Poem for her 250

Dear Readers,



Bacon on the Plate


She said Oh my did I get that kind.
I just nodded and made it anyway
Bacon is bacon unless it is BACON
Her bacon is crisp and crunches
My bacon might be that way
But often is not
But bacon is edible in all its ways
In the baked bacon on bacon rolls
In the Shrimp wrapped in bacon
At the beach the bacon tastes
Just like the bacon in the cabin
Bacon and Lettuce and Tomato
Being the sandwich of choice
For both of us
I Like Her We like bacon
In a recent video we have
It shows my plate which still has
Most of my breakfast on it still
As I describe it the Last words are
Two slices of bacon
But why leave that food there on the plate
Because She feeds me more than just food
Sitting there talking to her, though I had food
She being there, looking at me
Talking to me
Feeds me more fulfilling than anything
Food often takes a second seat even Bacon
She is my fulfillment and my need

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 249

Dear Readers,




Mei Fun and Her,



The morning was bright the shades drawn
The Night before dances in the dark
The Day before the evening meal
Was on a trip to a friend's house
We stopped to get some Mei Fun
The night was long lots of chatting
The friend had already eaten
So we only ate a few bites
As we bought a bunch more than just for us
So the leftovers were in the fridge
The smiles of things oft done
The toast was just now popping up
The butter in her hand and on it went
The eggs go crack crack and the thought slow
The Girl in Glean Glasses smiles and giggles too
The Boy in blue glasses is not as fast
As he once was, this is though a long practice
The fire of the stove even and olive oil hot
Mei Fun stirred and on the toast going
The Girl smiles as she reads these lines
She has seen them oft time too and hugs my shoulder
The smells are many and the kitchen warm
The eggs in the skillet go and the thoughts soft
As they cook she kisses me and the time stops
The eggs cook on and the kiss goes and goes
And then the hands move and the eggs are done
Laid easy on top of the Mei Fun on Toast, Buttered
The fork is just one and the film of camera clicks
And the fork moves and heard there is
The sounds of love between the two as they
Feed each other and take the pictures of
Just the 700th breakfast together meal shared
From time long ago in that far away place
Where the Boy was heard to say

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 248

Dear Readers,



Feels like Rain


The drip of the drop of Honey
To the tip of the dropper
The fall was slow and fast
As I made it slide off the dropper tip
As its own single drop no string
It hit the skin of her belly
Slowly sinking into the valley
Of her belly button

Then we took several pictures of it there
We wanted different angles of it
We wanted it in several light intensities
We wanted to see them later and
Do art drawing and other things with
The image of it there in the valley
But we also wanted to have fun

There is this yearning for time
That feels like rain on the skin
Feels the tiny moisture on the hairs
The impression is that you are getting wet
It is raining on the skin tiny bitty drops
This need to experience the days long
Into the night the life is full and fuller
Still filled and as we grow older
Never a dull thought of nothing

Everything fresh as the Brand Spanking New day
That Honey drop as it slowly dries in the
Camera lights will find it's way
To Her tongue, via a long kiss
After I lick it off her belly Button
Not the thing a day would be limited too
We could have just washed it off with water
Or that spring rain dance outside
But I wanted to Lick her one more time
The taste of Honey golden on her skin
The feel of the valley and the feel
Of fresh art work handy for the next hours

When off to the thrift store we are going
Hunting for a thing we don't know what it is
As I type this line but we both know
That when we see it we will know
It is this thing that just so
Is the partner of the one we have
On the Green covered table in the Cabin
And then the next few days
Joy of more art work in the day
That feels like Rain


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 247

Dear Readers,



Navy today


Blue the hue the dew soaked feet
Stepped close to me and I touched
Her navy shirt and the belt loops
I pulled at and drew her in a dance
The day was fresh it is just past dawn
Her face is smiling a giggle there
Her face is almost always happy
When we are together
And if not I desire to pull it
Back into the happy thoughts
Calm and at peace and soft
Navy hue of things unsaid
Then the shopping later for things
Seeds for plantings,
Soils from the garden places
Sheets of paper for art work
Clothe strips for things
Worn out jeans for patch work
Then the thrift store for
Things for the dress up day
The making of our own stage play
A musical with our songs and
Our thoughts and our fun
Forever and Always

