Quote: I don't want a perfect life I want a happy life

Children tumbling out of bed
coffee dripping from my old faded percolator
Stockings hanging from the shower curtain
mother's laughter from across the miles
Husband's wet kisses and the shuffle of feet
scraped toast, slamming front doors
The smell of mulched leaves
the way the sun slants over my kitchen window
I don't want a perfect life, just a happy one
Empty cafes and smokescreen writes
pulp fiction and doggie smiles and treats
eggs over easy and difficult puzzles to solve
hugs and kisses and fun between the sheets
tea for two, I love Lucy, and more dreams
then I can ever dream, just a happy life,
nothign more...

I hear the echoes of yesterday's callings
like a soft longing from a long ago ghost
The emerald forest of my youth re-appears
at the sight of a midnight cadence;
Mystical night dreams reiterate  
like an incantation from long ago,
Forgotten Sepulchers...
Tunnels of earth wind and fire burn my desire
once again, as I perch onto the matrix of solid bark
the silence is almost deafening'  
I hear the fairies call with their gentry of good will,
"we guiders of soul have come to take you home"
and as I walk through their fragrant gate,  
I know from my heart of hearts, that I belong here  
In their forest of dreams .

A night fairy fantasy with a magic blue umbrella
levitating into a phantasmal world of silver dragon flies  
She is a Fairy Damsel with 24 gold petals  
Dancing to the spellbinding tune of a Pixie brigadoon
she is unaffected by time in this far remote little place,
where everything is left behind, even reality.  
Enter into the Sanctuary of  pure Make Believe ...
Just like Mary Poppins who was wind blown from the east
you too can be transported into a time and place
where magic is sprinkled with elective grace ;
A six inch Fairy with a whimsical pose
is calling out to  you o'er a flaming cauldron,  
Two dragonfly wings and a touch of fairy dust
here take a sip or two, if you find it too strong we can always adjust.

September hues of school day smiles and bran new leather bags
creative minds as young as baby figs with eager hearts of lore  
My days were full with mischief makers and bragging scalawags
but as the evening fell it was dad and I and paper planes galore

Lined creased papers pressed against father's smoky fingers strong
a wide tooth grin that said it all, while folding them in Ludwig style
Symmetrical wings shaped at the edge to fly through standby throng      
inside a backyard airfield 16x24, .. we launched then bridged a mile

One was  shaped like a prayer mantis one was fashioned like a jet  
homework waited as we glided through a glide-path then a runway
Aerobatic landings that were much more thrilling, then a Lego set
oh the wanders of those days when we both knew, how to play.  

August 13, 2022

There beyond the afterlife a glimpse of a passing star
an orbing light that flickers in submergence with the dawn
The memories of a life exuding all that none can mar
a revival of affection, in shades of gold and brawn

Way down yonder my lonely thoughts explore      
aside your Divine Light and Radiance
this hungry heart is wanting more    
I dip inside a memory like an old romance  

Dancing dreams of lovers flickering so bright  
a pacification of senses, I am bathed in your light
there beyond the afterlife a glimpse, a shooting star
I would love to meet you once again but you live way to far.

On the brush of morning a wisp of air
a tendril round my senses, like sweet perfume
Liquid skies that move with the waves
of a soft whispering wind
Calling the birds of the air, calling butterflies;
Each jostled thought calms as my remote lips  
cup and my eyes feast on a clear view
of one Godly, beautiful day*

Special calls from ancient pine trees with arms
loaded with pinecones and sentinel scents
My oh my, how I love the early morning
with all its aerate lawns and flower beds

First glance, first kiss, first contact
nature is cupping her velvet ear and
listening to me, truly listening;

As I gulp each morsel of peace it imparts,
I know without doubt that have been
truly love, this very morning.

On the brush of morning a wisp of air
a tendril round my senses, like sweet perfume
Liquid skies that move with the waves
of a soft whispering wind
Calling the birds of the air, calling butterflies;
Each jostled thought calms as my remote lips  
cup and my eyes feast on a clear view
of one Godly, beautiful day*

Special calls from ancient pine trees with arms
loaded with pinecones and sentinel scents
My oh my, how I love the early morning
with all its aerate lawns and flower beds

First glance, first kiss, first contact
nature is cupping her velvet ear and
listening to me, truly listening;

As I gulp each morsel of peace it imparts,
I know without doubt that have been
truly love, this very morning.