A Wizard gave my cousin two choices, become an ogre or praise the new Doctor Who.
It took less than five seconds for him to choose what to do.
He chose to become an ugly green ogre even though it will be for the remainder of his days.
He chose to be an ogre because the new Doctor Who TV show isn't something he'll ever praise.
He became an ogre two years ago and this morning I learned that he doesn't regret it.
He doesn't regret his choice even though he's so ugly that he makes Shrek look like Brad Pitt.
When he was given the choices, he was expected to praise the new Doctor Who.
He has always loved the original Doctor Who TV show but he sure does hate the new.

I guess I’ll see you again
In two or more years.
Unless you come for Christmas,
I’ll shed many tears.

Dearest cousin, please understand
You were my best friend
While I was missing my other ones.
Why should it end?

The first two lines of a poem comes to mind
When I think about you;
“Miss you, miss you, miss you,
Everything I do.”

So raise a glass to this summer
And all these memories.
And I hope we’ll meet at Christmas
Oh please, please, please.

She looks up
Blinking at the ringlets that suddenly flop into her curious gaze
Gazing down at the strange cracks in the bench in which one’s toes invariably find themselves wedged
Reaching out at the twitching nostril of my stunned ten year old brother
Pointing at the strange piece of white cheese in the sky whose name seems to imitate a cow
Knocking off the hat that seems to magically appear on one’s head and frowning at the peal of laughter following it
Calling out to her father and chewing on the hem of his trousers when he seems to find guests more interesting than his one year old daughter
My cousin is in her own little world

We never said goodbye.
We never had the chance.
We thought we’d see eachother soon
But now we can’t.

She said she’d be here now
But sometimes things go wrong.
I wish we could meet again
Before I’m up and gone.

Yeah, I saw my cousin today again after 2 years.
it was fun/

We sit there in the morning,
Me in your shirt, you slipping on mine,
Cold coffee in a cup I know you'll leave
But I give to you any way (it's tradition).
We spent last night inches apart
So close that our hair might have switched
Or your eyesight sharpen and mine diminish
To swap our pupils round.
We chew the names of old friends out like popcorn
Barely a breath given to any individual-
Me asking about yours, you teasing about mine
The two of us (mostly) never not in agreement.
It's been this way, one might say,
For 14 years and a little over that, too,
Not that I remember clutching your hand as we lay
Belly to belly on a baby rug with our parents watching.
Your smell becomes mine, so I associate it with home-
Sweet and fresh like candy tulips and soap.

We may as well be one; this is how little our paths diverge.

There for each other
Thick and thin
They always show up
No matter where you’ve been
They help you when the going gets tough
She is who I look up to
She can always cheer me up
When I’m feeling blue
Built-in best friends

you were supposed to be here
death gasped you faster than I ever could
I regret the moment thinking it would be longer
It's not fair for someone's future to be taken away so quickly
You deserved the sun and the moon
But instead you were given to the stars
I miss you Gracie Mae...

Most of my relatives are distant,
But some have the ability
To bring me into an elevenses of life,
And one particular person
Is my cousin, Teresa.

I call her Terry for short.
That doesn't change how spectacular she is
To me, though!

Terry and her family traditionally visit my family
To ring in the New Year.

This New Year, just on a ten-minute car ride to a local town,
Terry talked to me about her plans for her birthday,
And her favorite books to read as of lately:
Weedly-Deedly (about a nice dragon)
And PuddleBooks, which include children characters
Such as Yolanda Yells-A-Lot.
A year or two backward,
I wouldn't have taken the topic so seriously
As I am one to easily laugh about anything
Depending on what thoughts are in my mind usually.
However, as long as I don't know fully the plot, the scenes
Of what happens in such fiction as the PuddleBooks series,
I am clueless to the lessons and learnings
I could easily miss.
There should be a warning everywhere
Not to look down on what we think we outgrow
As long as lessons are everywhere
For all ages.

There was also a time,
Many moons ago,
When my aunt had the cousins arranged
Seated on a couch
For a picture or two.
I became irritated and uncomfortable
Being claustrophobically shoulder-squished.
Upset, I curled on the floor and cried
In front of everyone in the room.
The first gesture that Terry offered me
Was a hand to pull me up from the carpet,
Of which I accepted,
Like a ***** toward a penetratingly loving Samaritan.

Before my relatives departed today,
My aunt told me how stellar Terry's memory is
And can be.
My aunt backed her claim strongly
By telling me how Terry remembered a quiet morning
Where she and I were the only ones awake
And I made waffles for her.

You don't have to go to a concert
To make special memories.
You're not required to know all
Or be all
To be recognized.
And my cousin Terry, alive and well,
An interactor for sure,
Doesn't need the sky
To be a soul of sunshine.