Poem for her 365

Dear Readers,


Adventures in Renting Trees


The tree looked nice so someone sawed it to a log
The cabin looked nice so someone put it in a tree
The cottage full of logs but up in a tree
Tree houses and cabins and fireplaces and pocket doors
The trees and all the cabins jingle some bells
The season drifts round close again when you will say
Happy Birthday Charles with something neat
And I will smile and gift to you a full year
Filled with mild fired gem stones made of colored rocks
Filled with logs and cabins and plans and that plane
Tattooed on the spot you wanted it to be so tiny
Only I knew it was not a mole hill but the plane
The one shaped like a kite with string and green
The slight of hand as the stack of sticks
Rented from the big huge toy store
The stack of adventures when pick up sticks smile
The camera sees your voice in smile and hears boldly
You know what's gonna be the problem though....
Yes babe those nails grow and grow and well
The cabin is full of grown trees and even the other
Tree house in the big Sycamore is full of hard wood
So the bold voice of yours softly telling me
Happy Birthday Babe...I say back

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Hedging the Butter

Dear Readers,


New thought story in "the safe safe" Series with the man who is known as Charles Danner.



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


Hedging the butter.


Charles was looking over at her sitting on the table, she was going to sit in the chair but then she didn't and now was on the table. They were in a cottage sized room, but not the one at the beach, nor the one in the forests of the mountain cabin's vast expanse in the planet they were the only humans on. They were in a hotel room. Some city he did not know where exactly, He'd been in the lobby just hours before in an unfinished scene around the White Card thread of his universes. But here she sat on the table a smile on her face and then they heard the shower in the bathroom turn on and the odd sounds that she knew and he knew she knew about. He smiled at her and Held his right hand up and said nothing they said things in their heads, the mental conversation was of a vast expanse of fluid and fire and lightening and peace but also at times fear and slow boils when the tension between them got strained. Their universes slipping more and more out of synk The polar overlays the postings to linked connection sights on the Time-Table_K1ninerfiverzevenk1 the code flashed into the air near them and appearing seconds later 4 penny.

The girls were all younger ones and they all faced Charles and Her. they held out two items.


Butter and graham crackers

He had a blade and they ate breakfast

The coffee was not to arrive it was going to have to be out take, homed in room service they'd need to go gaming at a pool hall later they did not know how long they'd be there but the 7 humans in the hotel room were there till the shower sounds stopped.

The 4 penny said things and the Babe was frowning and Charles smiled and said

Babe I love you....styx music was heard suddenly in all the universes that had ever heard styx music it was a new creation suddenly in 100's of thousands of brand spanking new Universes and then...........




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


Slices of stories is all I have time for but this is for

Happy Birthday Babe...

And all the other readers too

The Peace of Christ be to you all.

Poem for her 364

Dear Readers,



There was a


The voice you were sub vocaling with was
The voice of the thoughts unspoken yet known
The sighs of the wisps of the static line noise
The ideas streaming fast but transmuted
Time lines moon phase shifting sands and drifting minds
Hard to see things non vocaling away in the lime light
Stage lights harsh the players at their marks
Roar of the fans and the crowds to be
The pain of place the dread of the day
The pain of addictions not met the skin not touched
The awareness of need hunger not fed skin craving
The night to long for one
To long and disrupted for the other
The rages of non-togetherness
Needs to say and hands to hold then bold for me
Lines of code in the ether air gossip sings
The sounds of a Metallica song and the crowd roar
Oh would someone just turn that dripping TV off already
The days to long by far but the calm call
The downloaded thoughts and the soft moves
The night rushing pillow hugs and hands in the
The night longer still drifts on two boats at anchor
But one in storm tides wake and one on shoal sleep
The two boats at sea and then meet again at dawn
The voices or crackle radio and the plan to sail
They move over a forested floor and the cabin pine
The trees bloom with color and bare
The barefoot plodding at morning eggs to slice
The coffee smells the wine of last night's soup cool
The dreams slip in and out not yet dawn
Then the door bell rings and
The smiles shine a new year is here soon
Only a few days away
Party we will be making
Kissing soon

