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My cell
No bars
No walls
Just my own thoughts and fears
locking the door behind me

My prison
No guards
No sentence
Just my own awkward silence
swallowing the one and only key
Dance with me
my darling
upon the balcony
in the moonlight
cheek-to-cheek

We can whisper about
the shrouded past with smiles
and promise each other
all sorts of pleasures
one last time

Just close your eyes
my love
ignore the sound
of the wrecking ball
and i will hold you tight

even if for only a moment longer...
You bloom so bright for me
in each & every season

be it the intense heat in summer
or the frosted chill of winter

then there are days when
you are the only thing that shines

you're a strength
I greatly need & admire

you're an endurance
so priceless, so vast

I long each day
to nourish you in return

love is a gift
& you're the kindest one
imaginable to me

together we are firmly rooted
& so we shall remain
for all time to come
For Mrs Timetable.
Happy 25th anniversary, my love.

jolie fleur is French for 'pretty flower.'
Woke up this morning
only to find
my own shadow
has now decided
to practice
social distancing
Tonight, let's take a respite from the kids, get all dressed up, and head for the local grocery store.

We can even wear matching masks, take turns pushing the cart, and steal Kisses from the candy aisle.

You're on top of my shopping list, little lady, along with the melons and a case of toilet paper.

It may not be dinner or a movie, but it has its own romantic aura of about six feet in diameter.

Take my gloved hand & let's dance away at the checkout line, mask-to-mask. It's love in the time of COVID-19.
See Mrs. Timetable's "Grocery Store Date Night Morning After" poem.
The staircase that leads to her heart has no hand rails. No grab bars. You must measure your steps carefully, finding the right balance between what you want from her and what she really needs from you.
Wrapped in a warm blanket
With my wife / fellow prisoner
Where we share a brush with life
As the outside cacophony of
The paper boy
Throwing the morning edition
Of the wreckage
From the day before
Smites the window
We're in the cellar
Aging with the wine
Building a well
With bottled water
So far underground
And scared again
Signs from heaven
Please form an orderly line
I tried taking a trip
down memory lane
but it was closed
to thru traffic

So I called the department
of transportation
and they told me
it was all in my head
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