Poem for her 423

Dear Readers,



Sleeping

The dawn breaks through the window frame
The sounds of the morning seep inside
The sheets move as I turn them down
Your shoulder bare and the chill slight
Warmed by the morning kiss there
The fire glow dim the coals just red
The sound of your sigh as you say
Kiss me again love, kiss me again
The sounds of lips and fingers light
The air filled with crushed mint leaves
The air filled with the sighs of dawn
Then as the day wakes a bit more
Fire flares


Happy Birthday Babe,


Charles.

Poem for her 422

Dear Readers,



Winter blues


Frost on the window panes
The sun dress on the closet rack
The desire to dress without coat
The look of muffled face
Your eyes just above the fluff
I want to hurry spring along
Get you back into T-shirt and skirts
Rub your arm with lotion
Then the park we'd go
Picnic over by the lake
Out in the summer sun
Shades on your eyes
Pleats in the skirt folded just so
The winter time hot chocolate
The winter time fire outside
The one inside ready but unlit
Hands you that hot mint tea
I just rub your sore calves
And the feet too
Hand you the warmed socks
Touch your lips with a kiss
Cuddle you close and tell you a poem


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 421

Dear Readers,


Vacations

Those taken with her in my arms
So that all else is forgot
The need to pack is light
The places we go bright
The days spent holding hands
Watching the clouds go by
Camera for photos of her
Video too of her as well
The shots of us in scrapbooks
Plenty of places to go
Nothing much to do
Picnic basket and us
Pillow too
The beaten path few
Over hills and dale
Now off to the seashore
Pastures many forest floors
Art house diners
Tea shops and cheese trays
The winery tours too
Over here, over there
The places many the time free
Ease of trips is the plan
Kiss her on the hand
Kiss her every time we stop
Cuddle long into the night


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 420

Dear Readers,



Her


Running my hand down your back to ease the day
The tensions fade as the skin melts to one
The sighs of the feeling of you there intoxicating
The sight of the glow of fire in your eyes
As you look at me when my hands touch the belt loops
My fingers incline to pull at them and you
You look a bit more intense than before
The feeling of my hands on you and the pull
The sighs we make at the knowledge of the desires
Nothing dulled by time or the many days since
Your first kiss in a parking lot of your hand
That first birthday call and the chat we had
The time I felt the smooth shoulder and kissed it
That day the first of many more laid out over years
The intoxicating touch of your hands in mine forever


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 419

Dear Readers,


Black dress


You stood there hair in your face looking at me
I was sitting down so my head was looking up
I wanted to tell you things but just looked
I had my hands on your hips and back and
I wanted to capture every breath you take
I felt the fabric of the black dress
But it wasn't a dress just was a long cami
In dreams the color changes and the places too
In the picture of that day your face soft
The cloth ribbed and in my hands and you
The photo plays long in my mind as I hear
The sighs you make when I softly whisper
I love you babe on the phone or on the bench
You stand there and you smile as you lean in
The long night just starting and the kiss
The kiss long and longer still I whisper


Happy Birthday Babe,


Charles.

Poem for her 418

Dear Readers,


Red and Gray


The colors that I picked when you asked
The 5 cards you had been working on almost done
The fifth and last making some headway
The morning was filled with me telling you
That dream I had of you and me
The morning filled with the hot coffee smell
The afternoon with the new manicure smiles
The hands together on the table glasses near
The smell of dinner still in the air
The plate we ate off of clean with napkin on top
The red still on but the gray gone
Those highlights in your hair shining in fire light
I wanted to hold you like the dream
So the dance started and the kissing too


Happy Birthday Babe,


Charles.

Poem for her 417

Dear Readers,



Soft Touch


Your hands there on the table holding mine
I look at your arm and see the freckles
I want to kiss two or three and then the rest
Over the course of a slow and long steady week
That spans the time we are sitting here
Slow the spinning of the second hand
The pace of the car game has stopped
The sound of your sighs holding me close
I want to slowly kiss every hair of your arm
Then I smile as you say, Go ahead Love
I draw your picture from memory as I write
The sound of lips pressing skin and breath
The sound of your sighs as I kiss softly
The day wears that soft after glow of touch


Happy Birthday Babe,


Charles.