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 246

Dear Readers,



Long Nights Deep Sighs


The night was long the sighs deep
The pain in my legs was tingles of pressure
The Phone call made all the batteries
Fully charged
I was awake again and the idea of sleep
Far from me
Then came the text
There were a lot and it lasted and then some
The idea of sleep was far away
The conversation via text lasted a while
Long time almost 30 mins beyond the call
I was happy and sad and happy and it was night
The time I am normally awake more than not
But I had to sleep or rather lay down
Had to tire out again mentally too
Watched Political videos sure to do the trick
Finally the drifting off to the dozing
Up lights off things put away
Off to bed then to hope I can sleep
But no not that easy, am a wakeful person
I sleep rare hours, I do sleep but I am a lot awake too
Especially because I am not wary often
I can go and go and go and go but then I have to stop
To be in the Long night and just stop
I do get tired and I sleep, but she is like a
Big surge of hungry power just filling me with
The Deep Sighs of energy that at Times is like
Food, water and all the best things possible in one voice
In one push to be awake
But without her there I am slowly wearing down
And go to sleep, Need her voice to charge me up
Her hands on mine merge and the full depth of hands
Merge into one hand as I can feel hers feel mine
Telepathy is not fully aware but with our hands
And skin and there are days that Tuned in
We think the same thoughts while unable to see
The other's face depths so deep that we don't know
Where they really go, Layers of unfolding to
Vanish into the fine lines of the poems verses
She is A W E S O M E
And I would write more but it is an on going thing
You will see it on and on till always and forever


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 245

Dear Readers,



The time in the bottle bttle dude


Yes the line is miss slpelled
There was that day I had to tell her
Things but my thoughts were confused
Bt I was not ill
I was was just tired
And thin I thought not tirede just dyslexi
She'd start to worry but shouldn't
This is not about the dyslexia
Nor is it about the above miss typoes
Or the non spelled correctly's
But I am supposed to be laying down now
And I will be going back soon
BUt there iwsa a thougth in my head
I was laying there not asleep but not awake
I was wanting her there, but couldn't have
Her tere
There
or for that matter here
She was there
And I was am here
time in a bottle was on the page there
But had been sung to me
There in hte waking dream
I was on about the poem for her 245
BUt it was a pull down from a future
The poem for her 7,743 post
Then the math 365 into that
But that isn't how my poems work
They are sliced out of a huge
Spirit that gives me things to say
But at times my fingers can not keep up
With the speed at which my brain is
Supposed to fire but doesn't
So here I am streaming the thoughts
In a long poem for her that isn't all the
Same asthe other that I could have been writing
But I digress she is seeing what she knows
You dear readers have either read my blog
Or you have not
She has read it cover to cover in a whort
short time
spanned out
bck then when we first met
BUt has as yet said
oh my god girl you b and I b
and yada yada yada the lines
and the times
Are distant chimes
see first poem in the whole blog
way back in 2006 but it is from
way back when
then there is history for his story
His story
Our story
how obough how old is she?
Well this is the missive lines that you will see
It started as a Happy birthday stream of poems
to frame a section of time
about which her birthday is
buried into
But she is always
Brand Spanking New
every doorway she rolls the dice through
EVery thought she takes breath she exhales
every beat of the beat of the beat of the song
Thunder in the Rain
Kane Brown
Smiles at my babe
Smiles at my babe
Smiles at my babe
The future isonly known in the mind of God
Jesus said, Father you gave them to me before Creation
And some other words
and then there was all teh conversations allt he
days hence
and she is on the front porch right now
phone in hand and people walking by
and then she says to one
blah blah blah and blah
then giggles and
then sighs
and then laughs
and I have to
say


Happy Birthday Babe

Charles.