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 363

Dear Readers,



The Red Berries


They are on a Bush type plant beside the house
They are on the wreath on the tree and in a holly
They are in a plastic tray in your hand
They are on your belly button and next to your ear
They are on the floor where the carpet says Hi
They are on the allover skirt you are wearing today
Thy hands in mine babe that sweet taste on my lips
The sight of the map with the Red Berry logo
We laugh at that one as You designed it and
We have a steady state drip drip income off it
The logo says Hi There you have arrived
Red Berry Diner
Though the owner of Red Berry did not pay us
The customers that Order the Oysters do
One buying of a Full tray Puller and Pluck
There if you see the story in the local weekly
There is a Table I am selling from the shop
You have done the art work on the surfaces
And I took your design and we Made a table
To sell and see if the handy work of just alive
And having a blast just living all our days full
The days don't stop just because we are in bed
They continue while we nap there and snuggle
They all go by drip drip drip drip like a leak
They all just out gassing from a stream or the spring
The Pool table that we own along with 34 others
Down at the senior center in town
We play there for free because We are a nice town
We love things with our eyes and kiss all night long


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 362

Dear Readers,



The cold


The cough was a bit bad that morning
The head was stuffy and things hurt
You and me both were a bit under the weather
But then again we are all under the weather
It is all around us even up in space on the ISS
But you want me to say less and just sleep
But I want to say more and I do
I say all sorts of things and talk and talk
You say shhh and I keep talking and you say
shhhh and frown and I keep talking still
The bit of you that then foams a bit
Smiles too, as I was talking with my tongue
Saying a lot of things but not words
The things my tongue can say not heard
The hearing of those around us would hear wind
The cough and the stuffy head sounds
But the skin next to your hands
The skin in the palms of our hands touching
Would hear my tongue talking and talking and
Then the loudness of that shhhh it's a library
They'd look at us there on that park bench
And they'd smile not knowing who we were
But I'd talk on and on and on saying


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 361

Dear Readers,



One degree


The wind was rather cold outside
The wind inside was warm and smelled of mint
The warm cup was sitting there on the table
The hands were not on the cup
The hands were rubbing a pair of shoulders
The shoulders were going umm ahh and their voice
Said
Umm and Ahh too
Their voice also said
Love you charles.

You are only one degree off the centerline
The drawing is almost complete
The King of hearts is face up
The set of three face downs and you see
The 4 of hearts in your hand and
I say, it's yours babe before I turn mine over
Love you Charles
You say

The one degree of the cold wind outside
Cracks a few tree limbs and the birds fly
And the clock inside hits
12:52
Then you say
Love you Charles.

I turn my card over
The 2 of diamonds and smile
Yours babe

Happy Birthday Babe

Love, Charles.

Charles.

Poem for her 360

Dear Readers,

Note to readers, It is the 360 th degree poem and placement of this series and time line all rolled into God's prefect timing that makes everything possible. The sense that emotion is flowing and someone is crying and sad or happy and can't breath or awe struck and can't see for the tears running down their faces. But more than that it is the 360 field of view that most people want to have and aren't able to capture on film and even when they do it distorts in odd ways hard to explain for authors the world over. But as this series has evolved to be more than the sum of it's parts and still about That Babe I love, I have reached the point of today's muse. 360 is the number but it's greater than the number and lesser than the year full of days, an lots less than a year since I started the first one of these. God granted our prayers before we prayed them, just that some of the timing of the answers are not known to us till after the fact has gone by, or suddenly rushes into focus. Her dream was made real when God put it in her head to dream, but till she met me the dream was just a dream for her. I have always seen her in a story that I have had in that same dream state of hers yet I was awake when I dreamed it, it was also made real when God placed it in my vision. While I am saying making real,, For God it was always real, as his time has no line to it. So here we are at the poem for her of today Number 360 lets see what it will be.........


