Poem for her 150

Dear Readers,



Floods in the Area


The streets ran with water and the Bikes
Just couldn't get enough of those puddles
But on and on The Girl and The Boy rode
It was going to be a wet day
Might as well make it a fun and wet day
Further and further into the rain they rode
The road was wet and the rain kept coming down
Their parents told them not to go far
What did their parents know about far
They rode a Long far way down the roads
They did come to this place they knew about
Near where they would some times roast marshmallows
It is a covered rock over hang on the side
Of a creek bank up under the weeping willows
The radio did a blaring stint and The Boy Listened
Floods in the Area was the theme of the day
So they got out their lunch boxes and
Ate lunch out of the rain
You will see them again on wide adventures
Just you watch these pages


Happy Birthday Babe,


Charles.

Poem for her 149

Dear Readers,


Sneezes


Three or four is just about right
It is those days when more happen
That is when the spring or fall rains
...make your days a bit winded
They never come when you want them to
Do people want to sneeze?
But it was a Spring day when her sneezes started
I sneeze almost all year long
Cooking does it to me
Gardening does it too
Though for some people the sun shine makes them sneeze
All in all anything that tickles the nose
Will make us Sneeze
So while I get out my feathers
And tickle the Nose
Three or four sneezes Just about right


Happy Birthday Babe,


Charles.

Poem for her 148

Dear Readers,



Her Face


She looks at me sitting across from her
My hands on her hands
We haven't really moved to play the card game
But have been staring at each other for a while
Her face is something that I could
...Look at for hours
...Hold for hours
...Kiss for hours
She looks at me while I do the Eggs for breakfast
Asking with her eyes If she can help
I smile and say
No
I look at her and see the face that
...sleeps near me
...cuddles on the couch watching the fire
...smiles at me first on a spring day
Means a lot to me as I look at a photo I have
...She doesn't like the photo
...But I find it so much more
...Than anything I could hope to have
...That I couldn't have gotten her heart so
...Close in those eyes, if I have tried
Is something I can't take my eyes off of
...When we shop
...When we walk a pathway together
...When we just pause in our dancing
...When she sings
Her face is Glory shared with me


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 147

Dear Readers,



Those kinda Days


Those days when you can't sleep
Though she does
Those days when she can't sleep
And you do
When the Phones that you use have dead batteries
When you go to turn on the lights and nothing happens
When the rains get so bad the yard is a swamp
When you just want to crawl back in bed
...But can't cause you have to do something
Those days when you give her a back rub and
...Then find out you all ran out of tea till a store run
Those kinds of days when you want to
...just go back to sleep and, Oh yeah already typed that line


Those kinda days when you sleep all day long
Have all that you need and then some
When everything is prefect and you love the rain
...Cause that means the job has been called off
Those kinda days when the eggs just are prefect
Those kinda days when the fireplace really warms you
...and you get to enjoy it all week long
Those kinda days when you know that first kiss

Will last a whole week long

Those kinda days when her touch sends you to sleep
...As you both cuddle the day away

Those Kinda days when May is just so near


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 146

Dear Readers,




Green Glasses



The Girl with green glasses sat on her porch
Wondering where he was
He sat in his room trying to get the package open
The Girl was wondering what his reaction would be
When he got the package open
He was totally shocked
That evening
The stars were as bright as they could be
The Glade was dry and flat
Though in a short amount of time the dew would arrive
The pair of them were singing
But the song you'd not know
They had made it themselves
Their song
The brand new telescope
Made everything they looked at
Wonderfully new again


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles,

Poem for her 145

Dear Readers,



April Showers


Standing under the rain outside
Standing in the doorway as the rain falls
Standing in the shower in the cabin
Standing there together while pausing on a path
...As the storm drops the leaves near by but
...We don't have an umbrella so get soaked
Standing with huge towels trying to dry off
...before we wade into the house with dripping clothes
Standing at the counter thinking of what we want to buy
...More towels, or just a nicer Umbrella
Standing as we watch the rain fall outside
...Wishing we'd just go and dance in it
Standing in the rain of the April shower
...Then dancing to our own private music
Standing there any month of the year watching rain
Standing there paused between dances in May


