High Date

Today is my son Alex’s birthday. I hesitate to reveal his age because I am not old enough, but he is 33 years old today. If a child has ever been a blessing, Alex is one.

There are so many accomplishments he made of which I am proud. The thing most touching to my heart is that we are best friends.

Understandably I am spending time with him since he is local. It is the first time since 2006 we have been together on his day. So you will pardon me for a brief entry.

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I feel we play now
Off the staff, without clef, bars,
Improvisation.

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Tuning instruments
Preparing the score, once more,
In harmony, join.

Life’s Illusions

He was endless hope
When her smile dipped beneath tears
Puddled in creases
More rapidly appearing
On her face than ever ought.

Somehow she misgauged
The like he felt even though
She wanted to hold
On to who they were always,
He saw she was far broken.

Each day she kept it
Under control, but lost it
When she realized
She was failing in loving
Him without his loving her.

Abbreviated

Richard’s beautiful Orange Tabby, who is never entirely sure I am okay. Tonight I agree with him because I seem to have acquired a toothache that is also a headache.

I returned my DirecTv equipment today, so I have cut the cord and sunk the satellite. The amount of television I watch is so minimal; I probably will never miss it.

I do recommend streaming Peaky Blinders, Good Omens, and The Expanse. I only finished Good Omens. On Audible, I loved The Sandman. If you gathered, I am a Neil Gaiman fan; you read clues well.

The poem so heavy with images was an experimental rewrite; I probably should post the original of Same. I am on my phone tonight without my computer because I have been spending some respite time with Richard. It will wait. I do not like poetry on mobile because it always inserts extra spaces when I write.

Prompt: Tell someone you love that you do.

Same

We are coiled fibers
On separate continents
Our wiring entwines
Balances our humanity
Furnishing hope, joy, and love.

Our hearts beat, rhythm,
Alike, in Crayola bodies,
Grace swearing us in,
Hands touching hands, render smiles,
Cherishing we ragamuffins.

Presents beribboned
Sharing melodies inspired
Forgetting in place
Differences – become friends,
Each countenance shining light.

Opening ebon doors
To unleash brilliance, delight;
Understanding change
Growing fruitful, courageous,
Saluting equally all.

With passion aflame
Given examples guiding love;
God who embraces
Each aspect, person, creation
Abides, the Spirit of Grace.

Was A Moment

Silence covered us
Holding us together, apart,
In space, time, open
To the music between
In keeping with unexpressed
Feelings labeled – undefined.

Nothing spoken, no touch,
Could move our share much;
All ladled like soup,
Into bowls flowing with steam
Passion below the surface
Squeezed with covers of wild dream.

Part and portions given, real,
Misunderstanding enough to feel,
Fully gratified, satisfied,
Betide passion and wanting
To enter whatever door disclosed
Shores where love reigns supreme.

A moment came which presented
The possible opportunity of knowing,
Choices appeared positive
But somehow, the mistakes made
Evaporated certainty like raindrops
Refracting from Summer pavement.

What was ours became ethereal
A band, solid but impermanent
As lightning across an azure sky,
Characters who played out
Emotions for which we never paid,
However, memories we cannot mislay.

Prompt: Create something relating to a past time invested with lots of emotion.

Gratitudes:
The day is closing.
Nothing terrible happened.
I figured out why my devices were not writing to SD cards.
It was warmer.
Memory can be a great escape.

Thank you for coming by. Comments, Likes, Shares, Suggestions are all requested if you have time and inclination. Ways to follow are in the sidebar. I hope you have fun on the downslide of the week. God bless.