Poem for her 416

Dear Readers,


Hot Toddy


The wine in your glass from the place out back
The vines we grew the year before and the grapes
The casks from the shop down the road
The yeast from that place you know
The wine our first try at grapes and fermentation
The big mug in your hand as I pour the Tea in
The shot of this or that to add the toddy bit
The evening spent at a long game of war
Where the cards go flip flip stack stack
The Hot Toddy sip sip and hey let's try this
The nights spent looking at the day's photos
The one where you are standing next to moss
Or the one you took of me in a stream
The days go back and forth as the cards go out
The nights slow and glowing as the fire wanes
The long snuggles and kisses taking our time
The night is always warm in your arms


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 415

Dear Readers,


Ankles


The time I asked that you scratch mine
Your nails long and soothing on my skin
That time I held yours close to me
Touching them one with each hand while at dinner
The days go by slowly when I can't hold yours
You are out of the cabin, maybe out of state
I want to rub yours and sooth their ache
The days are better when yours are wiggling
There on the cushions singing their joy
Lotion and care to combat dry winter skin
The days I can kiss your ankles a treat
Something about yours is rare I can not say why
I like to watch you walk and see them in socks
I even have a few pictures in the scrapbooks
Your ankles in my hands kissed slow right now


Happy Birthday Babe,


Charles.

Poem for her 414

Dear Readers,



The next minute


The dawn light isn't up yet but we are
Looking at the star studded sky
The night light we use red glowing your hands
The want to just stand there and kiss you full
The craving to give you a kiss Intense
As the night fades the moon shines bright
The dawn glow seeps into the forest
Birds have been chirping and awake
I pull you close and your lips meet mine
The tickling of the night before remembered
We sigh and giggle as we sink to the bench
The camera forgot, the coffee chilling in the dew
All we do is kiss the morning away


Happy Birthday Babe,


Charles.

Poem for her 413

Dear Readers,


The minute

You arrived home and I asked more coffee?
I hand you the big mug the one we found traveling
The spring weather was blah not cold
...but to hot for coats and
...much to wet for dry days
Forest floor moss getting fed the dampness
Your friend's birthday breakfast out in town
But diner coffee never enough so more now
The fire only lit at night the day warm
Planning seeds and garden lay out drawings
Wanting to get over the spring dulls
Dress you up in bright colors take your photos
Add to the scrapbook pages
Paint your nails with those new colors
Get the drawing boards ready for spring flowers
Plan some picnics for next week
Get the star charts ready for the dawn hours
See that blue moon again this month
Snuggle with you till we need to get up
Tickle you till you laugh


Happy Birthday Babe,


Charles.

Poem for her 412

Dear Readers,



Touch of mint


The Hot tea smells of the mint you like
The touch of your hands on my arm soft
The sigh you make when the door opens and I walk in
Bringing you Breakfast on a tray we both made
The touch of sound of your hand on my lips
As the music plays on the stereo low and soothing
The spring flowers brighten the room
Your feet dance at the edge of the scene
As you start to hum and sway to the beat
Soft dance steps hungry for the morning dew
The cool breezes move your hair and you glow
The skirt on your hips sings a swirl and tempo
The touch of you in my hands slowly speeding
The music picks up pace from you moving it
The touch of your hands on my arm intoxicating
The sighs we make as the dance goes on and on
The night speeds past and dawn shines in


Happy Birthday Babe,


Charles.

Poem for her 411

Dear Readers,


Calling for Information


Where is the Mei Fun place in this area
We want to get it and take out
We want to have some for the next day's breakfast
Where is the nearest winery in this area
We want to take a tour while we are in town
The list goes on and on for that number
The things we could ask, if we didn't already know
Wandering about on a long car trip to see things
Not sure which things we want to go see
We just like to go car tripping now and then
Down this way and that, over this hill and that one
The wandering days not always about getting there
Some days we just want to stay home snuggled in
Might still call for information write down in a note
Where the nice Mei Fun places are over there
Or where to find that great tea shop we want
Hands her the Plate full of breakfast