Poem for her 244

Dear Readers,



Breakfast


When she rolls over in bed and we kiss
When she cuts the egg on toast and
...feeds me the bite and asks
...Mei fun?

When she rolls over in bed and we kiss
When she says pancakes, how many does
...that stack make, and the waitress
...says up to 3 and she says 2

When she rolls over in bed and we kiss
And the coffee is hot still from the night
Before because of the new thermos
We got in that city we were just in

When she rolls over and we kiss
And we kiss and this is the long
Four line verse that just has
Us kissing for the long long time

When she and I dance in the dew
In our city house and plan the trip
To our cabin in the woods for another
Planning building day and the RV is ready

When she rolls over in bed and we kiss
And the bird songs out the Window
Of the RV remind us of Springs
Gone past of all the Breakfasts

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 243

Dear Readers,


Sanity checks and Aloha


Video was a long ago invention
That saved me just now from a fit
Of a sanity check
I was missing her being here
She is off with some duties this weekend
The cabin is a bit stark without her laugh
The house in the city is hot and no dew
The birds look about and tell me she is fine
But they miss her too
But tea time and sneezes and the
Red shirt and the yarn crosses
And the mental notes
And the dust motes singing
Somethings and Nothings kissing each other
As they pass in the hallways
The byways the places they slide
Flashing forward to and fro
That sing the verses of private song
The front porch call
The mall not known being there out front
The hey hello and the going back to
Chat with me in voice not spied
The video and the aloha she said
Which is not just one but both
Hi there and also Bye bye there
A Sorta Kinda
Waving to and fro
So I say it again with meaning

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles,

Poem for her 242

Dear Readers,


Just so you know

Nothing you say will be a worry
Everything you say will be a joy
So wish you could see the feelings
But know that I do as the words used
And the words not used that you thought
Are embedded in the thoughts you thought
Nothing you think is hidden in a way
As the Hand of Jesus holds that thought
For you and for me so that it can be
The thought of a dream seen later
The thought of a cotton wood seed
The thought of a scene seen while asking
Asking God what the words looked at
Seen and read and pondered on
Unpacked in that gift package of bright sunshine
The Red stripped Shirt covered in a Cloak
The sound of voices in the hallways
The writings in the Scrapbook Blue
The memories of you and flew too wings
Just so you know that thoughts are
Full of you and me and things and all
The ideas we want to say but bubble
Up from the wordless places and then
Attached to skin shapes of words
And sent to thought patterns called
Voice, text, mail, napkin and then just
Looked at with the eye as the face's
Emotions tumble out in a sigh
A giggle and a Laugh and then sleep
Sleep of calm and peace and rest


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 241

Dear Readers,


Water of her Voice


The call came in just after 11
Nervous was my hands and feet tingled
First time she called me
First time I heard her
First time her voice watered me
Fed me a living water that Jesus
Knew her voice would
Looking at her today feeds me
The sight of her face
The hold of her hand
Nourishes so deeply
Jesus knew his gift would be
Perfect for me in a deep way
His living water
Flows from places we can not see
But then we open our eyes
And see the faces and voices
Of each other and see
Jesus holding our hands
Together in his
Is why we can't tell them apart


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 240

Dear Readers,


Girl I Got Two


To tell you two hands are as one
But then you and me both know that
These could be song Lyrics but they are
Nothings and Somethings and Home

To tell you the day never ends
Sent you a thought was we the dream
Unending spending money filled Penny
This could be a nurse re timer

Are those bird calls still heard
Or did they not replace the battery
You finally stepped in and took
Was it the hugs or the cuddles we did

Girl I got a thought or two
Give me your hand let us dance in tune
Till midnight afternoon and go
See a picture show on the boat at sea

Girl I got two tell you too
To many times the distant chimes of
Misty minds linkage the thoughts
In my sing song head to you

And this mail be pony expression
To you in one line expansions
That send me vast flashes of forever
Always and explosions of dreaming
Saying to you That Daze Night vibrations


