door off the fine kitchen—

Puppydog! Yelping warm holiday greetings!
Oh, such reunited hearts awash in love’s tears.
So, I wish you a very Merry Christmas
And a bundle of the happiest of New Years!

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Meet Me Once Again

Always wisht for a ‘grand affaire’
A love that rattled and shattered and grew
But only stolen glories and dried up hopes
And always the remains: ‘oh, how I’ll remember you’

Now guilty grey outcount the callow brown
And real age looms large in my mind
And alone with my picante Bordeaux
A joke portion remains of grace that one can find

Without pretense or malice aforethought
I plead you risk a newer pain
Join my foolish tilt at aged windmills
Meet me once more again

A riverbank, a hilltop, or bar
Your house, my house, running train
Restaurant, cemetery, or banquette
Meet me once more again

No promise of happily ever after
Just attentive present conversation
A chance to explore old embers
Or bury a youth’s spent intercession

A promise of ‘la grand affaire’
A love that filled and shattered and grew
Meet me once more again
Are all daisies really better when blue?

Morninglory

So, well…yes
I suppose, I must confess
That I’m just a single simpleton
Never a race I have entered have I won
Not even a single one
Not one
But, once upon a time:
I shall venture with this little rhyme
(Or, maybe a true life’s story)
Of a friend aurora’d in golden glory—
Shall we call her Morninglory
OK then, M’glory
Twas in the frozen North,
Anchoring away such and so forth,
I chanced to follow a fellow swabbie into a shop
Where hot hip transfers are pressed onto one’s top
And oh, my heart did stop—
Full stop
Alas, of course, such a joy couldn’t last
As it happens: the many-many years have passed:
Morninglory had her own full Life’s path to travel,
As I sailed after green seas and trod flat rutted gravel,
Witnessing some dreams coarsely unravel,
Bang, the gavel
Now, upon these here internets
Where youngish oldies can place new bets,
Allowed I was to restart with a believed spent story
And became friends again with my Morninglory—
Never again to be sorry,
Never sorry
So, a Winter wish to all readers of this raggedy rhyme, and so-so story,
That your wishes come true and you again find your own Morninglory

Avec Toi

I miss walking Paris
I miss Washington DC
I really miss those nice things
You used to think about me
I really like my neighbor
Even if I don’t know her name
Such things can’t be helped
There’s no one left to blame
The cat wants to meow outside
He doesn’t care much for Amelie
He just likes chasing whatever
Presents far away from me
I loved a Nordic goddess
I danced at her only wedding
We reconnected somehow on Facebook
Now I must vacuum, Jack keeps on shedding
I have seen true beauty
And felt arid with bottomless pain
I cannot understand the darkness
Kathy sees in Ashland’s daily grain train
I want to return to New Orleans
And lure the regard of a new pretty head
But I just write small lines in Austin
Watching Amelie avec a glass of Fonseca instead