Poem for her 658

Dear Readers,


Flights of fancy


The night driver
Thought that nights drove well
The thought was
Cool air
Long night
The spring shot through with stars
The call
Babe on phone
Then she said should I go
I was out of the house
She thought some waking dream
Was so tired
Was worried still
Gone from the nest the bird was
But night bird wanted to touch
Back all night in sleep
Traveled over hill and down the other side
Just a hop out of the ridge line
Just a travel
Then the edge of sleep
Right to her door
Hello babe
I am home with you
Hugs the pillow tightly
Soft fur lightly
Sock drawer tender
Butterflies sing

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 657

Dear Readers,


That sigh

The morning was rushed
Several things to do
List as long as her arm
Go in early
Fight the light traffic
Oh hey you go on that light is green
Then the stairs
Up ten times down 9
There is lag time in there
Oh and the closet that has it's own closet
Never mind the other things
Busy
Busy times oh he said eat lite
The txt
The ditto
The soul of my soul
After the rushed morning call
The Ditto dash dot tag line too a kiss
The longer poem than I thought
I want him to know
And his laughter and joy
Wow
He did sleep a lot
Yes babe I tried to get up to eat
But eyes kept shutting
I told dad good night
And it is my hour
But have the tomatoes dad grew
In this veggie brew of summer zuccs
In my big mug and a fork to eat it by
But I hungered to say to you
In the morning hours the moving up the digits
The flowing down the stairs
I love the day
I met you though unknown
I am as healthy a race horse as I am
Because you are ditto dot dash
Soul we share
God's plans are detailed
I Slice a sliver off
and hand you the first taste
Soul of my Soul

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 656

Dear Readers,


I see you

She typed to me
I saw her
Typed to her, hey babe I c u 2
There is this slight magic
Happens all the time
I see the flip of the flip
The eye hand reaction
Of some one who juggles Knives
I haven't done it in a while
Used to hear my mom saying
What are You doing
As I had the Good steak Knives out
These were a great steak knife
The blade cutting edge
A fine teeth the wood handles
Balanced so that at the metal wood edge
They sat still as a cross beam
That cross
You have to take it up
Lift it high
And take on the burden
Then Jesus told them
My word dudes, do you still not get tweeter?
Smiles happy face
The message of the Lord is full of jokes
Funny stories that Jesus told them
As he taught them over 3 years of
Walking to and fro, boating fishing
Walk walk talk talk no cell gps no need
His Story His power His fun loving care free
Enjoy to be with you folks
Knowing it'd be really really hard
There at that ending flipping the stone over
Seeing you on the flip side
Of forever and ever after and there is
That bump in the road
They talk about it
I don't fear it
I don't fear anything much anymore
I have connection with
Single soul's flip side click Fit
Hi there I see you in bed
Soft sounds musings and things we talked about
Flash card memory into my head
And By the way
Dad and me going to hack some song
Off the internet
He is an Audiophile and I am um
But this is so darn cool
There is no way it can't be legal
Or they just clue less
Whisper whisper that is a fine dog you got
Those piles of clues so sweet
That billion gp stack of useless shells I have
He ha me being smarty pants
No I only wear shorts, Not even sure
Where my pants I used to wear are
Laughs, Yes I do
Aunt Sis made them into shorts
Told I only wear shorts
The laughter this day was like
A

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles,


Poems are things that form out of other things for other people, for me and her they flow from the well of knowledge that she and I share from the day a butterfly was born for my 12 days of have happy fun time when I was under 5 years old, We have a Photo to prove this. lol secret notes hidden in all my posts since I met her.


May you have the PEACE that passes all understanding from Jesus Christ The Lord.

Poem for her 654

Dear Readers,


Dear Soul

Our hands together
The mirror shows you and Gold stripes
The blonde eye lashes darkened
With each careful stroke
The video rings with laughter
Yours
I am oddly voiced
Phone held past door frame
I am naked
You are getting ready
I could go too
But I am filming
Angle to get you both
Front and back
As I say with words not these
Mentally I was stuttering
Your kiss
Off camera
But sweet lips sounding
I love to kiss you
Ankles
Toes
Sole of foot
Fresh washed or not
I share with you
This Soul of ours
Matched with a delicate touch
Sweet nothings in your sock drawer
Sent second by second
Not from my hand
They come here
From heaven
Pass me and I say
To her fly
They already knew the way
Touch of the butter fly wings
Though this week it's still a blue tail
The paintings via text
Aw sweet
The flowers here
Dew damp
Almost a flood
But skies clear
The moon was high all night
Once or twice off Harvest
I could see the missing edges
I wanted the dawn
Sighting the moon
Take account of the eastern ridge
Said Sunrise two hours
Then back to videos
And tweets and sweets and You
Thoughts held in phone
Data held fast
Memory sliced
The morning is here
Off to work or where ever
There we are
At Home

Happy Birthday Babe

Charles.

