Have faith in the fuzzies;

Bear with me while I

Make myself

Useful

May I offer you a giggle? A chuckle? A smile?

A memory

A tiny me

So silly

You and me

LISTENING

Know that I am simply listening

To invisible people talking to me

Pulling faces at me

Making funny gestures in front of me

These days he loiters

In Lounge Trousers.

How many little girls did he stalk between rails of clothing?

Elsewhere?

His shy smile, his skin like a perfect summer-beach.

Sunblonde hair.

Wind-mussed curls

Taut with seasalt.

Now I play catch up

Running with wide-eyed wonder

I know it’s mean to let it rip,

But my ex-husband was quite a drip.

Not in the way you might suppose,

His looks were good, he wore nice clothes.

“We did research, real serious stuff,

And found a need for frothy fluff.

Literary snobs can eat their hats,

In black and white we’ve got the stats!”

Beyond fear

A prayer finds me

And carries my plea

A million miles away

But may we rise in kindness.

Always.

A TINY SPRING POEM, THE PROMPT : WATCHING

“More cream I must quickly put on,

That Hollywood one, I know it’s strong.

I’ll rub lots in, I will be fine,

And forget about it with some wine.”

Yet I have the power

To bring him to me in an ugly room full of poker-faced strangers.

I close my eyes and find him, this beautiful boy.

MLCC sounds quite edgy,

A band you’d see on MTV.

Reality disappoints somewhat,

Just plain old inflammation in the gut.

Grandma, such a glamourpuss,

Had famous friends, Brigitte Bardot.

My tables went into one ear,

Then out the other, maths diarrhea!

Sunrays whirl piercing the black,

A stage set for an opera.

“Those sneaky frogs had waterbeds,

They used our lily pads for sex!

We had to act, this was a bitch!

Now tadpoles swam among the fish!