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 239

Dear Readers,



Blue Water Balloons


They sat in a big pile the Balloons
They were not yet filled with water
But they could hear the water over there
Laughing and giggling and splashing each other
The water is that fancy stuff
H and Two of them and O
They each just kind of laugh at the facts
Of water being so special that Humans
Still do not know all the special bits yet
But the Balloons knew and they were sighing
To be filled in various measures
To be filled and then just gathered into
A small blue water balloon pile
To wait out the two
Green Glasses Girl and
Blue Glasses Boy
And the August fun


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 238

Dear Readers,



Interlaced


Her universe slides into mine
Interlaced with skin that feels
The touch of my hands
When I am not there to actually touch
Interlaced fingers where one finger
Is understood to be both ours
We can't tell where one ends
We skin deep go further
Ideas and thoughts mingle
Feelings flow into the same cup
The universe is not just a water balloon
But the water and the cloud it came from
Red the color of the cloth held water
The bunny on the dew covered clover
The wings of sweet somethings jumping
Forward into the Air filled with Nothings
All of them saying in our voices
I Love You and then sliding to depths
On our skin exposed at the interlace zone
She is tired now and wants to cuddle
So in a few seconds I will slide my Left-
Hand into hers and ask her that question
She knows the answer to the question
But I as yet don't know where it will flow
We might play the Darkness eyes open
And guide each other in a dance on dew
Or just Mei Fun on buttered toast egg on top
And one fork and one mug of coffee
But as always and forever I say

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles,

Poem for her 237

Dear Readers,



The color Red

I tell her today wear the red pair
I say also that White pair is for later
That some teal will go well at this time
It might be a paint by numbers game
Or a late night cloth shoe swap
What you see is not what she reads
What shoulder is she looking over?
Is the newest gadget in her hands
A sauce pan or a computer?
What if it was both
What if the shoes went with the computer
Or the necklace that she wears
Talks to her at night when she sleeps
What if the velvet is soft honey
Colored drips and some bunny color
Was being felt under a red napkin?

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 236

Dear Readers,


Showers


She likes to stand under the water and soak
So Our cabin shower allows her to do just that
The water is in an on demand system that
Heats the water as it flows and won't
Ever run out of hot water glowing
So her showers can be as long as she likes them
Since I like several kinds of water flow
We have several settings
Waterfall is one I like the water splashes
Down from a long shelf and crashes on you
Or the summer shower which is a lot of drops
All spread out over a wide area some heavier
The pulse heads and the fine mist fogs
Also features to add to the experience
The water source is natural and it returns
To a swamp bed room of the greenhouse
So it goes in a return cycled system
The showers were geared to give us both
What we wanted and more than that
A place to find water comfort when the
Days are long and bumpy or just
Normal and fun but with a soothing shower
To make the extra time under water Better

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Rachel of Cardholder Services.

Dear Readers,


Just now that call came in, it is a local number so you pick it up, thinking it is the friend that lost their phone and had to get a new number. But it is that Lady's voice, she is telling you that your Credit Cards are not over due or even out of Print, but that you can get help with.....yada yada . Now I have gone to the trouble a few times to actually get to a living person in a busy phone center then they start asking for all those things your credit card company might ask for but then that isn't the whole of it, they want to sell you a service that is..................... Um I can not say it is a scam but it feels like one. But it might be perfectly Legal what they are doing. But this is not the missive of the post though it is the inductive of the post, as I was about to sit down and write a story about the White card anyway.


So with out further ado.


..................


The White Card.


The Clerk was a bit ticked off this homeless person was trying to pass off some kind of scam on him, and he had just motioned for security to be ready to handle things, when the Hotel Manager walked out of his office. Doug, thought he was going to have a heart attack this was the worst day of his life right this second, trying to make a great first week impression, and then this homeless person showed up, and then the call from his girlfriend, and then the car wreck this morning that put him 4 minutes late.

The Manager came to the desk and then said.

"Hello Mr. Danner, So good to see you again. It has been a while since you have visited us, I thought that there might have been some troubles on one of your trips."

