Poem for her 391

Dear Readers,


Festive winter snows


It is cold and we are cuddled near warmth
Having just had those bits of picnic inside
The wine still at the bottom of the glasses
The crackers put away but still on the table
The air cheerful but the warmth close by
Almost within reach to the place we sit is snow
On the other side of a wall though
The snow there the first heavy blanket of the year
Almost gone that year, sliding toward a new one
The fireworks many around the globe ticking by
The fire of your eyes near me the heat of my time
Softly I mention snow angels knowing
That later in the new year a few will happen
Now the warm cuddles are the slow glow of evening
The long winter snows to watch fall
Sleep in each other's arms and share kisses


Happy Birthday Babe,


Charles.

Poem for her 390

Dear Readers,


Cookies


I like to eat them, but have a blood sugar issue
You like to make them so I watch a lot
Then I take your recipe and make them slightly different
I like them a bit more than I should
I like helping you bake
I like watching you move about the kitchen
I like making sure the cook is kissed often
I want to encourage you to cook more
Well you can see why
We have designed the cabin kitchen to work well
The room is there and the counter space too
The soft touches as we pass
The kiss as the day grows long
The cookies I was craving
Forgotten on the counter
Days spent with You always soft and glowing
The kitchen empty and the fire place warm
The long cuddles filling our time

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 389

Dear Readers,



Breakfast


In bed, at the table, on a trip, at our place
That meal eaten any time we want it
That meal filled with things not just eggs
But with slices of bacon or not
She likes hers crispy I like them better with her
Though I might eat them less crunchy
I do find them tasty any way they are
The meal is our go to event meal
We have several favorites, and create new ones
You reading this now babe, have meals dancing
In your head and might be planning a new one
Just minutes ago you handed me bacon, Yay me.
Eggs into a grilled cheese suddenly a new item
The noodles and toast a shared plate often
The days start with a kiss and end with a cuddle
The days fun filled and meals of breakfast many
Bacon on tomato on romaine on mayo on plate
Things new and things old but always shared

Happy Birthday Babe,


Charles.

Poem for her 388

Dear Readers,



The graph paper


The pages lay out on the table
You had been working at them for days
Over the months they seemed to take shape
Plans and details our ideas talked about
Drawing on our dreams and abilities
The thoughts we shared about how tables are made
The small details and the over all
The days were long or they were short
The hours coupled with picnics
Art house tours, gardening and other things
The thoughts once just dreams solid now
The money from the butter and eggs
Piled in a holding account swiss bank
The idea of where the gardens could go
The plat sheet of the land and things
The ideas that we slept on
Then cuddled the night talking about
Kissing and then warming the night to dreams


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 387

Dear Readers,


The fire


The Oven outside was a rock and fire brick affair
The Fireplaces in the cabin about the same
The Fire in your eyes was always there
In slumber you body heats up and I am warmed
In summer the fan over head cools us at night
The days have chills but the nights fire
The trips of the season put us on the road
While driving we take turns stopping often
Little country diners alone the way no fast food
Parks too for picnics when not so cold
The nights longer still as the fire kindles
Slumber sweet with you near dreams soft touches
And when I wake The Fire in your eyes


Happy Birthday Babe,


Charles.

Poem for her 386

Dear Readers,



Cuddles


The first time I saw your hands
They were shaking but not with cold
The first time I kissed your lips
They tasted of that caramel flavor
The first time we sat beside each other
The space between us was squeezed tight as could be
The first touch of our hands
That day is intensely remembered
The first time I cuddled you
Awesome
You say my hands touching you
Is like Heaven
I say touching you
Is like Heaven


Happy Birthday Babe,


Charles.

