happy

Possibly

I have to write a poem so I can’t come to bed yet
But I thought I’d get in and cuddle for a bit
That should surely inspire you she says
Possibly is my instant deadpan reply
Spontaneous laughter spills from us
That may be your best poem ever
We’ll see how inspired I am
More laughter then silence
And silent cuddling
And sweet kisses
Good night
My love
Poem

Lost Time Hello

Wait for me on the corner my love
The walk is long but with each breath
Every step I’m closer to your touch hello

I make my way remembering your hello
The first night I knocked before our love
Was born our wary glances nervous breath

I quicken my pace my heart rate my breath
All faster as I rush for your sweet smile hello
Last turn maddening crowd searching love

All this time now just breath hello my love

Pierre Morning

Pierre the cat was my alarm clock this morning
Like every morning 5:20 AM the onslaught
Starts not so much a ringing siren as a carefully
Thought out plan like a military exercise first
Comes peering into my face from the maximum
6-inch distance his blurry face maybe a mirage
But no next he’s gently touching my cheek then
Forehead with mostly clawless kindly placed
Paw pats I’m determined today to ignore but
Rub his cinnamon paws scratch under his chin
As a sign I’m not happy with this early morning
Attention though sometimes I’ll stoically pull
The sheet over my head to show I’m serious
About sleep but the next step is the most peculiar
He circles around behind me and combs through
My hair like Gore Vidal with partially extended
Comb claws to tenderly untangle a perfectly sized
Clump to bite a tug yes that’s right he pulls my
Hair in a choreographed dance that includes light
Claw scratches on skull followed by tugging a
Mouthful sized lock this entire routine’s endgame
Is a trip to the kitchen to fill his bowl with a quarter
Cup of kibble then hurry back to bed before fully alert
Love this short-lived dozy lull enjoy while it lasts
As now Pierre (and his satisfied belly) moseys back
Silently springs then hovers to pat my face again
“Don’t you want your coffee now?” he implores
In squeaking Pierre talk not a meow but a squeak
“Have you ever known a cat to squeak?” I ask
“I’ve never met a cat like Pierre” is the reply
As his completely relaxed baby cradled body
Rumbles in a purr fest and I kiss his forehead

Happy Flowers

“This makes me happy” I say “Yay” comes the response
I carry a pitcher of water outside soaking the large
Full pot of classic cranberry geraniums lavishly overflowing
Tin trough with thick rope handles and drilled drain holes

This is a day I cherish my annual trip to the garden store
Filling my rear hatch no room to spare every inch a burst
Of color crimson coral plum rose white each beauty carefully
Chosen with a preordained place a specific summer spot

Growing and blooming prompts the seasons morning ritual
Early cool shimmering dew sparkling water brilliant days
Puttering pruning breathing sipping sitting appreciating
Serene smile daily send off “This makes me Happy” I say

Coffee Time

Sacred coffee time daily meditation, awakening
Lifetime love never wanes dark bold robust rich
Hot with milk dark khaki mahogany perfection warms
Daybreak sunroom overlook coffee spot sanctum

Grazing deer ahead of bluebirds cardinals yellowest finches
Or deck cozy comfort with green woods view glistening pool
Fresh air breathing blanket cuts chill but always the
Coffee love life’s smallest daily pleasure my cup of happiness