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 144

Dear Readers,



Sleeping


The weekend away as one of us is ill
When we have things to do, but don't do them
When we take a nap but one of us wakes the other
The week away as it is full of rainy days
The night through but waking early and drinking hot tea
And going back to sleeping after the star show
Is a mild event that happens but for the waking bits
In each other's arms and being aware that we are
Is what I am wanting to do right now, but goes to
..grab her and get to her to be with me
Is the event of the day when we are finally tired
..and need to be doing it, even if part of us
..say that we could be doing something else
Is fun if you aren't ill or achy it's better while well
Together is how we like to do it
Off to bed now to snooze a while


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 143

Dear Readers,



Holding Her


Close in a slow dance over the floor
Close when we do the dishes together
Close when she has a headache and I sooth her
Close to me as I write her a love song
Close to me as she sings me our song
Close as she does a chore, every chore we share
Close as I rub her in a long massage
Close in a slow walk down the lanes of time
Close all our years going forward
I will always be holding her close


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 142

Dear Readers,



Bacon


Fried crisp and eaten like bacon
Or on a sandwich of Tomato and Lettuce
Fried soft barely cooked just done enough
But sliced into bite sized bits
Savored for the fat and the taste
Bacon sliced and not cooked by frying
Dunked into boil watery broth simmered long
Pots of things added and the bacon a flavor
So soft after cooking that it melts in your mouth
Not much chewing required smoothly bacon
There are various kinds of bacon
With several that are name brands that just are
Then there is the saved Bacon greases but only some
Only the best flavored Bacon have grease saved
From fried Crisp to still almost raw they are
Enjoyed by us, and then there are other
Pork fat Bacon like products that might make it
Like Lardo which is just a seasoned cured Bacon Fat
High in Fat low in meat that is just hard to get
So in all this you would wonder why it is in this space
It is because I am a Chef and I like it, but that
She and I grew up loving BLT's And I still make them
For her and for me and I love her and we've been talking
About food and bacon today already and here goes Her


Happy Birthday Babe,


Charles.

Poem for her 141

Dear Readers,



Orange Creme


The bucket of oranges sat there wondering
Which ones of them would be added to
The mixer and Whipping Cream
The mixer was wondering what the recipe was
The Chef was wondering what the recipe was
The Girl was wondering what it was all going to be
The mixture was done and the glasses filled
Then the Orange Creme Slushie was served
This new recipe might or might have had
Alcohol in it, or other things not listed
As the Recipe isn't one I have made
The thought of it is that I am eating
Something with the Orange Creme flavor
And I want to make it for her
And I want to have something Cold
And creamy and Orange like
And I am thinking of creating things with her
And I have bought more gear for the Picnic basket
And I am just a creative person
And I love her fully
And she is AWESOME


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles

Poem for her 140

Dear Readers,




The Dance floor


It looks like a big barn
Then it looks like a small cabin
Then it looks like a living room
It was once just a Hotel room
Though the smallest was the Elevator
Then one day they were seen
Dancing in the park

Over and over and over again
Some place that has them there
They are on the Dance Floor


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles

Poem for her 139

Dear Readers,


The Vacationing


We went on a vacation
We never came back
We met and never parted
We are not just a couple
We are a thing called HOME
We don't do things because
WE do things because
We can and we want too
But at times we have to
Do things that are there
Not on the vacation lists
but we have fun doing it
Even if someone else might not
Or See that something as a bother.
If we are Together in doing it
Then there is no bother doing it
Even if the doing of whatever is hard

We are on vacation forever
We are retired even if we do things
We are on vacation and having fun
We are retired and always active
We are never bored and never going places
Or we are always going places but
Never moving
We are something very special
Something that we were not
Before we met each other
And became
Together at HOME


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles

Poem for her 138

Dear Readers,



Places, Spaces, Faces, Cases.


Places where she is are the Only places I want to be.
Spaces of time where I can not see her in the flesh
...Are never ending bits of waiting and wanting
...But they get resolved and we go on and on
Faces of the millions of people we have seen in our
...lives are filling our memories and dreams
...But her face is filled with longing and needing
...and a full on Love for me that has a habit
...Tuning out the other faces I might have seen.
Cases of scrapbook binders stored in a Chest
...Of paper that fits in the other notebooks
...things that come in small dozen or gross
...or reams of paper, so a case of the paper
Places Where she is are the only places I want to be,
...But some days I can only see the spaces in my text
...or see the distance on a map and know the time
...It'd take her to get back home and where she'll be
...When the places of facing her face is the only
...Case I want to be


Happy Birthday Babe


Charles.