Poem for her 385

Dear Readers,



Voicemail


The phone rang and then you got me
The old me of ages ago saying those lines
About who I was and seeing you on the flip side
That Record of long ago about a record rift
The records in the cabinets in the city house
The sound of my voice in your ear
The soft sound of a whimper I slipped
As I couldn't get the phone in time
Yet Joy that a voicemail was left
The camera has your voice on it when I am away
The recorded voice of you whispering or talking
The waves of your hands for me to stop filming
The voice of your whisper on voice mail soon to pass
But the whisper of your voice that sweet sweet sound
The sound I can't seem to get enough of even now
These many eons since I met you
The sound of your voice so tender
The sound of your voice always sweet to my ear
The need to hear it over and over always near
Soft slumber as you fade to sleep whispers here


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 384

Dear Readers,


The Card



The mail came and you opened the box
In there were several envelopes
Three of them looked like they might hold cards
Three of them did hold cards
All of them were to you
Hand drawn
Hand sewn
Hand etched
The style was slightly different on each
They held sway as they could
They meant something with each look
They were like others You'd gotten
Over the years
The card for me was always sealed with your touch


Happy Birthday Babe,


Charles.

Poem for her 383

Dear Readers,



Winter Rain


The weather was not yet snow
The cold was there and You liked the sweater
The color was that wine and cream
The material was not harsh to fingers
The skin under it was covered in a camisole
The hair was just so on the collar
The weather outside was rainy
But I had that big summer shade parasol
The one that we thought would cover a car
So when we went out You'd have cover and I too
The winter rain was pretty dense
The porch swing out back soaked
But we were going to an art gallery
So it'd be dry inside and the light lunch
Then the trip down memory Lane
Then back to the house for time relaxing
The winter rains forgotten outside
The hot mint tea and bit of buttered grahams
And long night of cuddles and cards
The dense rain forgotten in a long cuddling


Happy Birthday Babe,


Charles.

Poem for her 382

Dear Readers,



Slumber at a Touch


Those winter days when sleep is the order of the day
But when things have to be done, places to go many
The next chance you get to rest is just laying down
The soft touch of my hand on your shoulder as you walk in
The relaxation so near You steer toward the bed
The hot Tea almost forgotten and the supper too
The soft touch of my hand on your back peaceful
The feel of your skin under my fingers steady
The skin soft and light warm and cool as the wind blows
The fan overhead making the day slowly cooler
The yawns are many and then the breathing slows
The slumber at my touch is sweet and you move closer
The night darkens as lights are dimmed and you doze
I warm you with a sheet and then settle in
Long night of slow touching you as you sleep


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 381

Dear Readers,



More Birthdays


A year ago a butterfly walked in the commodities Exchange
You were there as you had always done and was shy
You still are shy and don't like the camera eye on you
But you have drawn in a blue book, scraps of verse and art
The thoughts you think when You call me at night Music
The piano of your mind sings and hums to me often
The Lord works in mysterious ways it is not said enough
As the other poem said you'd be heard again and say things
Then off to dreaming I went and the dreams of youth and time
Many a places were visited, places real and not, people many
The wonderful sunshine of dawn was your voice in my ear
The love you impart to me a sweet forever and always
Kisses and hugs laid out as lines of electrons and touch
The days wear on and the year is about to end yet again
But this time I travel not, yet you do still travel
The year will slip by but You and I remain together
The smile your face has on it as the camera clicks is grand
The note in the book says you won a card game and <3 <3 <3
The song just listened to draws to a close but you sing on
The soft music of your skin under my hands and lips
Goes on and on into the daylight that turns round and round


Happy Birthday Babe,


Charles.

Poem for her 380

Dear Readers,


Happy Birthdays


The clock read 25 mins and 51 seconds
The phone call had lasted that long
The call was started just before my local birthday minute
The call wasn't on that date but it was Her
The call was our good night visit while she was away
Those are the longest nights
The ones where her sounds are missed
The ones where the hands melting into each other
The long soothing moments when hand on shoulder
Hand on soft skin sooth to slumber and sleep
The nights when the hot mint tea is in two cups
Happy birthdays are at every passed through doorway
The Brand spanking Newness of self awareness
The mirrors only showing fresh smiles
Touch my ear with your voice Babe I say softly
She says things to me and I to her
I love you babe, see you soon
Dawn and the first next time I hear you sooner now


Happy Birthday Babe,


Charles.