The homeless man looked a bit worn out and his hair was matted and there was bugs crawling on his shirt sleeves and there seemed to be putrid flies flying about his head and the scent coming off him was making Doug want to throw up.

"Hello Alfred, It has been a long time hasn't it?"

Doug was shocked again, He knew the manager's first name himself, but no customer was ever given that private information, company policy.


The Homeless man said. "Doug here is about to learn about my method of payment, He has been doing a stand up job so far, he was about to call American Express and confirm the card's Coded number, though I think he still might need some help with the prefix codes."

The manager laughed. He knew that Doug was not doing any of that and that security had been called and that Joseph the Hotel's Chief had sent two of his most well informed and that they were keeping the smiles off their faces concerning the whole affair at the front desk.

"Thank you, Mr. Danner, I will be sure to make a note in Doug's record of your praise of his care giving helpfulness."

Doug had to blink a few times and not look at Mr. Danner, as the flies were starting to bother him and the smell still about to make him sick.

.... Authors note.... Yes Mr. Danner looked like a homeless man a lot, and today was one of the more prone times and even though Alfred knew he sometimes looked like this we might later find out that this time shocked even Alfred, even though he doesn't say so to the fact right now.........

The Homeless man looked at Doug and smiled. And said, "Doug, I am sorry for my appearance but I have been to hell and back the last few weeks. The bugs won't bother anyone else as soon as I get a shower and a change of clothes. I tend to arrive here looking like the garbage heap was drug through me, as it is the nature of my business at times."


.................

End of this segment of the story

Tune in soon to get more bits of the odd life of the world's richest Man. Also seen in "The Safe Safe" and other stories.

May you have the Peace of Christ.

Charles.

Poem for her 235

Dear Readers,


She smiles

As I write a line on a napkin
As I tug at her belt loops
As she sees me get out the mint tea
As she watches me paint by the numbers
..On the t-shirt she will wear soon
As I warm her hands in from the cold
As I run the roll sweeper not the vacuum
As I bake potatoes for her lunch
As I butter some graham crackers and
..Get the picnic basket ready for next time
As I open the flyer to a new winery
As I turn down the bed and fluff her pillow
As I turn on the lights when we leave
As I motion to the dance floor
As I pick up the phone and say hello babe
As I talk to her all morning from midnight
As I kiss her ankles and massage her feet
As I tap the table and we go back to playing
As I write another note to her that says

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 234

Dear Readers,


Steadfast

She is my soul
She holds me close
She keeps watch over me
She smiles at my words
She holds my hands
She kisses me long
She hugs me close
She is my soul
She loves forever and always
She is steadfast
She reads these words
She giggles as I say
She likes ponds
She hands me the fork
She cut the food
She smiled as I wrote
She laughed as she did
She sang happy birthday to me
She is my soul


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 233

Dear Readers,


Pond in summer


She doesn't like to swim in the pond
But she likes the pond
We made one in the city house back yard
We made one in the yard of the cabin
She will wade in them and get the beach ball
If we are playing beach ball bingo
Or other fun Pond games
The fish in the city pond are friendly
They are several that I used to keep
They eat the natural foods ponds have
We like the ponds in winter too
The pond in the woods can freeze over
Not sure I'd trust going skating on it
Unless it's been cold cold for a while
Hard to imagine cold cold after a hot summer
The days wear on and the trees sweat
The shirts stick to us and we both complain
Then I spray her with some ice water and
She giggles about the same time she
Splashes me with the ice too
So now our shirts stick for different reasons
But we are cool finally and winter is just near
Over there in the sun beams of the future months


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 232

Dear Readers,



Snuggled Close

The sound of the skin on skin feeling
The sound of her purring in my ear
The sound of my fingers brushing her shoulder
Snuggled so close when she falls asleep
I hear each intake and out flow of breath
The fan over head make soft ticking sounds
The air flowing down cool in the evening
The heat of summer slowed with wind mild
I can't get enough of her but snuggle close
I want our dozing time to last longer
Than the one night, to last into the day
We sleep the next morning til after dawn
The breakfast we share hot and with mint tea
The next night a glow of knowing
She will be snuggled close again and
Sounds of purring breathing in my ear