Bookends

The fingers slide over each other
The skin on skin feel the camera shows
The sound of his voice and hers heard
The hands in camera shot close and sharp
But also soft and textured sliding over
Each other like selfless single shapes
I say something to her as she watches
She says something back to me and
We watch ourselves in camera work
The skin of my hand is rubbing her
The places my fingers go she feels
As she reads this poem for her
They will slide where she knows they do
And over all the head to toe range
The dreams at edge of sleep range
From place to place and till no end
The camera saw a breath of time
But We are always hand in hand


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 359

Dear Readers,


The Sound

Of your sigh when you think
The laugh you make when you laugh
The giggles that you give me
The little looks that are on video
The sway of you side to side when you dance
Your soft intake of breath
There are so many little sounds
That just go on that I love them all
You might not notice them yourself
But having watched in my mind's eye
And on the camera screen the scenes
You are full of small wonderments that I love
I love you, I love you, I love you
Soul of my Soul
The sound of the night whisper
The sound of your feet wiggling
The sound of you sleeping
When I see you arrive even on screen
I am hearing many layers of you
And I love them all, You are Awesome

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 358

Dear Readers,


The bed sheets

We put the off white bed sheet out over the leaves
The thought was tree sap staining
The idea is that the leaves will impart color
To the fibers of cotton in the sheet
And in a few weeks of the sun and the leaves
Being sure to take it in if it freezes
The color will be off the leaves and on the sheet
The art project is not new
We'd do this several times a year
The sheets were not the good ones on the bed
But what we'd cut into squares and make art with
But right now we are washing the flannel ones
The ones that we last used and the others
Before we put the new set on the bed
We need a nap soon and fresh sheets
Umm smell nice for naps
Right after we make this tea and plant these seeds
And tell each other happy birthday
And the dance to that new tune we found
Oh and there is that egg dish we want to try too
So many things, glad we can just nap now

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 357

Dear Readers,


Poems on a swing


Sitting there reading this you think
That swing we sat on holding hands
You know the one where you said
I think we should plant the apple over there
And you point to the edge of our herb patch
That swing was the second swing we had
The first we wore out swinging on
This newer one is 10 years old
Like the grape vines over on the hill
Swings and trees and vines all year long
The days where we share a game of something
The tie dyed skirts and t-shirts
Swinging in the summer breeze
Or sweaters and flannel
Swinging in the fall brisk air
Something noted in a blue notebook
The pages replaced every year with fresh ones
The former year going up in the library
You write something on a page and circle it
With flowers and hearts and a sweet nothing
I tell you a new poem soft whispered to you
While the two of us sit on this swing

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 356

Dear Readers,


Hot Butter


Your voice is hot butter on my tongue
Melting into my hearing as you whisper
The sounds of sighs that speak volumes
I'd spread you out thin and let you sink in
To make my skin live for a while longer
As I melt into your whispers
I hear you softly say Night Night
And I want to draw a thousand lines
Slowly paint your voice in shades of cream
Sweet butter of the dreamy textures
You make me hold my breath and listen long
I love the textures of your voice
The day brightens when I hear you
Even if the gloom outside is heavy
Your voice makes it so much lighter
The hot butter of your whisper melts me

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 355

Dear Readers,



Wishing for Snow.


Sitting on our porch in the swing
We are looking out at the fallen leaves
Wishing for that first snow fall
To go and gather some for a snowball
Make the first snow angels
To see the first signs of winter for sure
The excuse, hey it's snowing we can't go there
The winter coughs and sneezes might not stop
But the first snow is the nice spot
Where the forest slows and the paints come out
The camera gets to see you in your hood
Though you don't like hats
The hood keeps the ears warm in the snow
Though you have long hair still and it's thick
Little Red Riding Hood in the forest
With me the Wolf howling the first snows close

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 354

Dear Readers,


Her Face


You sit there and I look at you
Your face is looking forward as you drive
The hands on the butter knife sure
You drive the knife into the butter
Spreading it on the graham cracker
The car going just as fast as needed
I see you in the seat smiling
Thinking of two thoughts at once
We all see things in a slight blur
Here in the moment and also elsewhere
I can tell you things as they drift past
Moving faster than the light should
As things mesh into the blur of thought
And emotions and at times both
You at the wheel and dinner table
Driving two different hands full of cards
Pulling one forward and one back and
I win some and I lose track of where we are
Until I shift my gaze and hand you the wine glass
Cheers babe Thanks for the note of knowing me

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 353

Dear Readers,


The Kiss

Your face in front of me the coat still on
I stand there and look at you glasses just off
The blue sky eyes bright and wide
I am trying to think which hand is which
I want to kiss the left hand and have to decide
I also want to kiss your lips but want your hand first
The day stands out and then shifts
The night we kiss hello arrives again and again
As we arrive in the same second each century
As the long day goes by the turning of the dial
The radio plays that song again, or that other one
The song where I play the banjo and you sing
The sounds of the dreams in our ears as I write
The lyrics of the next song we are to sing
Then you wake and I am rubbing your back low and slow
The night is not here yet but your sighs are
Sounding in my ear and repeat my name.