Poem for her 653

Dear Readers,



Video at 2 degrees


The angle of the video was daunting
The lights hard to deal with
I wanted only her face in the frame
The focus and zoom hardly good enough
Just an old camera phone
Those were the days

Then the topic was heard on audio
Shhh she said once
So we changed focus
The end of the video awesome
I could now sleep
Oh hey what time is it

Two 52 the clock read on the phone
The laptop blinked in another time zone
Millions of miles away
Two 52
I went to bed
Then I lay there
Composing stories

The night was late
The morning not yet there
Wee hours they claim
I was in one read a zero hour
Not a 1 of a kind am child
But those numbers
They ring around the Shhh sound

There is her voice a while back
Listened to her voicemail she has
I know her she'd have done it twice
By the time she reads these lines
Yet still fresh
The sound of her voice

These 90 years later
The days are still as short
Or as long depending
On where the flowers bloom
They also bloom
Right there at the table
By the plate
Breakfast is ready Love

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 652

Dear Readers,


First full day of fall

That season you like with a slice of toast
The roasted marshmellows on our fire
The day started with a single sandwich
Cut corner to corner and you have
Half and I have the best time looking at you
We dine off a single plate a lot
Out of some recipe cooked up
Just there for you
There is this bright light
It shines in your eyes
Even when they are closed
I see it as you sleep
I hear your sounds of slumber
Soft music to my ears
Listening to your heartbeat
As you sing the tune
That we just found
Neither one of us had heard
There in the new play list
At the library in town
Reaping cedars at the cafe
Was the band's name
Odd name
Just invented
Here
Today
For you


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 651

Dear Readers,


Eggs

There were three of them in the fridge
But two more on the counter
There was a smile on your face
You had a potato in your hand
The smile said
Good Morning Love
What's for breakfast with these

So the skillet was used
And then some of this and that
Handing you a Plate
Then a fork
And then your big mug
Coffee was yesterday
Tea today
There the smiles sitting facing
The meal finished

The recipe
Ours and if you others want it too
Well um, Ask her
She is the Birthday Girl
As always in these poems
But she'll just laugh
And say
He invented it on the plate
And I helped the process
By giving him the choices
Ingredients that is

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 650

Dear Readers,

Moss

There was that picture moss everywhere
The rocks covered with it
The path down the hill
Then we both looked close
Said at the same time
We've been there
Took us a while to find it
The scrapbooks have dates
But hard to find exact pictures
There on the one from that snowy year
The moss covered rocks
A note saying we also had video
There your hands on a tree
There that path
Screen saver pictures always amaze
Today we had one that we were at
There in the mossy rocks of a park
Off the trail up a way
The picnic and those new crackers
We made notes to buy a few more
The store made them in the back
Not a brand to get easy
But the winery we'd visit again
We made some plans

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 649

Dear Readers,


Tuesday


The rain had stopped and the sun was out
The birds were in the bird feeders
There was a bunny rabbit in the garden
The porch was cool and still dry
The swing was swaying
You'd pulled your feet up
The sound of things it's own music
I was cuddling with you
That Blonde tabby you are purring
The fall day was going to lead to stars
There was some astronomy event we wanted to see
The clouds moved off slowly
The night promised to kiss us
With fire lights from the sky
And a soft fire in the bedroom too
Even in the grate with the wood

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 648

Dear Readers,


You

Standing there in the chill of late winter
The car still warm and cooling fast
The parking lot almost empty
I can see you standing over there
I think
Is that her
I take in the shape and smile
Thin
Thick coat
Blonde hair
Oh wow that is her

Standing there in the parking lot
Blonde hair in the shade of my van
I am just noticing for the first time
Those yarn X's on your shoulders
I am heard to say so on the video
I get in close and
Thin
Your hand isn't shaking
You are so awesome
I can't breath
I kiss you off camera
As I have turned it off
Wanting to be near you

Standing there in a picnic place's parking lot
We look about as we see a new place
Never been to before
Never planned on
It was listed on a map
We had never traveled through
Be this the tenth trip
Or the 90th
We are standing
Looking about
At the world
Through our soul