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 410

Dear Readers,


Popcorn


Out in the forest the cabin sat
The sound of laughter heard in the night
The fire place had a smell of pine and apple
The air inside had that fresh butter smell
Popcorn too was in the air
The fireplace makes for a cool place
To fire up the old fashioned fare
Pop Pop Pop Pop and then the sneeze
One of us will do that I am sure
The fresh hot smell tickling our nose
Hands you a mug of hot drink
Whichever one it was that night
The popcorn slowly eaten
We'd grown this batch ourselves
Over there in the garden covered in snow


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 409

Dear Readers,



Scrapbook Readings


Some long nights ago we sat at a table
Looking through the ages of our scrapbooks
You had drawings you wanted to see again
I asked you to pick some numbers
The Poems that had numbers got read
Then dates of ones not listed number wise
We could go weeks of looking and not repeat
Days are always filled with things
From seed packs to shirt picks to which color
To paint the new art project with
You have lists of colors you like
And soft smells to turn to lotions
The flowers in the garden clothe the table
Drawings made and photos taken
Hands on mossy tree limbs and at times your face
I catch you off guard and get your smile in a photo
All in all the night wanes on ending with a touch
Long into the warmth of snuggles my hands on you
Sleep peacefully long and warm till dawn


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 408

Dear Readers,


Hot as coffee


The cup was fresh and on the night stand
Your hand slipped out from under the covers
The room was a bit chilled, the fire embers
I had let it go to long without fresh logs
I was just adding a few choice ones to heat
So the room is still chilly and the coffee hot
The electric blanket was on low all night
And your skin is always a bit warmer at night
So I was reluctant to get up much in the night
But coffee is better fresh and you like it so
I plant a kiss on your forehead and nose
Then I linger to taste coffee on your lips
My skin is cool so I don't want to chill you
I check the switches on the floor heater coils
Tend to the fire to get the embers hot again
The floor heater coils run under the fireplace
And out around the floor to give us warm toes
I look over at you and think of things Hot
Coffee, Fireplace, Stove, Blanket and
You dear flaming as I look at you smile at me


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 407

Dear Readers,


The black tank top


The mirror in the bathroom still steamy
The chill outside such that once showered
We were not going out till we had to
The firewood stacked inside high enough
To keep the chill out most of the week
Snow we didn't shovel except for the steps
You asked what color, which strap kind
I said Black, Tank top, you smiled
As I pulled at it's hem at the bottom
The smile in the mirror shined back at me
The morning was just getting started
What art project would we do today
What would we cook for breakfast
Coffee Hot steamy in Our cup on the counter
Had to be warmed up later again
And the black tank top put on again


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 406

Dear Readers,


The hunger


To touch your skin and feel your sighs
To taste that new lip balm you just got
To touch you after you get home that first second
To film you walking toward me before the line above
To see you smile as you see the card on the table
The hunger of the day you say ......
...Hi there Charles
...Hey let's go to the beach
...Good morning love
...XOXO
Those days are many since the first of each
The hunger is still there never abated
Always heated and fueled by my heart beat
The need to have you in my hands even when not
Lingers at the edge of my days
I can be in the other room and slip my thoughts
Close to your skin the sweet nothings sighing
As they touch you from the flight to you
Hot and with light touch saying
I love you as they touch your skin

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 405

Dear Readers,


Hearing your voice


The slow ache to listen to you again
The distant travel and no phone to be had
To go a week without seeing your smile
The days long and cold only held a chill
The videos holding me in a sane bit
The need to have heard you yesterday
The voice of you driving toward me
Closer and closer the soft voice there
Phone call more than a phone call
Wanting your voice to touch my cheek
Wanting my fingers in yours lost in us
Wanting your skin warm near me soon
The first hearing of your voice
So close now, a new sunshine splash
Knowing the feelings here stated mutual
Knowing our longing is intense
Knowing the love heated soon
Melting the phone call


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 404

Dear Readers,


Whoa the answers are that a 404 error arrived and you can't see the website, But that is so strange you were there just 20 minutes ago, what happened. Those pesky bullfrogs ate the pizza. The slices of time that My poems to her are sliced out of Heaven and bits of earth and forest floor and the sheet music I called God's post it notes, are always being dripped on the heads of pins and penned in on a page like this one. To many thoughts going on in my head and she is cold at the time of this writing, but when she reads these lines I hope she'll be a bit warmer, Where she is right this second is relative to the place she is right now ( now being the time of my writing and the time of your reading both at the same time ) her outside the house is 14 degree F, hard freeze state. Licks lips and gets out the thought threads.