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 352

Dear Readers,


Hunting

For a card to send you
To make you that new recipe
Those little mint leaves in the tea
You wanted to get the red cape
So you got it, now it's in the closet
Bring up the blue one next to it
Where the pocket has the stars from the pool
The ones that fell off the tree we moved
The one we cut for christmas two years ago
Those capes you like to wear
Hanging in the closet of new cedar wood
Holding you in my hands as we dance
The night is young let us play a few more tunes
The radio dial set to all your favorite stations
Hunting for just the right song to dance to
The dawn's early edges flow into the window
Finds your head curled into my shoulder
Both of us asleep and the radio's soft melody
Hunts for a few more dance steps


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 351

Dear Readers,

Five and time

Your foot wiggled on the bed
The thoughts running through my head
The fingers and toes meshed slow
The giggles of your laughter tickled low
The toes sat there and I wanted them
They wanted just a bit more than fingers
I slowly moved and there was a slip of giggle
I had just licked your toes all five of them
I pulled your foot closer to me
Slipped my hand under your leg
Moved my fingers to the beat of your time
The sounds on your laptop barely heard
The music playing as I kissed your leg
Or your foot when I wasn't massaging the other
The other foot safe under covers
Was just a few minutes away from
More of the same, another five and time


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 350

Dear Readers,


The Drive,


The drive down memory lane that you took
When my camera was rolling was windy
The smile on your face as you pointed out things
Touched by my hands on your thigh
The song on the radio was about kissing
The kissing we had done just hours before
The missing of your touch on my face
The lick of butter off the graham crackers
The slice of raspberry on the spoon
The sound you make when I touch your hem line
The wind over the highway as we drive
I can't tell the readers all our thoughts
The ones on video or the ones not
I look at your laughter and smile the taste
Of you fresh as the morning dew on my toes
The heat adjusted as you are in coat
And I am in summer garb with just a bit of chill
The night longer without us in each other's arms
The day still and dim in the room as we sleep
The taste of each other fresh on the kiss


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 349

Dear Readers,


Cards

You said it'd take you a while to find one
I handed you the deck and we played
The egg on cheeses on grilled bread meal done
The video recording the smiles and laughter
The day bright and sunshine in the cabin
Home again after long weeks in town
Planting the backyard with roses and garlic
Singing in the morning summer dew
You'd been wearing that summer dress we liked
The shade of the trees shared with the clover
The smell of a fresh cut mint sprig in your hand
The thoughts about chocolate and mint and raisins
The smile of your face once I said I'd want a giggle
You move your lips this way and that and I kiss you
In the poses in the mirror the camera sees the sigh
In the fingers sliding over the shoulders a mew
The day grows breezy and the dress flutters in your swirl
The game is a toss up You win, I win, when we hit 26 each
The notes taken down in the diary about the flowers picked
The camera angled to take pictures of your hands
In the flower pile tossing them in the air
The cards you will pick over the years each wonderful
The smiles and laughter drawn on paper edges
Pleasing to our sight as the days drift by


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 348

Dear Readers,



Grey with reddish pin stripes

Smooth shoulders there in the morning chill
The heat of the evening past flowing slow
The goose pimples you laugh about
As my fingers cool touch your neck
The plate on the table empty and smiling
It had our toast and eggs and rice
And the noodles and the shrimp too
Splashed all on top of it
We napped and whispered the day by
The notes and flowers drawn on the pages
The Words you wrote singing softly to me
The thoughts of your feet in my hands
The look of you standing there eyes alight
The feel of time standing still
The touch of lips keeping me
Always and Forever hands held together
The coffee warm and the glass full
Thinking of lines to write on you


