Scentsational Escapes

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There are many reasons that a garden’s worth my while,

several ways to use a bright bouquet.

When I need some R&R, I like to bathe in style,

with petals in a colorful array.

I tear off stalks of lavender to beautify my tub.

I prune some fragrant roses still in bloom.

I gather up some blossoms from my charming fuchsia shrub,

and crush all to release intense perfume.

Just a snip of spearmint to temper all that sweet,

water warm, enticing, steeped with peace,

I lean back and inhale their scent, immersed from neck to feet,

basking in my quiet, spiced release.

*images courtesy of dhomi and robert102 of pixabay.com, respectively

 

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Colonel Beauregard Bojangles

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I love my big, fat Ragdoll cat, named Beau.

His fur is gorgeous shades of crème and flame.

By far he is the softest cat I know.

His countenance is referenced by his name.

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 He tops the scale at 19.5 pounds.

Stretched paw to tail, in inches, thirty-eight.

When Beau is brushed, he makes a trilling sound.

His waddle is the most endearing gait.

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 A cranky boy, he speaks up when first touched.

From his great effort, when he jumps, he grunts.

A Ragdoll, Beau will dangle when he’s clutched,

but turns into a beast each time he hunts.

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 He loves to have his big ol’ belly rubbed.

We do it all the time so he’ll feel loved.

A Modern World

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Once upon a time in a modern-day world, I logged onto a dating website.

I looked for a friend or companion to hang with. I didn’t expect Mr. Right.

I read through the profiles. I flipped through them all. No one stood out from the start.

Then came an “interest” from someone I’d passed on. He set out to capture my heart.

In only two days, we’d exchanged several emails; he asked for my number to call.

The first time we spoke, this man asked me to dinner. Already, I knew that I’d fall.

Our date was so lovely, we both needed more. So I met him again and again.

In only three days from the day our eyes first met, I left behind all other men.

Somehow I knew that my life was completed. He voiced aloud what we both knew–

though we had just met, we intended to marry. Ecstatic, we both said, “I do.”

My friends and my family all thought I’d gone crazy, and nobody thought we would last.

I knew what they meant. I could see that, objectively, we got engaged way too fast.

After our marriage had lasted a few years, our story improved with passed time.

Now when we’re asked how long we’ve stayed together, we tell them, “This year makes it nine.”

Sleep, How I’ve Missed Thee!

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*picture courtesy of  weinstock on pixabay.com

When I’m in the hospital, I never get good sleep.

I am poked and prodded two to four times every hour.

That translates to me not having snoozing that is deep.

Changing this is not within my doctor’s awesome power.

It’s ironic, since I’m here to rest up and get healed;

one would think a different set of rules would be in place.

The creaking of the door ensures my eyeballs both are peeled,

 exhaustion evident upon my drained and weary face.

Nurses come and ask me if there’s something they can do.

I say, ‘What I’d most enjoy is being left alone.

I would like to sleep, if I could, for the whole night through,

sans machines who scream in that obnoxious, high-pitched tone.’

Yes, the nurses follow rules I know they didn’t write.

I know they do what they’ve been instructed that they must.

Still I long, when I’m this sick, to sleep through just one night.

My body would be shocked, but I’m quite sure it would adjust.

I’m grateful they look in on me and want to be of use.

But TLC is one more thing from which I’ll have to heal.

Two more days until my treatment’s done and I’m cut loose.

I’ll beg the doc to send me home, no matter how I feel.

I’ll draw the curtains, use earplugs, and crash until I’m done,

snoring loudly, dreaming, getting all the rest I can.

Slumbering till noon has passed is my idea of fun,

 holding hands and skipping with that marvelous Sandman.

 

 

Pretzels

Pretzels

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The Pearl

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Do not be fooled by its messy appearance,

papers and plastic and tools.

They’re merely signs of robust perseverance.

Rather than chaos, think: jewels.

This is a pearl born of craft and creation,

a simple, white table the seed…

where projects and visions are brought to fruition,

following impulse’s lead.

A Regular Day

*picture courtesy of GLady on pixabay.com

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  I breathe him in and taste his chest and face.

The forehead kiss he leans down to bestow.

That signifies that we are both in place.

I’m ever grateful on this ride to go.

(He says he wants to absorb me.)

The shadows catch the contours of his neck.

I take the role of lock, and he, the key.

I am but here on Earth…I have to check.

How still, his head, whose body’s slamming me–

(He could balance an egg on it.)