Poem for her 379

Dear Readers,



Blown Kiss


There you are in the car blowing me a kiss
There you are in a photo in the scrapbook
There you are at the table in the park
There you are setting up the lights on a tree
Turning to see me, blowing me a kiss
The lips soft and then the out going breath
The sigh heard when up close soft and deep
I hold your hand and pull you near
I twine a finger in your belt loop
The window framed the snow outside cool
The coat you have on one we got that summer
The card with kiss sealed flap on the shelf
The blue note book opened to a page with ink pen
The drawing youv'e made still fresh and damp ink
The kiss drawn and the hand just so and I smile


Happy Birthday Babe,


Charles.

Poem for her 378

Dear Readers,



Soft


Soothing music plays in the air, sounds of leaves
Water hot and a bit steamy with quick flow hits you
The shower is long and relaxing running off your shoulders
The towel soft and large fluffy and drying warm
The air flow dries the dampness away but does not chill
The hair drier's sound is muted and not harsh but warm
The smell of chocolate and mint is in the air too
Soft slightly scented lotion warm in my hands
Your shoulders first, but head to toe the flow goes
Time isn't tracked, the spa is ours the gift daily
Or on the second hour after the moon rises over the trees
Muscles might be sore from events of the day, or not
The slow care taking a steady thing loving you
Hands touching you till your sleep sounds mild
Soft days in a busy world soft hours in a long day


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her377

Dear Readers,


Butterfly wings


You were wearing them when I first saw you
Glowing there on the floor of that place
Today with the stack of boxes held tall
You told me what you were going to do
But as it happened I laughed and smiled
I told you what it reminded me of and smiled
Your voice soft in my ear your smile sweet
The sound you make when you sigh and laugh
The wings of the butterfly softly drawn
The colors of your fingernails sparkle
I kiss your hand and ask for a dance
The dew fresh and cool and you giggle
The days longer than the clock hands
Only bird calls and wind sounds heard
I kiss your lips and the world melts away
You kiss my lips and the days vanish

Happy birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 376

Dear Readers,


Sun Glow


The sun shines through the glass prisms in the cabin
The city house has them too, inside and out
The sun glow broken to the bands of color
Like the colors of paint in our art sets
Parchment paper and cameras handy to record
The glow of colors spread cross your white shirt
The art work of you sitting with graham cracker
The butter soft glowing colors as you move it
In and out of the rainbow streams from the prisms
The soft glow of your smile in the photos
The taste of butter on your lips as I kiss you
The taste of a sweet wine on your hand as I kiss it
The taste of your lips in the sun glow
I want to capture each day in the sparkles of your eyes
We try and kiss the hours long into the night
We go through the day in a slight romantic poem
When I hold your feet and kiss your toes you giggle
The girl of youth fresh in your face as the days flow
The boy of green moss and the leaves enjoying your kiss
Though our ages older our days filled with wonder
Children playing in the sun glow of the windows
Kissing in the heat of the fires within


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 375

Dear Readers,



Sleeping

You like to sleep on my shoulder
The sound of your breathing sweet in my ear
I can't tell you why your feet are so nice
It is something only you have that I need
The sound of your sigh fills my day
You and I hold hands and they melt together
The feel of your skin like mine
Only just there at my finger tips
The sound of you sleeping lulls me to sleep
I find peace in your being in the world near
When your face turns to me and you look
Toward me the camera catches your expression
The turn of cheek and stance of gaze
You look at me with something words lack to say
The feelings close and filled with meaning
The soft dreamy looks are slow embers glowing
The night grows shorter even as you sleep
The dawn peeks of the window edge and you smile
Good Morning on your mind and kisses on your lips