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 231

Dear Readers,



Summer Mondays

The porch swing at noon is almost stopped
It was swinging early on with the breeze
But now with the heat of noon rolling in
It has paused it's shifting sway
The two of us are in the cabin
In the living room dining area with
Paints and some big sheets of paper
And a few old shirts we are painting up
To be some sort of art work and something
That when worn gardening can make us
Just disappear in the foliage with a shirt on
She is better at the colors than I am
I just want to brush her fingers with mine
The cool inside air chilled some what more
With coolness of the Hunter fans above our head
And soft lights of sun filtered in nothing harsh
It is the afternoon to snooze in the pool
Of the big couch and just laze about
Drinking chilled home made lemon aide
Chilled inside from the heat and humidity
Of the front porch swinging this morning
Hearing each other sleep through the night
Soft touches on the paper of paints and laughs
She sings a tune I can just about guess
And I want to kiss her elbow and hum too
We drift off to afternoon naps and sleep


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 230

Dear Readers,


Afternoon Naps


Seems the dog days of summer are here
The wind stops, the clouds roll in
The sleepy eyes drift up to the face
And snoozing for a nap is all I think about
Well all I think about but Her
She is there on her laptop and I want
Things that have to wait
As the rain is not here yet
As the snow in winter is not here yet
So Off to a nap I go
She sits there smiling as I drift past
Kisses my fingers as I stand for seconds
There to tell her of my plan
To go on an afternoon Nap
Just over there on yonder bed
She has things to do but smiles
And nods to my query
I'll dream for both of us then
And when night fall happens
Will draw her close
And share the dreams
With long embrace


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 229

Dear Readers,


Subtle dew on feet


Barefoot morning out to yard
The soft feet of night time fall
Wetness cool and thick on our feet
Lifting her feet up to my lap
As we sit on a park bench out back
I kiss her feet again with glee
It is always a mild need to me
To see what venues I can kiss her in
I like her ankles in my hands
It isn't something I can stop
The need to hold her feet and
Kiss them softly whenever them near
I have always seen them as something
Special and very dear
These feet of my dear heart
Held to me in subtle dew so sweet

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 228

Dear Readers,


Slow boil


Of desire as we sit there at two tables
Seeing each other but not at the same one
Sitting there in the library full of others
Sighing at the silence of the room
Knowing our minds are being filled
With louder sounds of singing and music
Sitting there dancing in our thoughts
As we gaze at each other and jump up
In our mind's eye as we dance the next number

Slowly dance and fast paced thoughts
Boiling over the table top at the
Library where we have to be and can
Only think the fast thoughts of hand in hand
And boiling touch of other's hand on side
The room grows faded still more and silent
As we sit and stare at each other and the
Heat of thoughts range up and down the
Soft embrace of her hand in mine

I know she'd kiss me long and longer still
I'd kiss her back and rub her shoulders
Bare under the touch of velvet hands
She'd arch her back and passion flow
The slow dance slowed to standing still
The music loud and the singing fill
Our minds as we sit there in the library
Two tables away but close at hand and
Deep in togetherness always and forever
Standing as one soul in the room


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 227

Dear Readers,


Slow Saturday

When you want to be somewhere else
..But can't and the day wears on and on
When you can't seem to get the things done
..You'd like to do and the day wears on
..slowly in the wrong direction from where
..You'd wanted it to go
You could just grin and bare it or
Write a slow poem about it all

Or could just dream of other things
..Like things you'd rather do

Charcoal and lace the thoughts race
The beige bunny fast paces the floor
The ideas of a poem flow in the Place
Of the slow saturday where we didn't get
..what we wanted yet we can think of other
Things while we are waiting for them to happen