The Neck of the Woods


The cloak was full of Red and Black
The cloak fell to the floor and sighed
The cloak was warm and not dismayed
The neck was finally warm and a bit wet
The tongue was still talking but just slow
Slowly the words were formed on the surface
The skin was wet again and the neck sighed
The sound of the sigh low and mewing
The cloak was happy it landed next to pillow
On pillow was her head and mine and sighs
The cloak was draped about our forms
We were finally HOME and not as cold now
On the floor next to the fireplace
That was a pile of red hot embers from earlier
The night outside was very cold
But inside we were warm and comfy
The sounds of her saying something
The sounds of me saying something
Then the sounds of mewing again and again


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 403

Dear Readers,



The Face

In the mirror that day at Mom's I said Love your shirt
That I kissed in that video we like to play again
You see when out on the road and look to see your glasses
That I hold at night to look at the shape of you
Always brand spanking new just like when the door passed
Whose lips I tenderly touch with lip balm on finger
Whose lips I then kiss to settle in the taste of
Whose shape I know so well and ask you to draw on notes
Whose cheeks I touch and sooth with soft kisses of time
Whose forehead I kiss good morning to and good night
That I touch with tender fingers and wish the whole you


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 402

Dear Readers,


Hot Coffee


The greenhouse had a bit of steam in it
The plants had been grown there a long time
The odd things that grew there made visitors wonder
Who were this couple that grew the garden
The coffee plants over here in this section
Through a partition there is the odd tree
The sign saying it is chocolate's plant parent
Orchids over here and other vines over there
The bench where is a small guide map handy
Then the butterflies all about in soft clouds
The garden enclosed and the chill of winter out
The visitors would sometimes see a couple
Standing by a large tree and talking
Their hands always mingling together
The smell of hot coffee would be in the air


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 401

Dear Readers,



Butterfly kisses


The soft sound of your fingers on my belly
Heard as I pause talking on the video
The butterfly kisses of your lips up close
Seen as the camera blinks it's shutter
Days go by and then weeks as I touch you
The feeling of your skin under fingers
The long touch on your arms as you sit there
I stare at you and try not to miss a breath
The time it takes for one kiss to travel
From thoughts of lips to pulling away
The years that span in the space we are
The soft sighs you make as you drift to sleep
The endless time I'd sooth your edges
Touching your skin with butterfly kisses


Happy Birthday Babe,


Charles.

Poem for her 400

Dear Readers,


The Walk


The day was kinda like any other
But the track was full of leaves
The trees weren't shedding these
The leaves were last year's
Or maybe even several years ago
The forest floor you could never tell
You were telling me about a call
We had once had long ago
Where we had spent 3:33:59 hours talking
The reason you remember it so
Is that I was the one keeping track
You were making food and I was the timer
The other reason was that I had said
Three tree toads with two toes were treed
In a long tongue twisted poem thought
And I could write it but hardly say it
Without laughing at one point
Well now our walk has ended and here
The thoughts have turned to you again
The next color we are going to paint
On the big mural on the wall
Of that new space that used to be blue


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 399

Dear Readers,


Riding


I love that you drive babe
It allows me to hear what you say
Better that I stand or sit to your right
That ear problem I have

The cars we have driven
Always just a get up and go
To get places not the goal
Just the driving there to have gone

The days where you get that urge
To drive and just go
Grab the picnic basket toss in things
Then off to the pacing of the driving

I like to be the map reader
The pointer out of things
Though you know places you like
I look for picnic tables to dine at

The days grow wet and we stop
The rain turns to sleet
The car stays put
We go and cuddle up and kiss the day away



Happy Birthday Babe,


Charles.