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 374

Dear Readers,


The Picture,


You sitting there looking at the deck of cards
The picture in front of you is of you
The coat was an old coat but you got it in town
Once the store had opened the clerk we knew smiled
Showed you this winter coat and you just had to
But of course I knew you would like it
You'd seen it in a catalog then talked about it
The coat was a special one that was all you
The color you liked, and the style was just so
The picture was of you in it fresh the first time
Your eyes glint as you see the picture again
You have been at this table a long time
You helped make the table too and the cards
They were another of the decks we liked
The game one of our favorites but the picture glowed
In the sunlight and with the new pair of glasses
The world looked fresh this spring day
Time hadn't faded the smile on your face
Nor the smile of the long ago day of first wearing
The hands holding each other were still
Branding spanking new as we both walked through a door


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 373

Dear Readers,



Picture


You sitting there with a smile on your face
The setting though changes day to day
Things move about in the edges of the frame
Never the whole scene seen as the object is you
The face always smiling knowing your photo is taken
The scene in my mind's eye told to you changes
Black coat parking lot, white coat elevator
The red striped shirt is a favorite of mine
The scene can be here or there but you are my focus
Your face in mind hands as you turn to me
Your smile shining a glow held deep eyes glittering
I could tell you what I see when I look at you
But I can only scratch the surface with words
Feelings bubble up when I see you even in a picture
When your voice slides toward me too I am in awe
You have a shine in my heart set about full boil
Every turn through doorway Brand spanking new

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 372

Dear Readers,


Snow flakes


The bowl had a pile of frosted mini wheats
The snow outside by the front porch looked the same
The frost and flakes and the cold only out there
In here The bowl sat on a table You helped make
The bag of cereal gotten from a miles away shop
In a town down from our mountain top cabin
Over the years the raisins in our vineyard covered
With several kinds of chocolate creations
You favor a few and those we make more of
Eggs softly piled on the toast of bread we made
The frosted mini pillows with snow stuff on top
Almost ready for a hot cup of coffee
Some friends down the way grow coffee in a greenhouse
You and I helped them set up so as to have
Hot brew with the breakfasts of the winter like now
Later when the snow gets deeper a snow man to make
Or just look out at the fresh untouched white blanket
Softly snuggle up near the fire and muse on poems

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 371

Dear Readers,


The weekend


The days of the week in a cabin in the woods blend
When we live in the city house the days trend differently
The sky is almost the same but the sounds aren't
In the city is traffic noises and cars
In the cabin the sound of wind and birds
Hardly any planes over head but those high up
Lonely road and peaceful days blend til known not when
The weekend has a place in the city house easy to tell
The sounds of cars slow and the mowers start
The cabin in the woods no mowers are heard but ours
Not that we love to mow a lot but some grass gets cropped
The weekend long in both places though longer in the woods
The fire in the fireplace get stoked daily and chill gone
The stars at night better and brighter and we like silence
The weekend is slowly come back our way again
You will snuggle long on my shoulder on the porch swing
Be it at the cabin or the city house
You'll snuggle in close and my hands over skin slow
You'll drift off to sleep and I'll repeat

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 370

Dear Readers,


I don't Know

Was what you said when asked about supper
So the quest began, food for thought
Was what you said when I wondered at a title
Though I did label this that, It is with a smile
That you and I have a little bit of fun with paints
Those ones on your toes, the bright blues on a cape
The I don't know is a good starting place for pondering
About things like Trees to plant in the back
About things to get for the new porch swing pillows
About the color of the t-shirt you'll wear today
About little things like the moss species that like cacti
But while we don't know some things others are firm
The pitch of the roof of the outdoor Kitchen
The color of the bed sheets in June
The color of your hair when I brush it slow
The smile on your face as I take your picture
I know that you'll be a year into poems soon
That today is a month away from the start
That I knew I'd write a few, this many is cool
The winter chill flows in the door
As you with layered socks snuggle close to me
We sigh and drink the hot tea brewed and kiss another

