Monday, December 10, 2018

Poem for her 716

Dear Readers,

Cabin trips

The weather was warm and the snow slushy
The sky was clear birds in the air
We wanted to get out but stayed in
There on the table a pattern cut
Polka dots and lace, a smile on your face
The happy spring air the blooms up
There was a duck in our pond
Over by the garden bed the yellow deep
Flowers of the spring
White ones up under the hazelnuts
The roses just budding out
The cabin in high movement
Tea on the stove and cups ready
The sewing machine too
We did a slow dance around the room
I tried to get you to glance my way
Click went the camera
Another scrapbook pose
There was mint and rose in the air


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Sunday, December 09, 2018

Poem for her 715

Dear Readers,


Polka dots

The fabric said
I told her cool
She picked up the bolt
I kissed her fingers
Whispered something
She giggled
The bolt was bought
Yes the whole thing
We bought a few other things
The day was cold
The night warm
The tea hot
The fire blazed
The kisses long
Slow
The polka dot danced
A waltz
Slow songs
Night long
Kisses lots

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.


Saturday, December 08, 2018

Poem for her 714

Dear Readers,


Pillow poem

There long ago was a poem
That sat in a box
Written on paper
Not told to anyone
Though thought out
Spelled in the lace of dreams
There in the box
The mail was sat on top of
The letters were in red and pink
Blue and black and even purple
The paper yellow and lined
They called it legal in size
The lines were blue and spaced
The words about pillows
The hint of something romantic
There in the prose verse by verse
The thoughts held fast
Pillow talk sure fire at the time
There is some more there in the box
One on a napkin
Soft felt like held sweet
Like that sigh of your lips
When I first kissed you that day
When I met pillow
And we talked
Poem verses in a box

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Friday, December 07, 2018

Poem for her 713

Dear Readers,



Slow winter breeze


The days are slow when the snows fall
The sleep in days
The oh we don't have to go
The slow snow falls close in
The porches cool but dry
The wood stocked high and dry
Cold out but warm in
The kitchen smells of wood smoke
The pine in the boughs
The candles scent nutmeg
The baking done yesterday
Or was it last weekend
The days so slow
The winter chilled
The furs up under your chin
The days slow
New jobs in town the books read
There on the hearth a soft glow
The days slow and winter still
Kiss your fingers and ask for a dance

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Monday, December 03, 2018

Poem for her 712

Dear Readers,


43 mins and 43 seconds

North Latitude gets us where?
No clue says the map
Then the birds walk onto the porch
The swing giggles
The birds chirp
The wind blows
The phone is quiet
The day is still
Sunshine smiles at me
I smile back
Then take her hand
Move to the beat of the drums
The ones the stereo plays
If it were turned on
The sky is full of clouds
There is the clock on the wall
No ticking it makes
Though the hands move
Just no whirring sounds or click ticks
There isn't even a light on it
Just the knowledge
Time moves
The Phone call lasted
43 mins and 43 seconds that day
When she and I were apart by miles
Miles of smiles when the touch of hands
Makes the time away end
The days flow to light dark cycles
Not a time keeping minutes
There the birds nibble seeds
The swing laughs seeing us dance
The fire sparkles in the dusk
The fire between us heats the rooms
Sunshine on my shoulder as she sleeps
The dusk dark the sky lite with stars
Nothing like being fed by her being
Food thought of as meals
Yet hungry only for her rays of sunshine
Need the calories to run need you babe more
Slides my lips to finger tips
Belly button is drifting close
Slowly the day extends the night breezes
Slide over here your breath so slow

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Sunday, December 02, 2018

Poem for her 711

Dear Readers,


The special number


This block number has several layers
It was the number on my Van's license
It was a brand name store
It is the number of this poem
It is the name of a song I have
Yet to write
The saying goes like this
When you hear a tune
The subject of which is
Something that you see
You see the tune in a light
Not heard of in the song's words
Meanings bend in the breeze
The light turns a corner
Prism slipping rays
The Rainbow appears and I say
Hi rainbow
Then Sunshine is near at hand
She stands there phone in hand
Or the pastry brush cookie dough
Or the Warm mug
Filled full of tea or java or
Just the soup we made last night
There her being feeds me full
When she isn't there nothing fills me
Food has no taste
Just a placement holder for her smile

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Monday, November 26, 2018

Poem for her 710

Dear Readers,


Feathers

Flowers from hedge full of bees
Last warm nectar bare
The bees made love to them
In and out the pink 5 petaled ones
The hedge from asian plat Plane
Flat spin the man said
Spin the plate on the sticks
Then juggle the pie crust
Summer spins round again
The juice of one red fruit
Spinner bottle filled with fun
May I have this dance
Me and you curled in cat bed
Mewing the feather touch
Slipping the tongue down your back
Nibble the shoulder
Slow slow slow soft
You heard the rest on the vine
Fine brandy to taste
Crackers full tiny tastes
Picnic basket full
Off the record but heard
Hear the sighs

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.