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 647

Dear Readers,


Coffee

The brew was dripping hot
The smell a chocolate warm
There was a hint of other things
Sweet flowers on the table
That smokey wood in the fire place
The butter melted on toast
The table set for two but not
There was only one plate in the middle
The cups each had different colors in them
Mine a creamy colored chocolate
Yours a black dye of steam
The eggs on top were sliced to shreds
The toast was going fast
The noodles too
The plate turned round
The fork to slice
The fork to eat
The camera held and recording
Our talk crisp as the sun outside
The smells the camera couldn't see
But the smiles and banter it could
Good Morning

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 646

Dear Readers,


Soft

Soft touches of sunshine on the window
Off to go see the sight of sun light
There the first time in a week
The speakers of the radio tell the tale
Joyous music plays for your dance
There the floors covered in squares of light
The reflections of the stained glass sparkle
The day is one to bounce with now
The light lingers a time
The clouds cover the vision
But you've seen the sun and are happy
It was still around
Not locked away in a cloud bank
The sweet lines of a poem drift by
The tale told of mirth and shine
The dance in the movie with rain slides by
The sunny morning soon as
He walks into the room with fresh hot coffee
Hands you a plate
Mei Fun and eggs on toast

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 645

Dear Readers,


Sunshine

That day when the sun was just starting to rise
You were looking out over the beach
Seeing horses and sand and dunes and waves
There was the beach house in the distance
Your phone playing some music
Your camera taking some pictures
The sun came up and the day brightened a bit more
Those are the days you want more of
As the clouds hang out over where you are
The bright sun and the sky blue
The color of your eyes
The color of that hue on your fingernails
The big painting that will be on our wall
The big blue sky and the sun peeking out
There is that blaze of shine to make you smile
Hugs and kisses babe
Sunshine you are to me

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 644

Dear Readers,


Soft

The day was rough
The road trips rougher
The soft glow of forest moon muted
There the day to mow gone again
The rain just enough
The worry of sons just so achy
Head was awash in that dull pain
Soft hands touch your neck
The smells of mint and chocolate
A raisin handed you
The taste what you want it to be
There in your mind's eye
The day eases by slowly
The voice telling you of sweet nothings
The feet rubbed
The calves massaged
The socks put on if you like
The fingers soft to back and shoulders
Whispers of things that comfort
The glow down low
The soft ease of night

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 643

Dear Readers,


Hugging you

Here hugging you with my fingers by a poem
There hugging you by the big pine in town
Over the creek bridge hugging in a photo
There in the parking lot of the picnic place
...hugging you by our favorite table
Over in the Washington Beach surf hugging you
The video of someone else has us Hugging
...we got a copy and it's on a disk
The first time I saw you in white coat
...we kissed and hugged in an elevator
I can't count the times but the lines
...of your bounces remind me of the hugs too
Over there by the big fireplace at a
...lodge in the swiss alps we hugged for a week
...of days every time we visited there
Hugging you is a bliss in itself your arms
...and mine though different blend us well
The kisses last years when our lips meet
The time slips to the side and we rest softly
Into the touching of our fingers softly twined


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 642

Dear Readers,


Travel


When our cars are traveling in two directions
The days get longer and a bit trying
The kisses long when we part
Waiting to meet those lips again
The driving not so fun alone
The joy of driving toward each other intense
The meeting so sweet there is only fire to see
Those days when we have the porch swing
The walks in the woods the cuddles all day
The music plays when you draw something
I'll be over here
Taking your picture
Smile the smile the light of your eyes
The giggle when I say
Say cheese
And hand you a hot grilled cheese
And smile that we are near each other
The long kisses that make the day go by
Hand in hand together a week dawn through dusk

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 641

Dear Readers,


Beach Chairs

The one you used to have in your room
That sofa like thing, that you found
It was used to sleep on
Then you had room for a desk
There was that big beach chair we found
The folks said it was from the Islands
But didn't say which, though in the Pacific
The color was off white a cream white
There was a big cushion on it
Then 2 small ones as well
We put it several places
Once it was on a big covered porch in the woods
Once it was on a beach
We still sit on it
Out there by the sound of waves
There are other kinds of chairs
But we like the ones
We can sit cuddled on
Easier to kiss

