Poem for her 212

Dear Readers,



The red line and Blue patch


The lines that slide themselves
Slowly along your day
And lay softly
On the pillow like a flower

The patch of clothe
Blue and navy and of a soft hue
That fills the flowers petals
With scent of wonderment

The touch of the towel as soft
And white and bright
Color spray
All over drawn slow

The hand that paints
The skin with sheet of paper neat
Serves the stem
To flower and repeats


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.