My scheduled time to sit vigil by your bed
was one o’clock this afternoon.
I was there, but you were gone.
.
poem- critics July 24, 2015
The ground squirrels have been offering endless entertainment
Daily theatre of gamboling fun with whistle accompaniment.
First I saw a lady with a trap
Then all the ground squirrels were gone.
End of the play.
Critics are deadly.
poem-hither? July 23, 2015
Overheard:
She wasn’t wearing her come-hither garment?
That was his excuse?
Perhaps he should wear his come-hither garment,
it’s not like she doesn’t ask him to all the time.
(Oh dear. For lack of garment, neither he nor she is coming-hither!)
poem-you know July 22, 2015
She told you, didn’t she?
You saw it in her eyes and the set of her lips.
She had expectations,
and you, generally so sensible to duty,
ignored overt and covert messages,
and carried on blithely
as steam gathered in her head and shot out her ears
in silent reprobation.
Then you shrugged your shoulders, quirked your eyebrows,
and said, “What?” with a tone that flipped all switches of her self-control
and you were astonished at the explosion of emotion
thus released.
She told you. Why weren’t you listening?
poem-lies by omission July 21, 2015
He is silent after the question
and she can hear his thoughts weaving through truths
to find the one he can speak aloud.
She accepts his spoken thought
but is not deceived.
His relief is unwarranted.
poem- wedding trauma July 20, 2015
The four year old leukemia patient
asked her nurse to marry her, and he said yes.
Then the whole floor got together to make a wedding:
flowers, brides maids, walk down the aisle on rose petals.
Ring pops were exchanged.
“This is the best day of my life!” the child bride exclaimed.
Youtube wedding video shared. Oh how cute! proclaims the internet.
.
I remember being four years old,
adoring the oldest son of our family friend.
His sisters all thought my devotion was adorable.
“I’ll wait for you,” he said with a kind smile.
And I believed him.
Then when I was nine, a wedding invitation came.
“You can’t have thought he was serious!” my mother snickered
at my distress.
I was rude to the bride, and no one understood why.
But I had learned that grown-ups lie and when your childish heart is crushed
they think it’s cute and kind of funny.
I remember, it was neither
for me.
.
.
.
.
Adults need to remember that children’s feelings are REAL, and that what’s ‘pretend’ is not always clear. When adults enter into imaginary play with such enthusiasm, they must do so with great care. I confess, I’ve never quite forgiven that older brother (now 67!!) for crushing my childish heart’s expectation. While I definitely appreciate the intentions of all involved in this quote wedding unquote, I do hope Abby is not as crushed as I was to learn the truth.
Side story: the rudeness was that I told the bride her bridal hat was horrible and no one should wear hats at their wedding. When it came time for my own wedding, I tried on a gorgeous bridal hat that looked fantastic on me. Always sensible to hypocrisy, I chose not to get it. (Looking at wedding photos from my era, I suspect that was probably for the best).
Article about the hospital wedding here.
poem-going July 19, 2015
He’s going.
I feel him stretching out
like old elastic on the tops of pantyhose.
How old are your pantyhose?
That’s not the point.
You need to refresh your pantyhose, seriously
that elastic is good for a decade at least.
Oh forget I said it. He’s going. I can feel him slipping away.
Like pantyhose falling off your hips if they’re so old the elastic is brittle?
Well, yes.
I have some elastic lace. We can sew it onto the pantyhose. They’ll be like new.
It’s not about the pantyhose.
No. It’s about the elastic.
No. It’s about the leaving.
You know, if you put a pair of panties over the pantyhose, it will keep them up.
Like a hug.
Exactly like a hug. Sometimes the pantyhose work down a bit and are uncomfortable, but they stay up.
How do you know these things?
Oh. We all have our emergency strategies.
Emergency.
Definitely.
Hmm. Right. Thanks.
poem- sad July 18, 2015
Why doesn’t the smile on your lips
show in a twinkle in your eyes?
What false bravado are you bearing
with that expression that tells lies?
poem-I do July 17, 2015
Yes.
No.
Maybe so.
I love you, but
I love you,
but,
I love you, so
I will.
Do you?
I do.
.
.
.
.
If this poem had a ‘gag reel’ it would include
I love your
butt
(cough) But it doesn’t. So pretend you didn’t read that.
Happy Anniversary #30 to my long-suffering man. 🙂
Five years ago, when this blog was only a couple of months old, I posted this anniversary thought, complete with sepia toned wedding photo…
poem-elevator July 16, 2015
I wait for the elevator.
She waits for the elevator.
They wait for the elevator.
We wait for the elevator.
Wait
Wait
Wait
for the elevator.
Rap Rap Rap, cane on elevator door.
“We’re working on it!” come the call.
Wait.
Wait.
Wait.
for the elevator.
Shawn L. Bird 