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 640

Dear Readers,


Soft cuddles

The pillow soft with fur
The neck rubbed to ease the pain
The headache not so bad with TLC
Long soft cuddles the afternoon away
The days when things are achy need slow touches
Slow dance of hands on sore muscles
The food of hot tea and something easy
The hot shower and if need be a chair
The warm compresses and soft oils
Those days when the chill needs a fire
The soft cuddles to slow the day down
Slips hands down your back and feather light
Tell you a bedtime tale of forest glade
Cuddle you till the day fades away

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 639

Dear Readers,


Dance

When the snows are deep
When the dew is sweet
When the days are long
When the fireplace is on
When there is no music
When the dawn is far off
When she walks in the room
When she sees me arrive
When the day is short
When the sunset is near
When the lights are off
When the shadows slow
When she hears the music
When she touches my hand
When I see her arrive
Whenever we kiss standing up
Whenever we want to
Dance in each others arms

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 638

Dear Readers,


Swinging feet


There in a short video
You sit feet hanging off the bed
Swinging in the air
The bed higher than most
The Swiss Alps snowy
The hotel with high beds
Feather fluffed pillows
And rich goat cream
That went into my coffee this morning
There you are socks still on
In that striped shirt
Those jeans from the states
That smile lights the room
The kiss is long
But off camera
There is the giggle heard
Then me saying
One two and click
The scene is still fresh
The kiss on my lips yummy
Every second special
Every second of you

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 637

Dear Readers,


Soft days

The pillows fluffed near the headboard
The lights down low
The dishes of the meal cleared and clean
The fireplace a warm glow
The day almost forgotten outside
The stormy weather quiet and rain soft
The music low but we dance to it slow
The hands yours and mine melt together
That feeling that they have
Flowing slow in our heartbeat
Soul of my Soul we whisper
The room lit by the fire glow
The dreams of snow hung on the wall
Mystery buyer they said
Gift box on porch this morning
Slow dance we do
Kisses soft
Slowly we melt
Into dreams of snow


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 636

Dear Readers,


Oh those dreams of snow

There was that painting we saw at the gallery
I kinda sorta wanted to buy it
But I sorta kinda wanted someone else to first
As it was a painting you were selling
The one where you painted the snow
It was called
Dreams of Snow
There was snow in it
And the Dreams too
I had though, the rough drafts of it
The photos of it
The bits of smaller and medium sized ones
The ones you made almost like it
The ones I loved having
..Over my desk at the city house
The ones we planned for the beach house
The videos of you I took
As you painted and looked at me with the sly glance
That glance you give me
When you catch me clicking a shutter
Or filming you doing something
You like the camera in my hands
But like me in your hands better
The camera gets forgotten a lot

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 635

Dear Readers,


Recipes in a blue book

You have good penmanship and so you write
The recipes in our recipe books
At times they were just the ones on trips
Other times they are on cards that get added
When we get home and have time to transpose
The grilled things, the picnic we have
The crackers we found at that little shop
The cheeses in the bin at that farm
The plans and wines and things
Long lines in the pages of the cook books
The spare blue book with the recipe title
The grilled snow sandwich made a page and a half
Of lines in your neat hand with a soft drawing
The notes read like a small story
There was even a picture notation to the photos
Some recipes do that, they come with photos
We keep them in another book for that year
Orderly and dense moss and hand photos
With Blue cheese salad photos too
Art house projects of sheets and leaves and you
Blue the books of recipes and notes of us

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 634

Dear Readers,


Grilled Snow sandwich

It isn't the summer day without a small shower
The snow shower that hit today wasn't a long one
But the cold clouds were welcome
We didn't want the summer back so soon
The looking in scrapbooks of summer
Made the snow welcome
The dance in the living room in front of the fire
The slow meal around the table
The soft music and more dancing
Soft slow cuddling as our feet moved
The winter day wasn't that bad for a monday
We had a new meal planned the day before
We called it not what it was
But what the world outside made us think
So it is in the recipe book
In her neat hand writing as she is cute
Cute every second of the day
Slips her fingers into mine
We loose track of time

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 633

Dear Readers,


Snow Shoes

Though I don't wear shoes, mostly sandals
90% of the time I am barefoot
In snow go barefoot at least once per snowfall
She wears shoes in the snow
These last few days of snow falling here
Have her wearing warmer and warmer shoes
Keep her toes warm
I even have some hiking boots I've put on
It can get cold in the mountains
The rabbits have bunny feet
The boot I put her in today have fluffy bit
The strings have little feather and clothe bells
They looked cute when I drew them that day
So with needle and thread and supplies
There was a craft project we did
For her Snow Shoes
She giggles when she thinks about them
That day was warm and sunny
I think it was Sept first


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.