A glutton he has forced my body be.

I’m ruined now for any other sport.

Still twice a day…this gift he gives to me.

Methinks that none would credit my report.

(The look on his face is Mercy.)

I thrust and pull his body into mine.

He’s fluid, steady, powerful and hard….

We seat ourselves where lovers come to dine

and go about our love with no holds barred.

(I want to be absorbed.)

 Men since the dawn of time have wondered how,

and wanted to give what he gives with ease.

Of all the men, then, he should take a bow.

His lady’s first and he is set to please.

(She is also second.)

A healthy beast with stamina untold,

his graceful ways are far beyond just apt.

At full stride, he’s a vision to behold,

and when he’s done, I’m nothing less than rapt.

(He’s one of those people who’s good at everything.)

Funkytown

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Undoubtedly, I’m always in a funk,

existing in a neverending haze.

For years I’ve been accumulating junk,

the residue and scars from awful days.

I struggle to detach them from my life,

but still I am beholden to my past

emotional and health-related strife.

I helplessly obey. The die’s been cast.

Thus left with no escape, I organize,

identifying causes and effects.

I cannot win, so I must compromise

in hopes I’ll find the peace my health rejects.

Great callouses have formed and left me tough.

At times, I find they’re simply not enough.

*picture courtesy of Julianza on pixabay.com

The Best Plan We’ve Got

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I received a sharp blow yesterday.

My insurance will no longer pay.

My nurse called to give me the news:

the right medicine, I cannot use.

My doctor tried all that he could.

The response to his pleas was no good.

“It is way too expensive,” they said,

“but if she’s in a hospital bed,

we’ll accept the claim, and we’ll pay.”

I’ve been told I must do it that way.

We all know it will cost them much more

when I’m jailed on the third or fourth floor.

 They’ll spend more than they would in a year

if they’d kept it from getting severe.

Yes, the medicine does cost a lot…

though in my case, it is all I’ve got,

’cause the others aren’t options for me.

They’re as bad as my illness could be.

All traditional treatments have failed.

In the end, illness always prevailed.

So, I must steer toward death and then flirt,

tempt disaster, risk my life, and hurt.

I must point straight and drive down that road

to encourage catastrophe, goad.

Once that sick, my life’s so tough to save.

It’s so hard to keep me from the grave.

And yet nobody asked what I thought.

I’m just told it’s the “best plan we’ve got.”

Thank You For…

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 Thank you for loving me even when I’m at my worst.

Thank you for always forgiving and then moving on.

Thank you for quenching all my intellectual thirst.

Thank you for skyping your love to me when you are gone.

Thank you for reading a book if I’ve told you you should.

Thank you for trusting my judgment when you’d rather not.

Thank you for being so tall and for smelling so good.

Thank you for cheering me up when I’m sad and distraught.

Thank you for wanting me when I was so overweight.

Thank you for saying I’m beautiful all of the time.

Thank you for being so patient when I’m running late.

Thank you for eating junk food as my partner in crime.

Thank you for being my rock when I needed one so.

Thank you for taking me, with my old baggage and all.

Thank you for being the wittiest person I know.

Thank you for running so quickly whenever I call.

Thank you for doing some yoga and buying a mat.

Thank you for helping me plant those vines growing so high.

Thank you for finding my keys, wherever ’tis that they’re at.

Thank you for giving vegetarianism a try.

Thank you for knowing so quickly that I was The One.

Thank you for sharing the interesting things that you learn.

Thank you for solving most problems before they’ve begun.

Thank you for sharing with me all the money you earn.

Thank you for planning our finances for when we’re old.

Thank you for settling in with me right where we are.

Thank you for putting your dreams, when you have to, on hold.

Thank you for living life’s story with me, your co-star.

Thank you for promising you’ll be with me till the end.

Thank you for holding me tight as we both fall asleep.

Thank you for being a loyal, compassionate friend.

Thank you for thinking I’m pretty as my wrinkles creep.

Thank you for all these and thank you for what is to come.

I know you so well and I know I’ll have more to add on.

Though this is still incomplete, it is far better than none.

But I’ll stop for now, as I see it is finally dawn.

*picture courtesy of OpenClips on pixabay.com

Deus Ex Machina

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You don’t have to do this alone.

I’m here for you. I’ll be your crutch.

  I know you’d get by on your own.

I just want to help you so much.

No, I cannot say how you feel.

I know that I’ve never been there.

