The strong late winter wind/
blew through me,/
and turned me around again,/
like she never would do me./

It forced upon me at last,
though probably much too late,/
the formidable, daunting task/
of setting my bearings straight./

Like tree branches which are at first/
slowly by breezes unfurled,/
but then by the storm at its worst,/
ripped apart and hurled;/

So my life and emotions were washed away again/
by she who blew through me like the strong late winter wind.

First you tempt me/
with brain surgery;/
then you write me/
just to excite me;/
then you vanish … /
and my muse disapears./

What do you write?/
I write, right?/
We could write/
and delight/
some night/
together/
whenever/
we felt the muse/
to amuse/
(or confuse…)/

Dang!/
Don’t leave me hang/
in’!/
Please write again!/

I wrote a quick poem for a friend (in an email), taking about … 3-4 minutes. She responded with the question: “Just for me? Or is this your standard fare?” Implying, perhaps, this question which others have asked: “Do you just pull poems out of your toolbox and send them to your friends whenever you need them?” This was my (original) response, AND an edited version I posted on a blog elsewhere:

I don’t keep poems/
in my box./
I don’t pull rhymes/
out of my sox!/

They aren’t pre-done/
for others to view!/
They’re just for fun,/
from me to you!

Because I hope, and think/
a creative rhyme/
flirts better than a wink/
any time!

So I create new poems, again and again,/
Just for you, because I can!

————
An Anti-Wink Sonnet:

I don’t send winks/
to your inbox./
Such pokes stink/
worse than my sox!/

Poems aren’t pre-done/
for others to view!/
I write sonnets for fun,/
from me to you!

Because I hope, and think/
a creative rhyme/
fits better than a wink/
any time!

So I create new poems, Seussian,/
Just for you, because I can!

I have legs, too, two!/
AND am funny ..
like vous!/
Care to chat/
about dogs and cats/
and act not our age!/
(’cause that’s/
where it’s at!)