love

Jen and Ben #3 – Dad’s Day

Wakey! – Wakey!  it’s morning time.
So says the clock and its chime.
It wakes the twins up every day.
It lets them know it’s time to play.

Jen’s up first, been awake since dawn.
Ben is next after a stretch and yawn.
Kitty’s last with a scratch and a purr.
All’s ready for breakfast that’s for sure.

Today’s milk and toast with jam for Jen.
Always cereal with berries for Ben.
Mom has a muffin and Dad has two.
Kitty has fish and seafood stew.

Mom works today and Dad stays home.
Dad likes to read while Ben likes to roam.
Kitty likes newspaper, but just to chew.
Jen helps dad find where Ben went to.

Ben was found hiding under a sheet.
Couldn’t see his head but saw his feet.
Ben’s much faster than dad believed.
Everyone laughed, Dad was relieved.

Jen picks the clothes, it’s time to get dressed.
Tee shirts and shorts is what they like best.
Sneakers or sandals, that’s hard to decide.
They bring them both and choose on the ride.

They park in the shade near the swing.
It’s a bright sunny day and the birdies sing.
Ben tries to whistle just like the birds.
Jen makes up a song and sings the words.

Dad took a picture with his new phone.
The twins want one, but not ‘till they’re grown.
Ben wants red and Jen wants white.
With a bright shiny light to light up the night.

Jen takes a picture of Ben and dad.
Then tries another because Ben looks sad.
Ben snaps a shot of Jen and dad.
Dad sends them to mom and everyone’s glad.

Dad turns on the speaker to hear mom talk.
All chatted merrily, until Jen takes a walk.
But Jen’s not lost, she’s on the slide.
Ben got scared, he almost cried.

Dad was glad, but a little bit mad.
Jen had to sit and talk to dad.
Ben sat too and gazed to the skies.
Jen rolled in the grass, dad rolled his eyes.

Now all three lay in the tall cool grass.
Watching the clouds and birdies pass.
Jen likes the birds and sings them her song.
She gets up to dance and Ben sings a long.

“Birdies, birdies in the sky,
When I get big I hope to fly.
I’ll fly to grandmas that’ll be great.
I’ll fly all day, but won’t be home late”

Dad starts to whistle Jen’s catchy tune.
Ben tries too and catches on soon.
Jen stomps her feet, her lips are stuck.
She tries and tries without any luck.

They all take a break and sit back down.
Dad helps Jen with her whistling sound.
Now everyone’s happy, the sun smiles bright.
But now’s time to go and make supper for tonight.

The twins both love to play in the park.
If they could they would stay until dark.
But mom’s home soon and they love her more.
There’s hugs and kisses that wait at the door.

Now back in the car and ready to go.
But lunch-time traffic makes the trip slow.
The twins in the back make funny faces.
Dad’s up front, pretending he races.

The trip was long but not very far.
Everyone’s glad to be out of the car.
There’s lunches to make and naps to take.
So we’ll see you all later when the twins awake.

to be continued…

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Jen & Ben’s Afternoon

Jen & Ben – Part 2

~

Back in the car, strapped in their seat

Mom weaves through the lot onto the street

There’s bunches more cars than before

It’ll be a long ride home, that’s for sure

.

Jen’s dozing off with the music down low

Ben tries not to, but he’s starting to go

Mom takes a corner onto their street

Ben perks up, kicking his feet

 .

Today’s long journey was soon to end

Jen wakes up and sees a friend

There are smiles and waves all around

Everyone’s friends in their little town

 .

Jen sees a school bus and wave’s hello

Ben asks mom why they didn’t go

Mom explains that they’ll go soon

Jen wants to go that afternoon

 .

Mom pulls in the drive they unpack the car

Then a break for all, mom plays her guitar

Jen starts dancing, Ben plays drums

Table-top thumping with fingers and thumbs

 .

Now upside down, the hands on the clock

Soon dad will be home and we’ll take a walk

But first is supper and the twins can’t wait

Tonight’s twisty spaghetti’s that’ll be great

 .

