Poem for her 560

Dear Readers,


The jack of all trades


My dad was one of those
But she is one of those too
Saying that might be odd
That today she got Blades
And she is, nor is he named jack
Laughs at my own slight joke
But then slips my hand in the cookie jar
Sees the brown ceramic one of old
Gets the cookie out
Get back off the fridge top
Then the dream fades
Waking up
There is the slice of dream
And cookie crumbs
Or are those veggie straws
There on your finger tips
It was cold that night
You wanted the snack
Your car was new to me
There it was
There was the thoughts
Oh the taste of your lips
Veggie straw oil salt yours
Licks my lips thinking of you
Lays my fingers on your arm
Turn you slightly
Hands you the bag
And smiles
You have a new title

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.