The tree cutting is a stand by thing
We load the logs for later use
We see the cabin in the vision of the day
Plan the weekend stay and hold fast
To the first dance in the morning dew
As the day wears on and on we hold
The hand of the other and dance
The night away into the dawn of
Soft red room glowing stars above


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 226

Dear Readers,



Frilly Fridays


The lace on the top of her shirt
The feeling she gives me when our hands touch
Eight minutes past Eight PM when I hear her say
...Reset and she runs to the lobby
Only to show back up wearing lacy things
She smiles when I ask her where is the sword
You all wonder why this is even in a poem
I smile and say why not
Frilly chills when I hand her the last
Ice cream on a stick from the ice box
Until the last bite we share of caramel pie
Dripping off the spoon
Landing and gazed at with longing
Frilly chills of goose bumps as the
Cold drops of spring rain slide off her nose
In the chilled house in the city
Longingly looked at as we kiss
The caramel pie's empty pan and spoon still
Able to drip useful drops


Happy Birthday Babe,


Charles.

Poem for her 225

Dear Readers,



The Rain Dance


Was it a waltz?
He didn't know
The Girl with green glasses
Stopped and bent to tie her shoelaces
He was about to start the dance again
When lightening split the sky
They both looked up
His blue glasses shone with the light
He wanted to hold her longer
And did
The rain hit the gazebo roof just now
And they both smiled
As they like one being walked down the steps
Into the light to heavy at times rain
They loved puddles too and liked
While riding their bikes going into
The creeks they knew to splash in
They danced in the rain well into the night
Not going home to their houses
Till the rain finally stopped near dawn
Dancing all night in the rain


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 224

Dear Readers,


Six months of happy birthday wishes is a milestone for us, but slides into a pattern of thinking that has been something I was able to do, due to her being there. She encouraged me in all of my writings.


Ankles in hand


The feet in my hands are just there resting
On me as I sit cross from her
Her task at hand is varied
First time I touched them she was
Resting there on her stomach
The next time it was during a picnic
The next time while sitting facing each other
...her on a computer and me too
She smiles when I tell her about them
The lines the textures the skin tone
Alabaster and hard and formed of stone
And beating pulse of blood flow
Hot due to my hands on her
Hotter still due to the fact that
My hands are on her today
Hotter still as I get to say

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 223

Dear Readers,


There on the couch,


She sits there on the couch or chair
Or there wherever she is in that thought
Of hers when she tells me her idea
Of what is going to happen when
When she has that first
Kiss after we see each other
This morning

Oh yes it could just be
Her rolling over just slightly and
Seeing me there as she opens her eyes
Or it could be as I place the breakfast tray
There for her to eat
Or we could be apart
And she sees me
Coming into the space she is in

It does not plan a mind made up to be
It is only a kiss for her to see
As she touches my lips slowly free
To do as she pleases
Without a plan for me to see
Only mind to know that I am there
Under the lips of her to be


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 222

Dear Readers,


Press one for more options,


The voicemail voice intones
Or Press one for more options.

I say,
I am pressing one for more options.
Then I say,
......Something
.......More things
....Even something different

I never pick the same things twice
Or not often enough to make them
Sound bland over time

I want to tell her so many things
I never have enough time
To say them all
Even when I have all of her attention
Turned to me

I just lace my fingers into hers
And say nothing at all
Because words aren't needed then
When she is sitting there
In my hands
Only her there
Is the best case
The time to say
Nothing
But

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 221

Dear Readers,


Adam n Eve 2.0

The garden was full of things growing
The flowers were there and the pond too
The pond here was not like the one at the cabin
It was smaller and had fish and a fountain
And wasn't for wading or swimming
But the Eden garden was still cool
Just not as big as the First one

She and I aren't named adam and eve
Her name you'll not know any time soon
But Charles is related to Adam
But even more than that My blog's title
Is from the story line
Churl dan Ur
And Adam was first then Churl
As the way names go
I have been Adam for years in story lines

So now we are here
Her and I in t he city house
Pond just there in t he plans drawn up
The garden and greenhouse and birds
The porch swing and us
Adam and Eve 2.0 in more than
Meets the poets breathlessness


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 220

Dear Readers,



The doorway to somethings.