Poem for her 137

Dear Readers,



Hunger and Cravings


The eggs were still fresh and so was the coconut Oil
The bread was lightly toasted and the Last evening
Toast was still being sipped at in the big mugs
She was happy and sad and glad that the last
Little bit of Cream would be used to make the
Morning's breakfast, but that the last of the
Cookie Cream was still held in reserve for later
She watched as his hands moved about the kitchen
With a practiced ease of someone that knew
How she liked to see the cooking going
Dirty and then fix and then clean and then
Dirty again and then sweeping off the Table was
A bit surprised to realize that this was
That green table clothe of that shared composed
Boat ride extended story trip of the last
Twenty-four hours was still going to be
The next course of the first call of the day.


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 136

Dear Readers,



Home is where the Cards are


Cedar chest on wall shelf under a red silk scarf
Or at least that is where they were the last time we played
With the zippy poofy cards in the game of
Oddities and recipes and treasure hunting porch sitting

Yes just so you know that is the officially agreed upon
Game title, because that was my duty to provide the titles
Of three games, for future creation, due to losing
War in March this past month or so.

There have been lots of card games played in our
Years of being together, or is it a bit less than a
Year, we we still wondering on that topic
Together being in the same splaces

Well I should have already been to bed but had to
Finish making that item in the kitchen which
Was part of the change in direction in the first line's
Where to go to find the Girl gets to fix the next game.


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 135

Dear Readers,




Holding on to it.



There is this puzzle me and her are working on
The pieces are vast and arrayed in a method of
Ones and threes and trees and woods and porches
And cats and rafts of pyre logs that have to be
Lit in a fashion and then there is the unlimited
Things like two thousand seven hundred fifteen
and the other slices of pies and the pizza and
the trip to disney world themes in the Shark week
And the other things that just puzzle the people out
And then there is the US that isn't going this way
Down that back raw row, while I am in the right lane
And looking over at her and smiling a sweet nothing
To her in the left lane and knowing that no one
Knows she is there and I am there too, but if they
See her and she gets into a conversation all is good
as They only see me as a face they do not know
if they will see me at all as I go darkness into the
Sahdes of the typo there that is for the real not a type
Oh My God is that thing really your's the girl said
and the Boy said for sure it is as they took the next bike
Out of the wrappers only to have the book hand the girl the
hand dealing bar and say,, hey there Please to make
This bike yours as I like my old bike that you gave me
Last night in the shark suit and the Jaws thoughts
Sighs there is this thought puzzle that started this poem
And it is thusly explained by holding on to it
You have to hold on to it. but if you hold on
How long will you hold on till someone says let go?
heh, is the answer I would ask. What do you know?
They might give something or other but the point is
They could get it reading my blog
May the Peace of Christ be yours one and all
I hold on to it, that it being Christ's hand
His ever giving hand, it is a hard hing to walk
Alone in the world, waiting for the other hand of
Christ to get held on to, he is there and you know it
But his other hand is and you can see the empty
Hand of Christ there and you know what goes in it
But you have to wait and you do, but the wait can be
Long and it can be easy , but my wait was not easy
And not a short one either, 52 years of waiting
Then one day there is a flash of light and I
Wake up and there is a hand in his, but I can not
See a face on the image, I know it is there
But when I ask him he looks fondly at me and
The peace of his look holds me fast and I walk on
Getting a bit of a bigger stride out of the walking
though I am not growing taller or any other size
I am just getting the point of my walking hand
In hand with Christ, it is not as easy as these
words might imply but you all dear readers have
been sharing my walking for a while now
This is a short story only 11 years long on here
But the shortness of the Forever Slice of time is
So long that no one but no one knows how
Love can give forever and never run out of Love
And no one know that forever is first only
One little word long, only one little word " Hi "
So she is reading this and those out there that
Want to know what she looks like,,Ask God
I have her hand in mine and well there is a lot more
So for now that slices of the now and the
Holding on to it thought thread will be locked into
a half twist and a flip open and over an out
And to say it like I mean it
See you on the flip side


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles

Poem for her 134

Dear Readers,




Fan Base.


