Poem for her 885

Dear Readers,

 

Day 43

 

The Camero was on a tow bar 

She was driving the Jeep 

Towing her other vehicle 

The town we were passing through 

Looked on in wonder 

The day was the 43rd of the trip 

We had lunch out of a picnic basket 

The Wine was for later 

Then later arrived 

Ah sweet juice of grape 

The morning was lazy 

That afternoon too 

The evening we played cards 

Almost till dawn 

Well another day to sleep in 

Road trips can be slow 

Over there 

Over here 

Listen to our dance steps 

Then the morning song birds 

Off to trip over yonder bend 

Twisted roads and bridging gaps 

We were hunting 

White caps in deep serf

 

 

Happy Birthday Babe,

 

 

 Charles.

Poem for her 884

Dear Readers,


Dancing

Belt loops in my fingers
Our feet bare
The fire place flickers
The day dim
The stars up in light

The days long
The evenings short
Is it summer
Is it fall
It's dance time all

Over there a swing
Over here a tango
This is a waltz
This is a dip

Feet moving slow
Fingers touch
The day goes on
Weeks pass into months
Dancing all


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 883

Dear Readers,


Hands on the table


The picture has her hands
On a table
This table here
That table there
One table over a pond
One by a tree

Out on the porch swing
By a rock with moss
Sometimes a set of cards
Other times a shaft of paint brushes
Against a green table cloth
That table in the museum

The photos many
Sketches too
Still more videos
Some with colors
Some black and white

All of them Hers
Over Time


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 882

Dear Readers,


Splash in the dew


The morning dew was thick
The night air still foggy
The porch swing damp too
The cover we brought out colorful
Morning hot tea about ready
Run a bit in the dew
Feet wet

Your smile making the day better
Soon we'd be making fires at night
The weather turning chill
Over here we will make the snow fort
Over there the snow men

Splash in the dew
Spend the summer walking
Hiking the back trails
Hunting for the wild berries
Finding the springs

See you smiling at my wet feet
Hand you the hot tea
Greet you with a kiss


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 881

Dear Readers,


Drive Time Radar

Okay we didn't quite have radar
Yet if she drove we'd have a lot
Mostly cause I could hear her

I am deaf in my right ear
Okay if I drive alone
Not great if I drive with others
They could say something
Like she is in a habit of
Yes You read correctly
Sorta Kinda
You read something
Yet there is a joke in there too

On a video I have
I ask her to say something
You know talk to the video
She smiles
Something
Said slow and neat
And right into the beat
Of our thoughts
So

Radar is there I can hear her
And over here
Be the radar for the other side
Yet I love to drive
I also love to look
So the balance is
I can do either

I love to let her drive
As she likes the cars she drives
Sure to say something
This time around
She's the only car on the road

Out in t he coastal plains
Or up in the mountain passes
Over hill
Under the sky
There she sits
Loving every minute of
Something
Said to a poem line


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 880

Dear Readers,


Porch Cooking

Out there on the Kitchen side
The porch has a stone oven
We had picked lots of stones
Here and there
Brought them back to the cabin

Some made it here
Around the outside of the summer oven
Not just a grill
Not just an oven
Not just for food
Yet for food

The design was Outdoor Kitchen
Wood driven at times
Other times not
Always under cover
Shielded from the snow

The card games
Over hot tea
Lunch served hot breads
Breakfast grilled cheese
Any little thing we wanted
Out on the porch

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.