https://www.sciencephoto.com/media/312478/view/making-love
The aroma of released love dampens the bedsheets
Convulsions calm to the occasional shudder
Breath returned, eyes glazed
She’s temporarily left this world
Having known she is safely secure in his sturdy arms
She’s been conquered
Her king looks down upon her
Satisfied at another job well done
2020
The apex of insanity
Turbulent, Chaotic, Tumultuous
T ’was my zenith, however
My days of halcyon
My peak of perfection
A golden era of your eyes
Burning towards mine
Half closed as your lips inched ever so close
Glazed in a sensation of merriment
When our hearts fluttered in anticipation of the next time
And the time after that
Even the time after that
For there were to be a myriad of instances
In that most breathtaking of years
Mythical, even fictitious
That someone so spectacular
Could ever be so drawn to me
Regrettably, the inevitable occurred
Not in one single stroke
Rather, over time
The pendulum eventually sways in the other direction
Slowly, unnoticeably
Such as the earth rotates on its axis
A pendulum that promotes its personal vendetta against me
By inexplicably changing your mind
The gods of loneliness and angst always win
It’s undefeated record intact
Save for that one beautiful year in 2020
There’s an old white cape at 3 Sycamore
Built in the fifties
Four bedrooms, two stories
It’s been 30 years
I can still smell it as if I were just there
Spent most weekends there
Many overnights
Helped dad paint the first floor bedroom
Robin’s egg blue
Just seven years old in 1979
I can vividly recall “Mrs. Robinson” and “Judy in Disguise” crackling through the old portable radio
In a time they weren’t yet classics
Almost 30 years and I can still taste the ice cream from the garage freezer
The “three kinds”
Always skipped over the strawberry although some seemed to consistently seep into the desired flavors
Minor infiltration; I worked around it
The view from the second floor was splendid
Across the river, beyond the lush fields of green
Ran the old Sandgate Road
I always wondered where that road led
I still don’t know
Probably spoil the magic if I ever found out
Trips to the shopping center
About 30 minutes away
Into the huge “metropolis” of around 8,000
It’s funny how relative scarcity seems so massive in the eyes of a child
How miraculous the blue shines in the giant Woolworth sign
I can still see it
Music became my passion in that old cape
The classics were the infancy years of rock and roll
Bend the antenna just the right away and I could get the Saturday Night Oldie Show
Johnny Williams playing the hits of yesteryear
I never missed a show
Play me the opening chords of “I Only Have Eyes For You” and I can be back in the second floor bedroom at the top of the stairs
Early adolescence saw countless games of America’s pastime on the spacious front yard
Wooden bat and tennis ball
Me myself and I
Hundreds of nine inning games; many going extras
The Red Sox were world beaters on the hallowed grounds of 3 Sycamore
Even if they were middle of the pack everywhere else
Into the dirt road was a round tripper; over it concluded with a lengthy search in the briars
Wilder teen years saw my visits dwindle
Friends, parties, music, girls, and team sports got in the way
It is one of my greatest regrets
I would give anything to experience one more weekend there
It was her house
Mom’s mom
Treated like her little king
Every weekend
Her warmth influenced my inner child in a way that I can love myself
A nice counterbalance to the demons of the world
I’m sure her caring for me was just her doing what she thought she was supposed to do
Done with love, but routine just the same
Perhaps she was recounting her own happy, nostalgic childhood memories
Totally unaware she was creating mine
Stimulation Exhilaration Passion
Fulfillment Gratification At Peace
Meandering Winding Flowing
Amiss Adrift Astray
Insecure Anxious Apprehensive
Distrustful Suspicious Mistrustful
Stunned Blindsided Dismayed
Downhearted Crestfallen Despondent
Detached Emotionless Indifferent
Rally Revive Recuperate
Alone Isolated Solitary
Curious Captivated Intent
Pining Yearning Languishing
Stimulation Exhilaration Passion
Round and Round............
Certainty
Assurance
A sure thing
Traits that are sought out
Welcome
Desired
When it comes to love
Who doesn’t enjoy the occasional slam dunk?
But that’s all it is
Occasional
A rare commodity
Hardly prevalent in the real world
Outside of Hollywood
Certainty
To the contrary, I’ll live with the unknown
Not knowing how it plays out
Because to me, that’s what’s damn exciting!
One thing I’m certain of
Is that I love her touch
The way her sweet head fits when she leans into me
How she calls me “baby”
How she trusts me with intimate details about her life
No matter how unfortunate
How time spent with her goes so fast, I’m left longing for the next time
And the time after that
How she’s the first thing I think of in the morning
And the last in the evening
In hopes of a most wonderful dream
About her
I haven’t the first idea how this goes
The endgame is quite unknown
And I couldn’t care less
For I love her dearly
That’s for certain
And that’s more than enough for me
Oh, how I adore traveling obscure back roads
The rolling hills
Of farmland
Greenery as far as I can see
And the charming and picturesque quaint little towns
Where there’s but one of everything
Progress has stalled well before these places
And it’s where I want to be
The world once brimmed with these treasures
When times were much simpler
And better
When you hurt, I hurt
When you’re sad, I’m sad
When you cry, I cry
I may not show it
On the outside
I need to appear strong for you
But I’m dying on the inside
Broken bones, lost pets, broken loves
I’m there
Experiencing every emotion with you
A father’s love
Will take you through the end of my days
Sleeping
Peacefully
Not a care in the world
It has to be this way
For her tranquility
When she’s sleeping she doesn’t hurt
Tears are more difficult to manufacture when the subconscious is at rest
When she’s sleeping
Scenarios that leave her fraught with worry aren’t in play
When she’s sleeping she sees her love in a positive light
She’s free from the heartbreak of how it really is
Hate, anger, and sickness
Replaced with flowers, rainbows, and kisses
When she wakes, she’ll do so with a smile
For the magic of her dreams will still be with her
But only temporarily
Seconds, really
When reality sets in
For this is life and that is fantasy
And that is unfortunate
‘Cause it’s so much better
When she’s sleeping
Yesterdays
Hundreds of them
Hit me like a ton of bricks
When they come to the forefront
How I long for them
Grandparents, friends, lost loves
The old mall that is torn down
That old hatchback wagon
And classic songs…….
They all have a story attached to them
At least I can go back and play them
And long some more
What is it about yesterdays?
That they can do no wrong
Am I that biased?
Or were they really that perfect?
Why are they so much better than the todays and tomorrows of the world?
And someday…….
Will today (tomorrow’s yesterdays) hold that special place in my heart?
Moments
They are fleeting at best
Compared to the longevity of time
Even our best ones
The ones that leave us most euphoric
Eventually rendered memories
They may make us smile
But they’re not present
Best enjoy
Those moments
In the now
Whipped Owl 