Poem for her 310

Dear Readers,



When the Planes Fly Over


The city house lives near a small airport
The day is sometimes filled with over flights
Buzzing prop engines like heavy sounds
Over head and fast sound when air shows play
The sights of planes always fun to me
We sometimes sit and watch them over head
But from our back yard porch area and shade
The flowers wave in the breeze and smile
The birds eat the grain we put out
We kiss to the sounds of the seasons
It's not easy to pass up her lips
It is something like breathing
Have to kiss her, have to touch her
The days grow short on light and cooler
But the hours still the same and filled
With many soft kisses and sounds of planes


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.