Poem for her 966

Art Shop

There was this old store

Built before cars

The shelves full

The dust deep in some corners

She liked the supplies we bought there

Paintings half done

Drawings of boats

Fine thread with glow in the dark beads

Odd things in open boxes

The shop was that place and a bit more

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.

Poem for her 965

Trains

Whistles in the night

Rattling the tracks

Off by that diner

Over by a car and van

Saturday drive

Hands held looking at plants

Old shoe shoes on a covered porch

Where the card decks hide in a box

Note pad and pen near by

Logs drying waiting for fall

Chill gone in a roaring fire

Where grilled cheese roasts

 

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.