Poem for her 398

Dear Readers,


The night


The sky dark and a few cloud hide the Moon
Your fingers lace into mine and pull be on
The porch swing rocks as we move off it
The fire is lite in our bedroom warm
The lights down low as we know where to step
The bed turned back and sheets cool
The night is just now long and dim
Another year has passed the turning
The spring season growing south to north
My voice soothing you and me to sleep
The touch of our hands together deep
Cuddling close you tell me the day's events
Whispers of the sheets and pillows move
Touching your back as we lay there
The sounds of our breathing lull us
The sounds of the fire logs crisp in the night


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 397

Dear Readers,


The Year


The prism colors play over your face
The sunshine of the morning shining through
The day is like others filling my senses with you
It has been a year since I starter the project
To write you poems for your birthday
The time has been spent slowing touching you
Thoughts of green, Thoughts of grey and pillow
The soft touch of your hands in mine as we sit
The feel of your feet on my lips
The days long and short and never enough
The rainbow bright reds now on your cheek
The greens and blues touching the wall
The need to reach out and touch your face
There is the level of my need to tell you
The morning prism light will be back again
In the evening as we eat dinner to shine on you
The camera getting another picture of you
To soft glow of your eyes and smile on your lips


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 396

Dear Readers,


House Tours


The stately manors of those long streets
Toured on weekends in the spring you love to see
We go to different cities on our travels
Those areas where the houses meet our fancy
The picnics many in parks far and wide
The cabin in the woods stopped at between tours
The city house visited when down south
The days long in the summer months spent in cool
The cold winters less touring up north more south
Camera in tow, shots of this and that
Shots of your hands on moss covered rock
New nail polish always gets a picture in the scrapbook
The trips slow and easy we like to be comfy
Hand in hand walking the sidewalks through time
Kissing in gardens under the roses and by the flowers
Comfy in sweet array of porch swings many


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 395

Dear Readers,



Tea for You


The hot tea and the light snack was for after
The thing you were doing was killing a monster
The game was one we both played but today just you
The tea and snack was for you after the duel
The monster was hard to vanquish but they fell
The hands still shaking from the intensity
I fed the snack to you and smiled
You got the tea and sipped and smiled
The day was a special one, a goal made, hard fought
The days ahead a bit easier, though not all
The tea and snack a restive bit handy for you
Got to keep my warrior lady cared for
You are going for a goal and it is a long one
By your side and handy with a glass of wine to relax
I'll be here always handing you the paint brush
For the next art project we do in the garden


Happy Birthday Babe,


Charles.

Poem for her 394

Dear Readers,


Long walks,


Old slow legs can be a pain so walk they say
Young slow legs can tire and say pick me up
The days when we were younger we said
Let us walk till dawn the night long trek
As we got older we thought Only till we tire
But as we walk longer now than once before
We are at the middle ground of our stages
So let us walk till a good shaded porch
Knock on the door and ask may we sit on your swing
The morning house tour was to last till evening
So as the day wore on and only a few more to go
The porch swings looked inviting
Holding your hand and swinging back and forth
Our 80 year old legs enjoyed the rest
I know babe, a long time off yet but soon
The spring house visiting season starts
So many things to see, The garden shows too
Or a long cuddle on our couch and bed
Snoozing the day away so we can catch our dreams


Happy Birthday Babe,


Charles.

Poem for her 393

Dear Readers,


Color on a brush


The Paint chip in your hand was faded
The days long ago when the event happened
The new color for that room you had done
In a fresh paint all your own brushed slow
The days we'd talked about it many
The days since than many still more
Today that faded paint chip color still handy
You and I on a new project want to paint
The newest room at the cabin in the woods yard
A spring area with uses but outside the main
Over here by the spring house where water flows
Slowly by in a small creek we stoned in
I little art project room for summer and fall
The fire pit in the center only used in winter
Covered with a table top in the other months
The walls still freshly primed but waiting
For you to pick the final color you want
We have our painting togs on and brushes ready


Happy Birthday Babe,


Charles.

Poem for her 392

Dear Readers,


Snow bunny


The snow was fading fast
At the edge of the garden was a bunny
She was decked out with woolen mitts
Then at her feet was the snow bunny too
It was a showy snow creation
The moving bunny was giggling
As she added the ears the bunny complete
The video was still running
When there was a muffled kiss off camera
The sounds of whispering barely heard
The giggling still and the camera wiggle
The sound of my voice saying


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.