Tag Archives: romantic poem

Literalists

“I would slay a dragon for you!” said he from out of the blue his lilting voice a hopeful spontaneous, off-hand musing had him hoping for more as she looked up from her paperback mystery romance “There are no dragons” … Continue reading

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Oath of June

“Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?” “I do.” “You may now kiss the bride. Liar.”

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Like son, like father

The daughter of close friends looks at my son like that they have known each other since first grade – a time when looking at each other like that would have been unthinkable; icky, gross…dis-GUS-ting! Now she looks at him … Continue reading

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Outside the lines

You opened me like a book thumbed through the pages of boldly outlined pictures mercurially finding one you chose your weapon from boxed arsenal; a sharp one, new to the point and unused you are the 64-box of Crayola’s using … Continue reading

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Antipasto!

Dinner with my Valentine; wine and Sinatra Fine haiku-be-do-be-do…

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Mental matinee

Less frequently but with far more purpose, much sharper focus than my younger, more myopic days my workday mind meanders from the daily mundane to stray to tantalizing, sometimes R-rated thoughts, possibilities for later cerebral erotica starring my oh-so- vixenish-after-twenty-years wife … Continue reading

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shorthand

text wife: ‘Dory?’ It cannot also be ‘hunky’ as I am elsewhere

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“…yon window breaks”

Light tumbles from her window staining the grass below; elongated rectangle of bright green in the night a trap-door of illumination I want to step on, fall through, down; down into the dusty cellar where she waits by that light.

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D-M-V (Love is… #30)

Love is a driver’s license photo You know who the person in the picture is – sort of, maybe you think it is you – your glazed eye, mug-shot provenance makes even you double-check triple-check yourself in the mirror the … Continue reading

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Salonica, goneica

She loves me, she loves me not Played that game as a kid, for fun with and without the flower, played it frequently later, for keeps Won once or twice I have over picked my life’s quota of prophetic daisies, … Continue reading

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