Sweet Somethings flowed into the room
There they hung at the sides of the
Room's edges and looked at me as I reclined
They say nothing but for her voice
Slipping into my ear and saying
Sweet things that only they knew
And now me too


They hang in the air and stare at me
They walk into the room of my places
There they are Like Penny but not Penny
There they are only and only and only
Her visage and Her soul's image and Her
Controlled thoughts and thinking as they
Visit me there where ever there is

Then she tells me that they are whatever
I Need them to be, and truth has a name
It is Christ's Gift of Freedom and Heavenly Home
She sends them to me and they are His
Messages to me via her thoughts and my needs
And God's Unlimited Spirit to Heal.


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 219

Dear Readers,




Velvet and the Red Hood


The softest touch over the red space
The gentle touch of soft hairs
The spaces gleamed with an inner glow
Flowing as if melting snow
Drip drip onto hot pavement
Subtle hint of coffee smell
And just one single drop of honey
Swirled into the cup and valley there
Soft wet dry sound like cat licking
But not a cat tongue
The inner warmth of red hued Hood

Climbing up the wall of ice
To shear drop off either side
The hint of lightening in the air
The sounds of quickened wind
The rustle of leaves and the pulled paper
The earthquake shaking of the cup and valley
Makes the ground call out groans
The land parts and finally the
Waters flow stops and silence
Is there but for the chimes


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 218

Dear Readers,



Pool room Shark and the Girl.


The shark sat at a bar stool
He was chatting with the Girl
She was laughing and smiling and
She was having all the fun she could handle
Today was a very special day
She was being taken
To a pool hall
For the first time in a long time
Shark was there with the sticks
His both of them, but
Today she was carrying one of them
He had said she should play with both
But he had given her the other to carry
There on the table they were in cases
They were in cases and whispering
To each other the cases were
The sticks inside were also in the conversation
The Shark and the Girl were listening to them
But the others in the bar
Couldn't hear the soft voices of them
Shark was giving her a play by play
Of the way to play pool and
She giggled and pointed to the table
And there a Slinky was moving about the table
In rainbow colors and it is was singing
And then it went over the edge and
Did not fall off but was laughing at the fun
It was having
With them and the table


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

MesoFear and the MesoSphere

Dear Readers,


Story line time.



Mesofear walked into the bar. He was to be feared. Or he was to be loved. It all depended on whom you were. Males almost always, but not nearly always, just something about him drew the fears of Male-kind to fear him. Though always differently females just fawned over him though they might keep their distance they would all look to him with a mixture of lust, love and wanting, though they had nothing to Fear of him ever, though the males might not should of had any fear of him, they would fear him on a gut level even if they were not the object of his intense glaring eyes.


The MesoSphere was not part of this area but was there in the center of the Galaxy core or one of them anyway, it was a construction project of vast scale so vast of a scale that few knew how big it would get or how much time it would take to finish it. Though Mesofear was the Owner of the Project the Grand project that it was, he also did not know the full scale of the final finished product, just how big it was getting decade after decade century after century. It had been started so long ago that Mesofear did not know how to inform someone about it's beginnings, besides to say that he had been there in the beginning. Even before the first thoughts of the project was started and there were just Mesofear and the others there. But Mesofear was the only one there really the only one there ever in a vast starting time.

He was so old in his own mind that he had lost all context to time in any form other than being alive and that he would never in this realm die any known death.

Though he did wonder at times if when he finally got back to his home in the far away place that it was if he would one day die the death he used to know about, but times had changed so long all these years and eons of ages that he did not often think about death in any real terms.

But today in this bar he was seeking some answers and this place was oddly stranger than all his other encounters that he was thinking maybe here was the help he sought.

A young man walked up to him and said.

"Hi my name is Joey."



.............................


More later

May you all have the Peace of Christ the Lord of Lords and the King of Kings.


Charles.