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 347

Dear Readers,


Tying Shoes


You put your shoes on
Then balance and put your foot up
Resting it on my knee
I pull the laces and tie your shoe
We repeat the other foot
You balancing there
On one foot then the other
I smile at you
Old enough to do it yourself
But young enough to have me do them
Younger than the tree in the back yard
Planted when we were just dreams
Putting your feet on my knees
Letting me massage the ankles
The ones just contained by shoes
Hours ago when you went driving
To the shop to get more Mei Fun
There you are wine glass in hand
Seeking that first taste
Some new bottle we'd gotten
At that new winery down the road
Kissing your lips after taste of wine
Sweet by their own right
Remembering that first day I kissed you
Decades ago when you were in parking lot
Close in hands on back soft sighs
That need to doze right as you read the line


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 346

Dear Readers,


Naps in the afternoon

Your shoulders there in my hands
Then the small of your back
Aches rubbed away slowly
Relaxing to both of us
You and I both wake hungry
Grilled cheese with the cheese you bought
Yummy you write in our diary
The room chilled slightly and you close
Arms around each other sleep filled
Day drifts by and then kisses
More kisses to stir the mind to sleep


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 345

Dear Readers,


Anything


The red candy stripped girl said to me
Yes you babe
There was that question and then
Anything as the answer
Not sure what the question was now
Your lips make me forget my name
My oh my what they say when they kiss me
I hear us purr like cats
I watch the video of your toes
In their new color
Shades close to ones you've had before
Or new ones
Still fresh from my fingers moving them
Massaging your feet and calves
Seeing the red here and there, seeing you
Smile again and seeing your hand shake
The back warm where kinks touched
The sighs of contentment
Kiss you all century long
Touch you even longer

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 344

Dear Readers,


Tired and cuddling


In your arms I am cuddling
Though I was tired minutes ago
Your arms make me comfortable
But awake and longing
To have the night last ages
Past the pease to me I had said
Then you laughed and we slept
Resting in the arms of
Together


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 343

Dear Readers,


Blue sky fall


There we were standing in the room
The room full of art works hanging or sitting
The room so full that we'd have to come back
Just to see them all and gaze around
You'd see us holding hands
There in the room often as we liked this place
It had the fall colors on landscapes
The bright spring colors of full blooms
And the heady shades of summer and winter
The days we'd be seen there would also be
The sight of us always in front of one place
Even though there were many rooms
We'd always come back to see this one
The Blue Sky Fall painting was here
The Artist was known to us
We'd commissioned the piece of the fellow
We'd seen his subject and knew the textures
We'd be happy the most in this room here
Looking at the painting it was neat to us
We loved it and when asked we'd just say
It's just our favorite piece in the whole place
And when we left and drove back home
We'd walk in the door of a place
The same place, just not the same as the one
But it was the same as the art on that other wall
As it was there which we lived
Just a bit older than the day he painted
Our home in the woods


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 342

Dear Readers,


Fog in the air


The window pane was fogged up as I looked out
Face close to it's surface watching you
Outside going off to a hair appointment
Then the pedicure later and that spa place
It was just another saturday but was also
The day of the time change of fall
Newly minted tea leaves poured in a cup
The spring water filled the tea kettle
The whistle waking the morning fog up
Kissing your lips as you arrive back
I hold out a thin piece of chocolate
That vaguely tastes of mint and tea
The sounds your sighs make as you eat
Thrill me a long way toward the evening
The day is not cold but not warm either
The heat of our fusion melts away the fog


Happy Birthday Babe,


Charles.

Poem for her 341

Dear Readers,


Walking into parking lots


Mostly we drive into them
But there was the diner lot
And that other lot in the mountains
But then the lot in places else
The ones on the side of the road
Even a parking lot that now is changed
Where though not a car place was a space
Walking beside you as we looked at plants
Walking beside you in a lot of places
Spaces to think about things and chat
Then the blending of thoughts
Verbal and not slid into souls
Falling round the skirt hem
Clothe table top splashed green
Walking to breakfast away from home
Doing the diner hop pancake stack
Singing in the shower while together
Thoughts to remember you in hand


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.