What would I give for a nook and a book
to cuddle and snuggle and longingly look
the pages unfolding as I listened to
the babbling song of a fast flowing brook.

Oh, if it had pictures, a faraway place,
mysterious villains, a dark alley chase
I’d pick up the phone I’d call in sick
disappear in the mist, leaving no trace.

What would I do to be captured by words
impressed into service by pirates with swords,
adrift without wind, current silently slow
half crazed crew pacing the sun-baked dried boards.

Perhaps of an evening a stroll on the beach
salt, surf, and moonlight on ebony skin
passion full sated on cooling soft sand
last dream of the shanghaied seagoing men.

What would I give for a storybook nook
I’d offer it all the time that it took
to take me away to wherever it would
leave me enraptured by a murmuring brook.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. This becomes more evident as we grow older. What we once may have thought was a work of art, now because of age has fallen apart. When we started out we might have looked like a Michelangelo, but in the end I fear that we shall all become Picasso's.

Written by James M Vines

Long lines looped the carousel
the first time you gazed my eye,
mounted on that chestnut mare,
grasped tight to the reigns up high.

I see his face around the bend,
a corn dog in his hand.
Locking eyes as I rise. I blush,
above the crowd he stands.
  
Light flickers, mouths water
delicate contoured lips laugh. I smile.
The music hesitates along with my breath.
I think I'll be staying awhile.

Bewildered and a little dizzy,
I dismount with a giggle.
I lick my dry lips, dreamily,
hoping he is single.

With the wind, a light mist blows.
I can see her slowly get wet,
stumbling she falls my way.
I'm excited, this day isn't over yet

Drip, drip, drip upon my face,
anxiously, I turn to hurry.
In my haste, he catches my waist
swallowing... I fall covertly.

Lips moisten, I pull her near
a kiss, slipped, tongues twirl,
wanton whispers whisked away,
drenched deep passion's unfurl.

A stranger's kiss upon my lips
beneath the dreary skies.
Soaking wet, I'm still on fire
He caught me by surprise.

A stranger's kiss upon my lips
beneath the queching skies.
Heaven sent, a burning desire;
she, such a welcomed surprise.

The smallest microbes cause a fit,
in misery it dwells.
It starts with sniffs and then a sneeze
then sinus membranes swell.

My head begins to throb
and soon my eyes begin to water.
I feel the clammy chills but soon
I find I'm getting hotter.

I cannot rest my head because
I think that I might drown.
You'd think they'd have a cure by now
but colds are still around.

Shall we dance to melodies
that only we can hear?
Shall we kiss in arbors green
when no one else is near?

Shall we catch a rainbow
when the storm has passed us by?
Shall we share a dream of clouds
and sail upon the sky?

Shall we listen to the leaves
'neath melancholy trees
That watch us as we use their shade
to just enjoy the breeze?

Shall we look back on the years
and sigh with mild regret
Or look toward the laughter
in the years that we have yet?

Shall we try to count the stars
that wheel above our head?
Or shall we find our sweet repose
together in our bed?

Shall we discover all the things
we've never lost?
Shall we risk our everything
and never count the cost?

Shall we count the petals
in a game of "Love's me not"?
What a waste of time is that
for answers never sought.

For I will love you, rest assure  
and if you did not know
My love for you is in all things
and it can only grow.