“I'm sorry if you miss me”
was the response, as I noted her growing distance.
I replied that she had warned me of this,
when it had begun in its first instance.

I'd like to think that I'd helped her along
from someplace dark and cold.
I enjoyed our chats, camaraderie, and banter …
it never seemed to get old.

I brought this up again as the distance grew wider
each and every day.
I told her that I was happy for her
and that she'd finally found her way.

I'd be there again, without a thought,
it was never something I'd minded.
She'd told me earlier that she was now “less needy” …
So, it's not like I was blindsided.

I know sometimes that its tough …
tough through fog to see.
I guess the thing that certainly confounds me is …
Why doesn't she miss me?

I've this new friend, she's so complete.
Solid as a rock, from her head to her feet.
We met online, sharing poems, lives and paths.
We talked about everything and always have a laugh.

She's shared her life … from before and in the now.
She's a busy gal with a family and a really great man.
She works a job, writes her poems
and is forever making plans.

We've shared some deep thoughts …
and found many things in common.
But my favorite thing about new my friend …
is that she's as stubborn as a Brahman!

That's a type of Bull,
for those of you who don't know …
just try and steer her off of her path …
and those horn's she'll surely show.

Feisty, fierce … opinionated too …
To claim that she is headstrong … would not be untrue.

She's a really great Mom, with a brood to be proud of, no jest.
They are accomplished and well rounded, always doing their best.

I'm so happy that I've met this pal,
even chatted with her and hubby on the phone.
I'm sure that when we finally meet in person,
our kinship will be wholly grown.

That will be great,
a new closeness to live and to be.
But this will bring yet another task …
a task just for me.

For this is only part one of my poem …
Part two to be written when …
I finally see and hug my new friend(s) …
and our friendship starts yet again!

she asks at last,
is this one for me

“of course it is,
was waiting for visualizing
the Oh,
when I heard
you stumbled into it”

she then confesses,
she has
a “tendency to stumble”
without an explanation

her answer is in her manner subtle,
that instantly invigorates,
so decidedly her style,
her answer,
raising more questions,
defeating the illusion of
anybody masculine overconfidence of the challenger

she puts the ”oy” in coy,
deflating my upper-handed attitude,
with an answer tantalizing and hinting,
so simple, it explains everything
and nothing

it seems that when she stumbles,
it’s me that actually,
“all fall down”

ah woman,
when you best me,
it brings forth the best
and adds an
“a”
in this poetic beast,
two play fighting cubs nipping
each other. the in us gaming

in this wordplay game,
so exciting,
her subtle reasoning teasing
results in a man as
a happy sore loser

~for she who knows whom I mean~

do not beg to differ
just do

she is progressing true,
but the process is foretold
three generations of tracks
the line is map drawn

she and the generations before
and the generations to follow are
a work in process

the process is forever foretold
the genes are in control

do you ken the difference?
do you ken the compliment?
and the complement...clear