I tell you this
with great hope
and trepidation.
we are not meant
to withstand such
excesses in love.
so indulge me in
a more meaningful
conversation.
and we’ll explore
the boundaries set;
enough is enough.
i am unsure if my
heart is capable
of this affection,
and even were it so
surely yours would
crumble with strain.
simple love is best,
you see, with fewer
forms of dereliction,
best to love with one’s
heart only, and neglect
the deeper kind of pain.
nothing can compare
with sloppy doggie kisses;
paws for approval.
scratch behind the ears
forms friendship for a lifetime;
canine loyalty.
sweetest companion
bundle of fur and pure joy
loved beyond measure.
A friend’s beloved dog was attacked yesterday by an aggressive dog who escaped from his owner. Please send healing thoughts to little Cayla and her humans.
peace, people.
i loved you
before it was cool
before i knew
what love meant.
love it seems is more
than hearts and flowers;
more than sweet
expressions.
it’s hard work,
honestly, this love stuff.
not for the
weak of spirit.
there have been
days when i felt the dearth
of love; its
cold absence.
but mostly love’s
embraced us like the warmest
hug on the coldest
night. perfect.
c’mon!
you can do it!
rise and shine, girl.
nope.
i’m comfortable
right here in my bed.
c’mon!
time’s a’wasting!
the world’s your oyster!
nope.
go away. leave me.
mumble, mumble, mumble.
c’mon!
i brought donuts!
and coffee with Baileys.
nope.
wait. did you say
donuts? Baileys? i’m up.
I wrote this piece awhile back for my youngest granddaughter who was two at the time and couldn’t understand why her older siblings got to ride the big yellow school bus and she didn’t.
Harper D is now three, and today was officially her first day of Pre-K, but I thought it would be fun to revisit this mostly true poem.
“D Wants to Ride”
The big yellow bus came to D’s house today.
Garrett got on the big yellow bus.
McKayla got on the big yellow bus.
D could not get on the big yellow bus.
“You must be three, and you are only two,” said Garrett.
“You are way too little,” said McKayla.“I am big,” said D.
“I can count,
I can sing,
I can climb,
I can swing.”
“Just one more year,” said Garrett.
“You will be a big girl next year,” said McKayla.
“But I AM a big girl!” Insisted D.
“I can play,
I can dance,
I can run
Really fast!”
“D,” said Garrett, “Be our baby for awhile.”
“D,” said McKayla, “Stay little for awhile.”
D thought and thought. “OK,” she said.
“I will be your baby for one more year.I will still count and sing, climb and swing.
I will still play and dance and run very fast.
But next year I will get on the big yellow bus!”
“Bye, D,” said Garrett.
“Bye, D,” said McKayla.
“Bye big yellow bus!” said D. “I’ll see you next year.”
Peace, people!
Four things one should never waste:
1. Time
2. Wine
3. Beer
4. The love of a good man.
Last night I dropped a bottle of beer on the cool green tile of my kitchen floor. Shards of glass flew everywhere. Beer went everywhere. I stood rigidly in place thankful that I was wearing flip flops instead of being barefooted.
Slowly I backed out of the mess and began prioritizing cleanup tasks. Of course, that’s when Studly Doright, fresh from his shower, came strolling barefoot down the hallway adjacent to the kitchen.
“Halt!” I barked.
I kid you not, his first words were, “What have you done now?”
Together we cleaned up beer and glass. The entire time Studly reminded (nagged) me about how much he detests glass anything in our predominantly tiled home. But, no one suffered a cut or slipped on the wet floor. I retrieved a fresh beer from the fridge and we had a gourmet meal of hot dogs and sauerkraut. Because that’s how we roll at Doright Manor.
Peace, people!
hurting hearts may heal,
eventually.
scars will remain, though,
inevitably.
how will you maintain
deniability?
how will you deal with his
vulnerability?
prepare for excursions into
futility
coping with your heart’s
fragility.
discouraging heights
intimidate most climbers
except those lovelorn. 
all those tangled hearts
drawn to assail reaches lost
without hope’s reward.
no rope, nor pulleys
may be enlisted for cause,
spurring hopelessness.
Last night I dreamt that I rescued two dogs from an abusive situation. One was a large, light brown mutt who was severely malnourished. The other was a cute little chihuahua who seemed bouncy and healthy.
I took them home and then multiple crises arose: my kids needed help, my job was nuts, there were aliens landing on the front lawn, etc. I forgot about the large dog and found him dead in the backyard. I cried and cried because I knew I was solely responsible for his death.
The little dog was still okay, though. Apparently I’d fed him, and he was still sweet and cute. But having killed the large dog I couldn’t give my heart to the small one. It felt like a huge betrayal, so I gave it away to a family who seemed like they’d cherish it.
I think I know what this dream was trying to tell me. I’m going to change my priorities starting now.
Thanks for letting me share this.
Take care, and peace, people.
some things truly are
written large in black and white,
like fidelity.
lay blame at your feet,
how can you be so foolish?
o’ child, chances fade.
Praying for Eyebrowz 