Sometimes I wonder if I'll find a love
That buys me roses every Monday
Even after fifty years,
Or walks across a thousand miles
To deliver a snowbound love letter,
Or drives six hours as a surprise
To attend a Sadie Hawkins dance --
And then I think I'll be content
With someone who calls every once in a while.

Once upon a time, there was me:
A simpleton of no account,
A dunderhead by word of mouth,
An addle-pate, a cracking crock,
A crazy who deserved a lock.
Not pretty, brainy, or well-bred,
Bespectacled, a short redhead
With hands too small and far too pink
Who’d trip or fall as soon as think.
Not many prospects, they declared
With such conviction I was scared.
But the cast was short one role,
The one who’d make the halfwit whole . . .

Once upon a time, there was you:
A lord of state, of high esteem,
The answer to each maiden’s dream,
A strong man, raven-haired, and tall?
No, not this person, not at all.
You had glasses just like me,
And freckles where your skin should be.
Your clothes were rumpled, torn and tattered
Not as though that even mattered:
You walked on set and came to me
You got down on one gawky knee
You took my pink hand in your red
And, as you fixed your glasses, said:
“I love your hands, your height, your hair,
I love you up, down, everywhere.
And I hesitate to ask you this . . .
But could I maybe have a kiss?”
And, for once, my tactless lips
Did not resort to stumbling slips;
I gave you one, I gave you two,
I gave every kiss I had to you.

Once upon a time, there was us:*
Two simpletons of no repute
Two dunderheads whose names were moot:
Prince Not-So-Charming and his *****.
And much as cynics tried to drench
The flames of addle-pated glee
I found in you and you in me,
As much as they enjoyed pretending,
They could not harm our happy ending.

The father stares, bloodshot, egg-yolk eyes glistening
As he waits for his baby woman daughter to quiver
And melt into the **** of the bedroom carpet
Under the heat of his betrayed and angry gaze.
And he waits.
And he waits.

I know that I’m not what you want,
But here’s my shoulder now
To lean on. Break it with your weight –  
I’ll steady you somehow.

I know that I’m not what you need,
My arms can’t bear your load;
They’re weak, but look – my legs are strong!
I’ll walk you down this road.

And if we come across your monsters,
Though I can’t fight, I’ll be your shield.
And if you trip on past emotions,
I will hold you ‘til you’re healed.

Because I’m shallow, weak, and useless,
I cannot understand –
But I can listen to your stories
And I can hold your hand.

I pray God sends the person who
Will save you from your fear.
But, until you find your savior,
Know that I am here.

I am a deep green 'L' with traces of gold and red.
I sound like a babbling brook or, better, a book
Because books sound like smiles and tears,
Which taste like snowshowers and chocolate kisses.
Chocolate reminds me of the number eight,
Which feels warm and spicy and rather yellow,
Like the song "Somewhere Over The Rainbow".
Rainbows feel misty like the edge of the universe,
Which definitely is a hue of blue, much like you,
Because blue sounds cheerful and solemn
Like a bagpipe or the Mona Lisa,
But with a smidgen of whistling in the rain mixed in,
Just to make you smell even better.

Mincing words and little smiles
Not too much teeth
A delicate flutter of the fingers
And a calculated toss of the hair
Over a craftily twitched shoulder
Take small steps
And be sure to swing your hips -
But not too much

Dear God, the claustrophobic prison
Of tiny, perfect words and
Tiny, perfect movements
You've created for yourself!
Let me scare away every man I meet
Before I put myself in such a little box,
Easily picked up, easily toted,
. . . easily discarded.

I will be me, loud and obnoxious,
I will dance in the middle of the street,
I will wave to random passersby,
I will wear funny hats and bright red boots,
I will carry plates of food on my head,
I will laugh as loudly as I want,
And I will be loved for who I am,
Or not at all.