Poem for her 902

 The rain

There were puddles merging into small ponds

The yard where the cars parked was flowing

Downhill from the cabin the creek was high

It'd been raining all week

The fireplace had a warm glow to it

You were drawing something

I was making tea

The outside world was just wetter than normal

Then we heard a truck engine

Oh a visitor

Sure enough

The family of five was about to arrive

Library folk from town

Story Time Soon

Get the cameras ready

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 901

 Deck Chairs

They were folding

They were handmade

They had worked on the plans for weeks

Or was it months

Folding wooden chairs

The wood shop was out back

Near the art studio

Yet you couldn't find it unless you knew where it was

Hidden by a garden fence

Hiding behind some hazelnuts and berry vines

Over there

Looked like a moss covered stone wall

It was

Just not totally

The plans for that area were a lot older

In a blue notebook

Where a lot of pages were of all sorts of things

Her smile

His laughter

And a note

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 900

Cards 

Playing cards in hand

Ones with Heart on the back

Ones with birds on bikes

Just any old deck we have

Some done is a flat finish one color

Playing our select games over and over

Written scores on napkins or notecards

Played outside

Or over the road on park benches

There at the hotel table

Sweet thoughts on candy kisses

There by your head on the pillow

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.