Fans are things that people have always used,
To breeze the way from Hot to not

Fans are things that people have used,
To let others know that they think,
Highly of them enough to be
Fanning the flames of one set of
Desires for another that still burn hot

Fans are things that put to uses not
and not and not can make knots untie
and united at the same time too

Fans are things that aren't explainable by
the simple terms of this word stream
But can be explained in simple terms
to be the best that has ever been
Again and Again

Ditto and Dot got a game of cards together
One night that lasted for a nightfall
full of flaming fans and fanning flames
That set the landscape on fire so that
In the morning only EDEN was left in the
Chaos that was there before

A slice of Heaven in every breath
We take on the Trip from here to there
So that things unseen can be made known
to the sleepers awaking in the dawn
hand in hand still

Slides of puzzles played and talked about
Sleep she said and I did
In her breath of heaven
Spoken in my ear as she sang to me
Saying I want you to come home soon.

Home is where I am going and staying
for a Ten spot and a brunch of things
That only seem unknown but we have lists
Made up and adding more to the trips

So that things in the dreams slide into
the Fan Base and then the spring of another
year slides into the spring of the waterfall
and the pond and the gentle rise and fall
Of the love between us on the skin tones.


Happy Birthday Babe

Charles.

Poem for her 133

Dear Readers,



See Liner Motes At space weather dot com today circa now.ne



The note read in the book she opened up.
She had been cashing in these coupons
For decades, sent to her in the places that coupons arrive from
But ever that odd one out of a batch of cookies
Just one missing cup in a set
Things would stir and stir and clank and bird chirp
tick Tock She'd see the typo and want to fix it
But a hand would stay her movement and then be gone
The crowds dis trubed her, they were just too
Out of round, lights flashing to bright things
The mental images of things and then the sounds
Awake again, odd sleep patterns sighs
What was a mother to due, dew , do, ditto, and dashed line
She flowed out of the room when the
Sound was just right of lr Infared cycle 3
See him on the flip side of the single
spinning flipping coin
Prawns they used a lot of Prawns that pair
They would oull the crackers out of the box and
Things would sing and flow and then
Oh yeah that line were where what you see is done then


Happy Birthday Babe

Charles

circa 11/89 the art work's birth signage date read

.......................... she whom is the above named knows the liner
notes and is one bill fold and filled with joy box away
from 10 days,, in T minus 700 hours give or take james band bomd banging pots


For Kevin Pride............If that name means something to you, direct him to this post and he will know how to get in touch with me,,,,unless he is offically offline....smiles,, doubt that, but he is just of an age he does not have to much time for the online world...............

Poem for her 132

Dear Readers,


When


When she was born there might have been
Just as there was with me
Snow when we were born
Different Places and times and years
But When
We was born they called out the snow

When she was sliding her hands into mine
I was there and also
In the dream of hers she had had over again
And again into long dark dreaming nights
And also sitting across from her most
Recently just a few thought beats ago

When she was last thought about was
Always just the last thought second ago
By God always, just like He thinks of All of us
But also of by me in my last thought second
Ago as I sent her a voice mail as she is
Not here in our house right this minute

When she reads these lines I do not know
As she is not here here, but is also
Always here, though this second and for a
Slice of time that has no length
I can confirm to you, she is off
Visiting her family of sliced Time not of my DNA

When I Say not of my DNA I am mostly true but
It is always true I am always human like her
So we two share DNA with all you dear readers too
But her slices of DNA also would be called
Family slices of DNA true to her genetic
Chemical traces and the smells of fresh baked goods

When she opens the boxes of their smells
And the folks in the room smell the goodness
Of the items she makes for them
And the smile of the Box in her last
Voicemail I have to listen too, I have
In green and red that says Filled with Joy

When she then reads these words I am
In a coded sing song voice saying and reading
And 77 to her about, I hope she sees the other
Favor of the color and the need to know
Can she once more open the box of the
Insect and leave the imprint once again to me

When she is only 8 and riding her bike to the
Lake and the telescope and the Boy in blue glasses
To late sees the glassy mud puddle and over his
Handle bars goes into the Pond that later
Is their first home's back yard Bar B Que
Pit where they Roast a bird clock into ashes

When it's not exactly the way it could happen
But when in the rattle background you hear
The dump trucks up and at them and the
Day is beginning She'll be in resuming
A job hunt again I'll just pause and say
Executive Section A Tarry you are, have been mine

When I opened a story line last night after
You and I parted the slice of timeline
And you were mentioning the thoughts of the day
And you thought you had fished to the high
You are as my CEO is you is also
The executive sect Deck of cards over there

Can you see When I say that you have worked
Long hours for long years and you don't
Have to have had a hunk of paper issued
To say you have walking up and down flights
Been an EX O SECT. That is a Chef within
The offices of The Boss, aka Someone that

