I would like to court you with some paddles, balls, and perhaps a net.

Game on?

Rush is my blood

Pushing my pulse faster

My pulse is my "tell"

My neck betrays me

I wrap my scarf closely

He dare not see


Wet are my hands

They are liars of my heart

My heart melting

My fingers are ice

He has drawn blood

My blood


I am excited

A race horse at the gate

On your mark

Set

Go

I take a deep breath

Ready for a sprint


I hear nothing but my heart

I think of nothing but

You

The You I cannot touch

With these cold empty

Hands

I'd rather be on something else;-)

Today

While I walked to my car

It felt like moving day

The day we, together

Packed

Loaded

Tied up

Tables

Dressers

Mattresses


You and I

Mother and child

Child my height

We

Lifted

Pushed

Shoved and

Pulled

Everything into the truck


Today it feels like

Moving day from

Just past a year ago

Today

Wind blowing

Air thick with rain

Clouds threatening

Us

You and me


Do you remember that day

As well as me?

Together

We were

Apart

For a time

Since

Together again

Today

Mother and child

You and me

Memorials

A designated day

Loved ones gone

Flowers not real

Feelings authentic

Artificial foliage weathers

The cold


On days when I would

Rather forget

I try to remember those

Stories lived and told

Otherwise

Obscured by every day's

Clutter and noise


Discard the present

For a piece of the past

A parlor

A table

And chairs by the fire

We open closed books

And picture albums


In memories

Good or bad

Preserved

Locked tightly

Holds a view

Unique to us

Thanks KiK!

If I was not me and

You were available

I might write my wish on

Sand stone walls or

Carve my wishes into tender trees

For all those who daydream of love

May read


If I was not me and

You were near

I might follow you

Step for step becoming

Your shadow

Watching your shoulders

And the backs of your shoes


If I was not me and

You were a sweater

Hand knit in your family's pattern

I would pull you on and

Hug myself

And go where the cold could not

Touch me


If I was not me

Dedicated to all "business" travelers.

He has gone away

For a week's stay

Where the language of "love"

Is all the same


He has gone away

On a business trip

Tripping over this awkward

Language of "love"


This place he is going

While never really leaving

He has been before

In his past, is the present


By plane or bicycle

He will cover the miles

No doubt he will connect

The smiles


By foot or by God

He will dance this dance

The clumsy language of

Romance, of

Filling a need by emptying

if only I could be one of your socks..........

I am tired of this 50 shades of nonsense. I know, I am such a party-pooper.

She invited him in and

Showed him the rug

And he showed her a pair of

Cuffs


She blinked a few times and

Offered a back rub

If he would "please set the cuffs

Aside"


With palms on his shoulders

And her knee pinning his back

"I don't like to be controlled"

She said


she grabbed a fist full

Of jet black hair

Bent down to smell its perfume

And close to his ear she repeated

"I don't like to be controlled"


She sat astride and

Rocked side to side

Grinding her seat bones

Where a lash should have struck

"I don't like to be controlled"


She sighed and looked at the

Clock on the wall

At the empty glass

And bottle not poured

She watched him leave and closed the door

"I don't like to be controlled"

i'd hate for you to be that guy too.

Hi Mom!
Glad you appreciate the not-so-lovey-dovey

I would not dream of stopping the horse!

He watches my den but

He is not cunning like a cat

More of a lumbering

That haunts my

Slumbering


He is not like a

Song bird

More like a carrion feeder

Travelling only in circles

I grow dizzy

Watching him fly


I thought he was

Prince Charming

But without his mask

He is a Knight of the

Darkest Order


He watches my den

I have left the light on

The welcome mat

Turned upside down

It is a big world out there

I hope he does his own laundry, or at least throw some rubber gloves in the hamper for Mum.

What is fun?

To outsmart the fox?

To play hide and seek

And not be found?


What is fun?

The chew toy or bone?

Said the dog

Said the cat of birds or

Mice


What is fun?

To tease the stud

Or fleece the sheep?

Or spend the day dreaming

Trying to remember things


What was fun is now

Out of the question

What was fun was my

Misinterpretation

Of Man


I am a reporter

On assignment

Investigating

Probing this thing called

Fun


There is more than

One

Method

There may be a part 2

To the story


This thing called

Fun

Unedited

On air in

5-4-3-2

Go

the airlines always lose the good ones.

I have some baggage

In excess

My bags are full of

Trinkets

Mementos

Souvenirs


Of past

Journeys

Voyages

Treks


I have much baggage

This is true

I have been many places

Heart and soul

With

My mind chronicling


Heart and soul

My mind forming

Pictures

Stories

Feelings


In unlocked bags

For those interested

In touring

Me