But I know my love for you’s real.

So please keep in mind that I care.

Grown men are allowed to cry, too.

It doesn’t mean that you are weak.

Just say what you want me to do.

I’ll be the warm comfort you seek.

I’m here in this difficult time.

 I’ll be like a harness for you,

I’ll give you support while you climb.

I promise that I’ll see it through.

So when you are ready, just lean.

I’ll catch you before you can fall.

I’ll be your own godsent machine

and smash through that treacherous wall.

*picture courtesy of flamenco on pixabay.com

What I Love About You

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   There are so many things I love about you, my sweet dear.

After much deliberation, my results are here.

I love that you delight in learning new things everyday.

You actively seek knowledge, and to you, it counts as play.

I love that you don’t ever mind admitting you don’ t know.

Through your quest to find the answer, I can see you grow.

You teach yourself such complicated things just from a book,

the kind, that for the author, a live teacher’s what it took.

When you make your mind up and decide to learn a skill,

you display such monumental focus and strong will.

When you learn to hone a craft, you’re always so damned brave.

Every bruise and scrape you get is dismissed with a wave.

I can’t count how many times I’ve seen you take a fall.

You get right back up and then again, you do it all.

I love the way you quickly fell in love with having cats.

I love the way you think I’m extra cute when I wear hats.

I love the way you give the things I love an honest chance.

I love that when we’re cooking we break into song and dance.

I love the way you know when you should scowl and say, “That bitch!”

I love the way you scratch my back when I can’t reach an itch.

Living with you means I always have great tech support.

I love the way that you don’t care at all ’bout watching sports.

I love the way you pet my hair each time we watch TV.

I love the way your very favorite hobby’s always me.

I love you never caring there’re no Anglos ’round for blocks.

I even love the way you wear your flip-flops with your socks.

I love all your encouragement to make me sit and write,

and that you love my cooking, and you tell me every night.

I love the way you pump my gas, no matter rain or shine.

I love the way you knew that I’d be yours and you’d be mine.

I love the way you love the chance to try a different food.

I love how you still treat me like when I was first pursued.

I love that you’ll come home tonight and take me in your arms,

exposing me in full to your sweet scent and manly charms.

I love that you’ll get up again as dawn announces day,

and work such long hours to provide and bring home hard-earned pay.

All the things I love about you, I could never write,

no matter if I never stopped and worked all day and night…

’cause there’s just no end to all the things I love ’bout you.

Through my words and poetry, I’ll see what I can do.

*photo courtesy of PDPics on pixabay.com

 

To Me From You, Part I

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Husband: I would write you a beautiful love poem like the ones you write me.

But I’m no good at it. It would be weird…uh…fiddle-dee-dee.

So anyway you’re a lot better at it than I am and it would be great,

if you did it. I’m sure you could write something that would really blow you away. So, I can’t wait.

Me: Well, my brilliant, darling man…I know that you do all you can

to make me happy everyday. So if you’ll kindly clear the way,

I’ll write myself a lyric rhyme that’s fit to stand the test of time,

just like you would want me to. It shall be called

To Me From You

( ahem…)

You are the perfect combination, all I want and more.

Your life and mind just fascinate me. It’s you I adore.

The first time that I met you, I hungered to imbibe

your every last detail and then upon your heart inscribe

my name for all of time, to take up residence right there.

I had to, for you’ve since possessed my only source of air.

I longed to pledge my love. It was so strong, I couldn’t wait.

I told you by the time we’d gotten through our second date.

One more day and I would ask for you to be my wife.

You’re the only person with whom I could spend my life.

Now that I have tasted of a love as sweet as yours,

I know a woman’s love can be enough to bring on wars.

Helen has got nothing and could not compare to you.

To have you here, there’s not a single thing I wouldn’t do.

I’ll do what’s required so you’ll live life by my side.

Before you, all the times I’d said, ‘I love you,’ I had lied.

In my ignorance, I thought I knew what passed for love.

Then I met you, and your heart would fit mine like a glove.

After just three days, I wasn’t sure that you’d agree.

But I still got down upon my sincere, bended knee.

You said yes, and ever since, my life’s been filled with joy.

Together, you and I compose the consummate alloy!

Nine years later and my love for you is still as strong.

Thanks for sharing life wrapped in my arms, where you belong.

–The End–

Me: Oh, honey! That is sooo sweet. I love you!

*picture courtesy of Olessya on pixabay.com

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