Gets the things done, but is almost as
The boss when the boss is not done and left the
Golf course of other place of gone-ness
You hold the Keys to my heart and Clan
You is me and I am always forever
Sliding me everything into your sheet of paper


Happy Birthday Babe

Charles

Poem for her 131

Dear Readers,



Flirting Together


English class is hard for me
I can barely link thought to the letters on the board
I can't say the word for the thing I am sitting on
They finally convince me it is not
Share
But it was share
I share all my all with her
We flirt
All the time
We share all the time
Her is me in slightly puzzled fashion
Turn half twist
Rotate
Lock
Click
Safe Safe is the most climatic story I wrote
Sex is all over it
But forever and always
It is
Safer to
Share together
to
get
her
was how they taught me the big word up top


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 130

Dear Readers,



130 poems going on more but we have reached another milestone marker I have been with a Lady, Called Babe in these posts, Her of the titles for a while now, looks over at her there on the couch That I designed and she sits on and likes a lot, and wonders and ponders, and um, well I can't rightly tell you how long she and I have been together because we don't know ourselves. Though I could tell you a fair guess and if you are a reader of this Blog or have gone though it's pages with a fine toothed comb, or know me personally, or Her Personally you'd be able to gander a when and what not..Knot...Not.. so um a while now. It isn't the point to tell you How long she and I have been a thing, an Item, Girl and Boy, smiles. But the Milestone is I started this series of Poem for her.... back in Jan this Year on the 6th. It is the 14th 2 months off the V day poem of that date where I say it isn't a V day poem to her in the Poem for her of the day. This is Poem for her 130 in about 98 days of timeline. Lots of poems get sent to her, These thought pieces have layers you all dear readers can't see, because they are pulled out of the Creative Juices God Gave me to use for this purpose. She can see them because the layers are woven into the Universe her and I call HOME.


HOME

Her Universe is large it has many people in it
My Universe is Large it has many people in it
Both of our universes were not connected in the general sense
Other than the vast fact that all the Multi- Verses
Are all connected, the 7 Billion plus Universes
Are all connected, they are called humans on earth now.
But she and I met once and then the Universes of apart
Are Homed in on each other and tied forever and always together
Our Universe we call HOME
Wherever we are it is home, we have been and will be many places
Christ's Peace to you all, He has given Her and I peace
Though the walk through earthly life called now
Is long and etched with many pathways and days
She is always and forever with me
I am always and forever with her
Girl with green glasses and Boy with blue glasses
Doing things in a current timeline and in the she and I world
Home is where the three bears were and then the story goes
Home is where the things could be a city house and a cabin
Home is Her in my hands holding her long into the next day
Home babe soon in your arms as soon as I hit publish.


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles

Poem for her 129

Dear Readers,



Flowers


Roses are there in the vase by the bed
Roses are petals in the tea cup
Roses are petals in the salad
Roses are pressed in pages and books

Irises are all over the back yard of the
City house
Cabin in the woods
Other people's yards
Places we seeded them
Irises are in vases in the kitchen

Never forgotten
Never forgotten
Never forgotten

Full of flowers flowing down hills
Full Leaf piles and sixty cameras clicking
Full of your scent in my hair
Full of the power of your thought

Never forgotten
Never forgotten
Never forgotten

Violets all over the place in the beds and
In your hair and on your shoulder
And in the salad we are going to eat
Kiwi too but slow and Mango too
Kiss your hand
Never Forgotten
Ever


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 128

Dear Readers,


Flat bread, wafer thin.


You'd just call them crackers
But they could be, or might not be
They are wafer thins in one district
And flat bread in another
Or Crackers in yet another
But we try a lot of them
With lots of things on them
In fairly honest measures
We try a lot of them daily
Picnics literally have been all about them
But them so have other meals too
Sitting on the park bench
Looking at photos of them in a pile
Ones we had tried and ones we hadn't
Never easy to try them all
Never going to run out of the choices
I like some we have made
While others bought seem good too
I had eaten them before I met Her
But it has turned to a whole new event
To watch Her face light up
When a new box is opened
And flavors start flowing
Soon we might actually run out of them
In another 200 years


