Poem for her 830

Dear Readers,


The Garden day 5


The wings spread out wide
Flying the thermals high
She landed beside me up here
The rocky ledge was ice free
I said, you are right babe
She pointed to the next one
That one is the highest
The Humans would name it
K2
There we were high on the other
She took wing
I wait 3 slow heart beats
Then aloft I was behind her
She and I were a matched pair
There were only two of us
The Lord said soon
We'd see the arrival
Of humans
They'd be awake
Soon
Over there in the Garden
Whoosh went the air flow


Happy Birthday Babe,


Charles.

Poem for her 829

Dear Readers,


The things I saw on Mullen Street today.


There I was walking with an old friend
Well he is younger than me
And younger than my cat like Babe,
We had stopped to take a rest break on some steps
Then I wanted to go back again
The came such a rush of wings
Fluffy lurking birds chirped
Then out of the talons of an eagle
The package arrive
The Eagle settled to the ground
Then he looked at me and said
Hey Charles next time you leave home
And forget your book bag
Please just have the invisible
Elephants bring it to you
It had to be You
I said to my friend
I want you to meet
Rhonda Stewart She has heard
About a famous book bag
Floated down from eagle's wings
To her delight
The Eagle had some bird's opinions
They must have just talked the day away
Her emails were handled when she turned
To see how many left to do, a post it
Note on computer screen
This bird can talk
So be sure you get his
Alfred the Sea Gull signature
My cat called Babe
Was in the conversation too
Just not quite yet
She will get here in a bit
And we will just lick each other's ear


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 828

Dear Readers,


Version 2 scrapbook 12


The napkins were of all colors
There was the first one from the diner
Then nine more from the same diner
The diner had changed styles of napkins
We had almost all of them
Then when the owner of the diner saw us
Finding out what we were up to
He changed the napkins that we had
He'd bring out his set for us
They had lace or colors and styles
Each visit would be a new one
Poems on napkins with drawings
I'd write and draw and babe would too
By the time we had a pile
We had gotten to scrapbook 12
Calling it Version 2
We made up a totally napkin collection
Lots from this diner yet others too
We've been doing this since before we met
The days long ago the idea old as rain
The ink and lines full of time
She is still the finest wine

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 827

Dear Readers,


Belt loops

Alabaster ankles below the hems
The blue of denim
Pockets at front and back
Belt loops where my fingers held
She smiles at the line
Looking over mt hands as I print
Slow on this napkin
Dinner over with
Wine glasses half full
I'd picked up the pen from cards
Started writing words
She smiles as I ask her to get up
Let's dance I say
The poem never gets finished
There it sits in a scarp book
Held with a clip on the page
She still has the pants
We still dance after dinner too

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 826

Dear Readers,


Summer gazebo

The wind in the yew hedge warm
Flowers out by the eves bright
The day is hot in the sun
Cooler under the roof, fans turning
You have a pile of cards
Some aren't playing cards
Some are
The odd cards are ones with notes
We made them last week
With questions on them
Answers aren't written
Odd thoughts to think about
Things we've done in the past
Things yet to do
Ideas untold
We are playing one of our favorites
The afternoon is slow
Yet it seems fast when the clock is seen
The dinner is ready
Just inside the kitchen door
Slow warm summer days
Vacation of a sort

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 825

Dear Readers,


Cards by video


The video starts with a laugh
There are her hands
Shuffling cards
The shirt is odd looking
Shifting lines
Many colors
I try to think back
That day
When was the day
Was it a Tuesday?
I hear myself say something
Hear the cards
See the notebook entry
See the hands
The arm I am focused on
There she sits
The cards settle
The video stops
The memory still fresh
Yet it's been a while
Was it last year
Last week
There are video records
Years old
Her still the same


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.