On the eve of me leaving,
alone, for France,
Your surprise last message, grieving,
came. You took that chance.
Since then I’ve had to roam
to Vegas, Dallas, Orlando,
Bountiful and San Antone,
with thoughts of you as I go.
I have always intended
to sit down and write,
but as days and nights have blended,
it never feels right, quite.
For an answer takes deep thought, time, and caring
To pen honest words worthy of sharing.
When Dave’s seat choice is done/
it’s understood:/
There’s always fun!/
And fun is good!/
In the right section/
we can yell and scream!/
Insult goalie’s imperfection!/
and holler: “Go Team!”/
Your ticketed section/
shouldn’t impact your seat picks:/
Make a defection/
to Section Twenty-Six!/
That’s what I did!/
‘Cuz that’s where the fun is!
When you no longer have time
to receive my verse,
to accept the rhymes
that I reherse.
Yet you, still, are my muse
regardless of my heart’s folly,
or what I’ll use
(in terms of technology)
To deliver my lines
and my romance;
my feelings refined;
my desire to dance;
When you’ve put communication on the shelf,
I’ll find ways to write, and dance with myself.
Will you teach me,
and let me see
how you’ll reach me
without poetry.
Send your smile
from your sweet face.
Rest your gaze awhile;
fill my empty space.
Talk to me deep
with dulcimer tones.
In my mind creep
through touch, computers, phones.
Then, at last, when we again meet,
I’ll savor your wisdom with no repeat.
Were we still together
Going off to bed
I might lean over
And kiss your sleepy head
Or tenderly caress
Your soft bright cheek
And ease your stress
With gentle words that I speak.
We’re now miles apart,
Yet I still long to say
Sweet words and kind thoughts
To help close your day.
My feelings have grown since I went.
Why should a night away be different?
It will be strange to see,
at day’s end,
rhymes and lines of so much creativity
honestly emoting again.
To know of the fantasies
that were, throughout the day,
laid down in visions and dreams
because a romantic had something to say.
To read of the beliefs
he allowed himself to feel,
but at the end see the griefs
he could no longer conceal.
And then to learn, as day faded to night,
it was mused deception. Out goes his light.
You ask what it seems
I have in my dreams,
if we would discuss
you, me, and us.
I dream of being able to,
in all ways, impress you
and full-on woo you
and with joy and laughter pursue you.
But if you say “no”,
and give into fear,
I’ll awaken real slow,
or slip into a nightmare.
For living out full-blown, wondrous dreams
is often much harder than it seems.
Three cute blondes in a row.
I emailed them all to let them know
I found them interesting and attractive.
I think they’d like that I’m funny and active.
The other two emailed me right back.
In a hurry, they gave me no slack
but said they’d quickly like to meet:
I should pick the place and the street.
But one haven’t responded yet,
and she’s the one I think I’d most get.
I’m funny and kind, and like to have fun.
I think we’d have a blast in the sun.
So now to make my trio ‘fini’,
I hope she’ll soon write me.
She said:
“You are on a roll!”
To which I responded
(in a tone rather droll):
“I’d rather be on you.
or you on me.
Like peanut butter with jam.
Like fresh bread and honey.
Like warm milk and white bread
fresh from the oven
having you spread
on me is just good lovin’!”
When I’ve lived so long gluten-free,
being on a roll sounds mighty tasty.