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 127

Dear Readers,



Songs Sung


She sings to me at odd times
Not when I expect them in my voicemail
On my car radio just the tune
Her beside me the words outflow
Waking up to her singing there beside me
I come in from outside and then
Songs to me begin
Softly sung to the art project we are doing
Notes taken at the grocery store
In the car singing the music on the overhead
She likes to sing
Does it more and more
Waits to surprise me with the voice
Of tunes we both remember and
Ones I have never heard before
But want to hear more
Genres all over the spectrum of music
She'll put words to songs that have no words
She sings to me softly and my heart melts


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 126

Dear Readers,


Breakfast


She likes eggs
I like to cook eggs
I used the good omelette pan
I didn't make one of those though
I cooked an over easy egg
Put it on a toasted side of buttered english muffin
On top of that I put a slice of avocado
First time I ever did that
Was ages ago
Or just mere flashes of lightening ago
Some slice of time ago
Slice of avocado on egg on toast
She still likes it
She still thinks of it
From that first time
To today
Soon it will be
Breakfast time again
Wonder what new creation
I'll serve up to her
Besides a poem


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 125

Dear Readers,



Lazy afternoons


Porch swings with Us on them
Park benches with Us on them
Cuddling in soft places together
Talking about the news of the day unhurried
Playing cards or other games
Holding hands saying nothing much
Walking down the garden path at a plant show
Looking at books in a Library
Seeing the new art show, or the old one again
Watching the sun move through the trees
Talking about interests that we share
Talking about interests that we don't share but do share
Being together just hanging out with the scrapbook
Wondering what new thing to have for dinner but just thinking
Not going out to buy anything, just planning for later
Looking at each other with that deck of cards on the table
Not playing the cards, to interested in each other's hands
Longer afternoons as the days get longer
Longer still as the winter comes back
Why stop a good trend of longer
Lazy afternoons


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles

Poem for her 124

Dear Readers,



Girl with green glasses.


She sat there on her front porch
Looking at the books in the set

He'd just arrived and handed them to her
She was surprised he gave them to her

Her green glasses made everyone look odd
But she saw them as different shades

The boy would always be green like her
They liked the same books, proof in her hands

She wondered where he was just now
If she could ride her bike to his house

She'd see him again she was sure
He knew where she lived and had been there

Now to go read the books she had gotten
Such a nice story she'd have to tell Pillow.


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 123

Dear Readers,



Sunday Afternoon,


Actually started early in the morning
When he calmed her to sleep
Though she woke a time or two
He was there to sooth the aches
And off to sleep again she went
Then the morning breakfast
Then the getting the car filled
Then the drive, over noisy bumpy roads
Then the afternoon was there hanging in the rain
Sunday where was the Sun
Driving long hours counting off the mile markers
Telling each other stories of youth and drives
The trees on the roads on the way to
Where ever they were going this Sunday
Long trip lots of driving
Have an egg sandwich dear, some hot Tea
Long drives talking to each other near


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles

Poem for her 122

Dear Readers,



Saturday Afternoon


She sat there wondering what he was doing
He sat there wondering what she was doing
They were in different locations that day
He picked up the phone and then put it down
She picked up the phone and then put it down
He took a breath and then looked at the clock
She took a breath and then looked at the clock
How much longer would it be till the line would end
Wanting just to snuggle in close to each other
But one was off buying something they both wanted
But the line was long and the wait was too
Suddenly the door opened and he was there
She looked up and paused her dialing
Off to the couch they went to
Snuggle the Saturday Afternoon away



Happy Birthday Babe

Charles

Poem for her 121

Dear Readers,



The Cards


They sat there on the table
Her hands were above them
Elbows on the table
My hands were above them
Elbows on the table
Our hands were on each other's hands
The Cards though there, were untouched
They had been untouched for over an hour
We were just sitting there
Staring at each other
Talking about something or the other
The topic was ever changing
The hands always moving
But not touching anything but each other
The cards were not going to get touched
The two of us talking the night away
Together holding hands
All night long
Talking


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 120

Dear Readers,


Springtime


Porch swings and Her
Planting things in the garden together
Trying not to mow the grass
Telling her that, Yes she can mow soon
Spring flowers change to spring salads
Airing out the winter linens
Walks down to the lake, to do some fishing
Marshmallows on a bonfire out the side door
Last spring frost so the coats have to stay out
Cuddling by that last spring fire
Snuggling the nights and afternoons away
Sunning the paints to dry on art projects
Eggs sunny side up, then splatting over the toast
Yolk everywhere, as she smiles at the event
Springtime in her arms
Always fun


