Poem for her 8
Dear Readers,
Whoa is it morning already? Late afternoon you say? Evening? Oh! You haven't a clue either. I got you. My habit has been to, sleep when I get sleepy or stay up till I can't stay up any longer and Crash for 12 minutes and do it all over again. But that habit has limitations, especially when you aren't alone anymore (Thank You Father in Heaven (and everywhere else he is also) for the gift of "The Girl" aka Little Miss Daisy aka ............(for readers to see, God already knew her name before I met her) Thank You Father for the gift of togetherness!).
So Not being alone anymore, I sleep when she sleeps, or if she is away for any reason I might sleep part of the time she sleeps or as I can, or as I want too, depending. Last night I had things to do on a game I play, I am a leader of people so have duties, but as those duties were arriving at an already odd hour, and I was wanting to sleep a bit while she slept too, My morning is still getting up a bit.
Hope you all have been enjoying my increased volume of postings. They will continue.
Now without further ado.
Roses are Read
Roses are read, the line went in an early poem sent her way.
Violets are many colors, this wasn't it's second line but wait
There is more, and more and then over there the door moved.
Hello babe, glad you could walk in and tell me about the drawing.
Glad you had that hand drawn on the piece of paper you sent.
Happy that the drawn lips were the ones you saw in the Mirror.
Movement of time, ticking of clocks, and sticking to stretches.
That we are influencing each other as we go forward.
Roses are read, and blew, and of almost any Hue.
But you like Daisy and colors too, Fall of the Autumn year tide.
Held close to your ear, my lips tell you things that only you hear.
Poems sweet and long, verses of song, drifts of wind through hair.
You my dear, are all my thoughts, even if you are not near.
Always here, Always inside the spot you filled, Always here.
Always inside the spot you filled, Always here.
Happy Birthday Lovely face in the Mirror.
Charles.
Whoa is it morning already? Late afternoon you say? Evening? Oh! You haven't a clue either. I got you. My habit has been to, sleep when I get sleepy or stay up till I can't stay up any longer and Crash for 12 minutes and do it all over again. But that habit has limitations, especially when you aren't alone anymore (Thank You Father in Heaven (and everywhere else he is also) for the gift of "The Girl" aka Little Miss Daisy aka ............(for readers to see, God already knew her name before I met her) Thank You Father for the gift of togetherness!).
So Not being alone anymore, I sleep when she sleeps, or if she is away for any reason I might sleep part of the time she sleeps or as I can, or as I want too, depending. Last night I had things to do on a game I play, I am a leader of people so have duties, but as those duties were arriving at an already odd hour, and I was wanting to sleep a bit while she slept too, My morning is still getting up a bit.
Hope you all have been enjoying my increased volume of postings. They will continue.
Now without further ado.
Roses are Read
Roses are read, the line went in an early poem sent her way.
Violets are many colors, this wasn't it's second line but wait
There is more, and more and then over there the door moved.
Hello babe, glad you could walk in and tell me about the drawing.
Glad you had that hand drawn on the piece of paper you sent.
Happy that the drawn lips were the ones you saw in the Mirror.
Movement of time, ticking of clocks, and sticking to stretches.
That we are influencing each other as we go forward.
Roses are read, and blew, and of almost any Hue.
But you like Daisy and colors too, Fall of the Autumn year tide.
Held close to your ear, my lips tell you things that only you hear.
Poems sweet and long, verses of song, drifts of wind through hair.
You my dear, are all my thoughts, even if you are not near.
Always here, Always inside the spot you filled, Always here.
Always inside the spot you filled, Always here.
Happy Birthday Lovely face in the Mirror.
Charles.
posted by Charles Edward Owens Jr. at 10:27 AM
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