Poem for her 603

Dear Readers,



Poem for you number 98 thousand twelve


Written as it was on a napkin in that diner
Out west in that town we haven't been to yet
You were singing a song that we heard on the radio
The words you knew, the tune I could hum
You then asked for a cup of tea and the thermos
Oh My it was empty
So out of our snug thoughts we found the diner
The small roads and byways the sights galore
There was the diner on the side of this town
There was the paper napkin and the poem
The scrapbook has the title in it
There are photos from the camera
And a little note the waitress wrote on the ticket
Seems she liked the conversation
And she liked the flowers in your hair
Picked from the verge in the parking lot
There on the road to the west coast
Traveling we were doing
To a picnic on the beach
At sunset
One night


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.