Poem for her 864

Dear Readers,


Picnics


They span years
Play out over days
Pick up steam when it's cold
Pull out the ice when it's warm

The parks and byways have benches
Then there are the stones and logs too
Places in the woods around the cabin
Porches out back in the city

Baskets in the Jeep and Camaro
One each for the city house and cabin
There might be a few out in the art shed too
We have friends that have them as well

Over yonder mountain top on the list
Places to go have a picnic
List is long and short
It's never far away
That table to sit at
Just there right next to us

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 863

Dear Readers,


City Driving

The car in the parking lot was silent
It liked to sit and wait
Yet it also like the roar of engine
Wind buffeting by as she drove
The car was a Camaro

There was another one in the city
Sitting at a curb
Waiting for the owners to get back
They were over by a picnic table
The sun shone through the trees

The Cars talked to each other
Over the distance
Whispering secrets
No one but the birds understood
Flight
Fast flight

Off near a cabin in the woods
Three birds set up a table of sticks
Making a race track
Whispering about a Jeep they all knew


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 862

Dear Readers,



Racing

Up the dirt road to the top of the hill
The Jeep went first over the top
Then down the slope
Round the first curve
Then down the second curve
Round the end by the lake
Then up hill again

She was driving
It was an old track
She'd driven it slow once
Long ago
Back when we first got here
Oh so long ago
We liked this section
When we got to drive it

Over here at a friend's place
Out over yonder hill
Down in an area set aside
Racing the back roads
Doing fun things
On weekends
With Jeeps


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 861

Dear Readers,


Razor racing

The window pane had paint on it
The Razor was slicing it off
Slowly

The sharpness was there at the edge
I was careful
I wanted some gone
Some left
Some right
Some pink
One blue dot

She was there watching me
She had a smile on her face
I smiled back

Someone asked
Are you a spy
She said
I don't know

I said

Yes she is

Or maybe just a blue dot
On a window pane

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.