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 369

Dear Readers,



The comfy places


The bed where your feet touched the floor
The couch I had helped design and was sat in
The porch swings on several porches
The pile of other pillows plus Pillow
The huge pile of leaves in the back yard
That big chair love seat we saw in a mall
The warm sheep skin where you snuggled
The sun dappled park bench by the pond
The Library where we first met to read
The coffee shop we buy our coffee at
Anywhere you and me are for any length of time
Sliding hands together and feeling warm
Lots of place around the world you and me


Happy Birthday Babe,

Yay you maxxed too

Charles.

Poem for her 368

Dear Readers,


Mondays

There was this story of snow when you were born
There was the story of first snow in years when I was born
It was said you were born on a Monday
Well lo and behold just yesterday I see so was I
And here it is a Monday
When my hands slid down your shoulder just minutes ago
You were cooking at the stove and talking to me
Saying things only we share with each other
Like what to buy at the grocery store next
Or what color the table clothe needs to be
Next when you pull out the burgundy turtle neck
The Noxious gear that you don't have yet
Laid out in the array before you on cards
The cards fluttering to the ground picking 4 of 43
Things to do the next time I see you wearing black
Things to do on the Mondays going forward
I'd tell you we could always do them again
On the Tuesday or the Friday or those other days
Then I'd also like to write you that non-public poem
The one sitting in email as I type and as I say

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 367

Dear Readers,


Meow,


The large cat moved onto the bed
You had been calling him for a while
Seems he was over by the window looking out
Mew Mew meeew He said as his head hit your left hand
Mew purrrr purrrr as you rubbed his ear
He settled down for a long petting
Curling bed sheets in the kneading pull
Claws out claws in, the kneading pull
Mews settles low and the claws
They were on your hip and upper leg
You were playing a game he did not watch
Content to lay next to you and purr
Then as the night wore on you got tired
And the game was set aside and he lay
About where he was when this started
You turned the other light off
And said Night night love
And the large cat said

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 366

Dear Readers,



Tonight, Tonight, Tonight


Oh oh oh Tonight tonight tonight the line was red
The string was that same color the thread of red
You looked at me and smiled your turned the box over
Then you waved your hand as to show the reader the box
The Threads in the shoulders were red X's and I saw them
Only on the first video on that day in May and you there
In my van and me flashing a smile but only you could see
As you were the object of the camera eye not me
Voice over was saying that the card game was about done
The recording I think I have heard only once after happened
The voice over is you and me and the slices of the timer
The Brand Spanking new today as You want to get there
But walk through the doorway as you turn to say Hi
There are others in the room with you but they don't change
You though do, You become brand spanking new again and..
You stop aging the way they are aging you babe are HOME
You have stopped that drifting of time forward flipping
You are of this line typing only 3 levels away from woohoo
Wow Girl you be the Boss, Kill the Boss they scream and you smile
The things that you and I know aren't limited to the worlds
We see in the here and now and you and me babe
We be slipping slipping into the future but we be not yet too
We be slicing the Universes at the End of the University
Or was that line supposed to be a flipped anagram of itself
The world wide web was not the end all be all that we see
The FTP sites were not the end all be all and then COBOL
Was not the first of many but just a slice of the forward
The Minds of Winds and slicing of poems early on in here
My mental stable full of night Mares and Horses of Houses
The books to read that I only saw the covers of
The vast million book Libraries and the Bathrooms they had
The slipping slipping into you bed and cuddle long night
Your soft skin young and touching in my hand forever and always
The slices of graham and buttered english muffin and egg and green
The things you have eaten only because you know me
The knowledge that you are Soul of my Soul and the ditto back


Happy Birthday Babe,


Charles.