Hollyhocks, sandals with socks
Knickerbocker glories
Salty air, old caravans
Magical bedtime stories
Fish 'n' chips, sticks of rock
Climbing fragrant evergreens
Endless hikes, stunning views
Sandwiches with sardines
Long car rides, minor quarrels
Enid Blyton audio tapes
Forever etched in my memory  
Our annual escapes

Fall in love with baking
But understand these rules...
You will be burnt but it will be worth it
And
You will burn the occasional sponge that wasn't.
The humble effort that won't rise
CAN
be devoured with as much gusto
as any puffed up pastry,
And
Too much of the same cake
(how ever good it tastes)
Makes you lazy, boring and fat

I just spent a beautiful hour
Writing about the wine...
well it does not matter any more
It has now ****** off into an evil chip
Or an impossible to reach cloud
But the memory of writing it
Makes my heart sing loud-er than normal
Oh, how I long to recover
My Gewurztraminer verse

I used to need a submarine
to visit the dark depths of my soul
To where the bottom feeders feast
on the dead and feces from the shoal
A completely inhospitable, light-less,
savage, alien underworld
Where the spineless slimy sea cucumber
writhed, wriggled and curled.

Now I prefer to scuba dive my soul
or gaily use snorkel and flippers
Among a rich vivid abundance of life
Up and down the aqua big dippers
But I admit every now and then
at certain dark times of the year
I swim above that unforgiving trench
and can not hold back the tears

The more I read,
the more I steal
from you.

It be a cursed blade that tongue of yours
with which you cut me
Electrocution therapy, flex- relax.  
An ice cold palm with
Fingers of a white hot compass needle
Pointing me to Hell
  Each of your ten demons tormenting me,
My torn limbs bleed
Punish me for observing myself
I deserve it
Choked, knotted, bruised and at your mercy
You command me.
Towering above with your heaving *******
You are my God
Your hair- bolts of lighting- your voice- thunder.
Accept my sacrifice.