Sittin’ at the beach/
chomin’ tasty barbeque./
You want some, don’t you!?

Which is greater/
and mo’ cooler?/
2b a L8r hater,/
a L8r dater,/
a L8r waiter,/
a diva drooler,/
or a smart girl fooler?/
The answer, 2 me,/
is both sad and scary./

It was a nearly perfect day. He:
Arose refreshed and drove the freeway through early-morning mists with no traffic;
Got lost in a bucolic farming community;
Parked next to an old pickup truck driven by a guy with a John Deere hat;
Watched an American flag flutter in the breeze by the dawn’s early light;
Surprised someone with May Day flowers plucked unexpectedly from his herb garden;
Got to know and laughed and conversed with the elderly;
Tried to help someone;
Explored Word(s);
Cheered as friend’s young nephew scored in an exciting comeback at a Little League game;
Helped someone feel more warm and comfortable;
Shivered in a light morning drizzle that didn’t fog or mist his glasses;
Clandestinly sat close to and was warmed by someone under a blanket;
Made someone smile;
Explored an almond torte, a raisin tart, and a pastry-wrapped sausage at a Dutch bakery;
Was refreshed and warmed after the game by a bowl of Pea Suppe almost as good as Grandma Bertha’s;
Got free bbq;
Avoided junk food, cigarette smoke and bright lights;
Tried to do something new;
Got lost while driving … again (his favorite activity);
Saw an old church steeple pierce a newly-opened blue sky;
Explored an old town;
Visited a familiar place he’d never seen before;
Got on the water;
Laid out at a beach;
Straightened out the s-curves with the top down on a scenic shoreline drive;
Saw sunlight stream through low clouds and paint patterns on the sea;
Returned, and came back;
Helped a friend escape;
Sampled more ethnic food;
Sang his lungs out;
Danced his heart out;
Brought down the house;
Laughed deeply, sincerely, and well;
Engaged in deep, rich and meaningful conversation;
Made a new friend;
Kept an old friend.

It was a nearly perfect day except, sometimes,
when he thought of you …
and wondered where you were.

“I’ve got your back”./
“I celebrate you back”./
Which would I rather see/
following me/
each time I look back?

Is the fast driver/
and blowing air hair rider/
really such a b*tch,/
or just have an itch/
to get gloves’ warmth inside her?

(Alternative version):
Is the fast driver/
and blowing air hair rider/
really a b*tch,/
or just have an itch/
to feel warmth inside her?

I think often thoughts/
usually ought/
2b discussed/
and intellectually fussed/
with the inspirer, but are not.

Chemistry may lead/
2 reaction,/
but not always 2 yer need:/
2 the 1./

Tho scary,/
it’s so,/
not of fairy/
tale, but from those who know./

Love learns./
Chemistry burns.

Ancient cranberries/
still tasted good, nourished me,/
and stuck in my teeth.

On my sweater still lingers
your scent so sweet.
I walk the streets,
past the beach,
but my walk’s incomplete.

I think of your eyes;
wistfully dream of your smile.
I wonder if you think of me;
wonder if you do so while
you walk the street, past Shay’s, toward the beach.
Have you forgotten? I’m still within reach.

A note to myself:/
Stuff romantic poetry/
on shelf. It’s too much.