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 119

Dear Readers,



Holding Her Hand


As we walk down the lane of a path
As we stop to look at the moss on a tree limb
As we start back up the walk but stop
As we dance a bit in the path
Her singing a tune about something
We'd both thought about just then


As we walk in the store looking for fruit
Never far from each other
One hand in one hand close by
Just there in the store not far away
Only need 3 items today
Why wander far away from the other

Riding the elevator up to our floor
Sliding close to each other
Hand there in her hand wanting
Wanting
Wanting to Kiss her
Even though we aren't alone

Doing a lot of things
Holding her hand

Dancing the night away
Holding her hand

Sleeping the afternoon
Holding her hand

Always thinking of something to do
Holding her hand


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 118

Dear Readers,



Slightly Touching


Her hands on my hands
Her lips on my lips
Her hands to my skin
Her skin to my hands
Her fingers on me
My fingers on her

Breath of the night air
Sunshine on her hair
Cards on the table top

Our hands move together
Softly moving into each other
Dancing the night away
Kissing palms
Drawing in that first kiss
Of evening

Always
Forever
Slightly
Touching
Her


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 117

Dear Readers,



Suddenly


The world changes as your plans were to be one place
Then you were being carted off to the ER
Suddenly there is a call, not going to be home babe
Took a mild fall, they think it's blood clots
Off to stay where hugs are short and kisses brief
But glad to be home again too
She was there always singing to me in my ear
Telling me things she did when I wasn't there
Off in the beeping bright light places of hospital stays
Love her day and night as she holds me close
Off to doctor and place of chairs that never fit
Glad to be home near her again
Kisses and Hugs, Hugs and Kisses
Thanks for the singing to make my days whole
Waves to everyone else, Yeah this is me
Off to a cabin in the woods and porch swings.


Happy Birthday Babe

Charles.

Poem for her 116

Dear Readers,


Singing

She sings to me songs she and I like
She hums things that I don't know
She sings in the shower
Or sings on the phone call
Her list of groups she knows is longer than mine
She is better at singing than she admits
Her voice soothes me and lets me sleep
Her humming stirs the afternoon air and brightens
Our walks in the park
Or my naps in the late afternoon
I am glad she sings to me
Love your voice dear
Love your voice babe
Love your voice dancing in my head


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 115

Dear Readers,



Rainy days


Rainy days cuddled on the couch drinking hot tea
Rainy days snuggling in bed talking the afternoon away
Rainy days in the greenhouse potting plants
Rainy days not driving or going out in it

She doesn't like them much
She'd be cuddled close to me all day
She'd love the hot chicken soup we make
She'd look out at the rain with a sad frown
She looks at me, as I cheer her up on the rainy days

I'll tell her long stories about sun shiny places
Nothing wrong with rain, as long as we are inside
Thunder and Lightening is cool, better to enjoy it inside though
Kissing on our porch with the cool summer rain is also good
All in all, I'd rather share everything with Her


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 114

Dear Readers,



The Place

Two sheets of paper on a table,
Lots of words on one side of each,
But those sides face
The front side of one has the words,
And the back side of the other has the words,
So When seen as the Pair they look like One,
Top side blank, and bottom side blank,
All their insides Is that Place,
Where they live together
Not seen by most others.
They love each other with a passion
Not seen looking at them as One sheet of paper,
Remember To let it got to voicemail she just said,
Lets it go to voicemail,
That place inside the Sheets is where they
Have the most of themselves hidden, even if
That line is also a pun they both know you
See too,
But it is not all the puns and words that
Make them whom they are,
They are only one sheet of paper


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 113

Dear Readers,



Saturday


That day we do things that might not be possible any other.
We do the things we had always done and then some more.
On the calendar the date is one that people tend to joke with.
Neither she nor I like this day's joke filled slights.
But Saturday is always a great day, even when you have to drive.
Plays the car stereo Loud to help stay awake for the long trip.
Stops to rub backs, and shoulders, and legs and kiss.
Get something to keep the belly happy but light so not to nap.
Other Saturdays we'd just stay home and not go driving.
Sliding around puzzle pieces, or playing cards.
Cooking and gardening and singing in the shower.
There is always that other Art project to do.
Scrap book to add too, Song lyrics to work on.
Saturday is the day to do a lot of things.
But for us, we do this all the time as well.
Hugs and kisses all day long to a girl I know driving in a car.


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.