Jen likes them cut with not much sauce

Ben likes them long, to slurp of course

There’s green beans and bread on the side

With glasses of milk for pink smiles wide.

 .

Now’s time for dessert, it’s pie with fruit

Mom’s whip cream nose is extra cute

Jen tries it too then Ben and dad

The funniest dessert they’ve ever had.

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Now’s time to clean up then a short walk

Back at home they make puzzles and talk

The twins get sleepy, bath time’s soon

It’s time to wash off their fun afternoon

 .

Now’s time for bed, time to choose, no concern

Whether the top or bottom, each has a turn

The top has adventures, but dark at night

The bottom’s bunk cozy with never a fright

 .

Ben gets the top, he’s thinking of space

Jen picks the bottom, her quiet place

Mom reads a book, Ben watches the moon

Jens eyes start to close, all to dream soon

 .

Now dad comes in, his turn at dishes done

But everyone’s too tired to have more fun

He reads the last pages of the twin’s new book

Then kisses goodnight, mom takes a last look

 .

Kitty’s close by on her window sill

Dad flicks the switch and all is still

The twins now asleep in their night lights glow

Dreaming of stories they’ll share – tomorrow

 ~

To be continued…

* 

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Jen and Ben

Jen and Ben, they’re a silly pair,

they are twins with bright red hair.

One wears it short the other long.

One’s always right, one’s never wrong.

 .

They’ve been together since day one,

always happy, always fun.

They dress the same most every day,

pj’s for bed and overalls for play.

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One is bright and one is sunny.

One’s more sweet, one’s more funny.

Both love to giggle all the time.

Or they sing loudly, a nursery rhyme.

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One likes to run, one likes to jump.

One gets a bruise the other a bump.

In the backyard, their favorite place,

Today’s the day for the big race.

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Teddy’s in the carriage, pushed too fast.

Bunny’s in the wagon soon to be past.

The tree is near, the race is done,

It’s a tie, they both won.

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Now mom’s calling, time to eat,

something yummy then a treat.

First a wash of hands and a comb of hair,

then mom helps them up into the chair.

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Yeah! It’s celery sticks with peanut butter,

then an oatmeal cookie like no other.

Mom baked them fresh, just today,

with raisins and nuts, just our way.

 .

Then it’s time to help mom clean,

There’s never a spill or crumb to be seen.

Then the pair find pillows to share,

for a nap with bunny and bear.

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Snuggling atop their blanket for two,

Mom reads aloud something that’s new.

But first funny faces silence then yawns,

followed by dreams of swings and lawns.

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But a nap’s never long when kitty’s about,

A nose-tickling tail serves as a shout.

The twins awake in a flash, ready to play.

But mom has some errands to do today.

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First a surprise, a trip to the park,

the twin’s sleepy faces light with a spark.

There are swings there and a tall slide.

Jen climbs bars, Ben finds places to hide.

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They see other kids who know their names.

Then together they play jumping games.

Ben jumps high and Jen jumps far.

They all jump together back to the car.

 .

Mom hops in and turns the radio up.

Jen plays drums on her sippy-cup.

Ben sings along snug in his car-seat.

All banded together to a favorite beat.

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Then off to the store and away they go,

reading the signs that they all know.

Ben gets excited by a speedy fire truck.

Jen giggles at a waddling road crossing duck.

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They stop at a light that’s yellow then red.

Green means go! – to the store just ahead.

The wheels turn and blinkers blink,

Mom hit a bump, Ben spilled his drink.

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Parked in the lot mom finds a cart,

with a wobbly wheel and a shaky start.

Through the door that opens like magic.

Ben waves his arm, pretending it’s his trick.

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Their carriage a fortress, tank and ship,

sailing down aisles in search of bean dip.

With Jen in the seat and Ben in the back,

they guard the goodies in case of attack.

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Jen checks off the list and grabs for a treat.

Sometimes mom finds them under the seat.

The breads now a pillow for Ben’s sleepy head.

So Jen gets to pick the new book to be read.

 .

At the check-out they chat with some friends.

Mom’s chat with the grocer never ends.

The carriage ride bumpy back to the car.

But that’s okay it isn’t too far.

.

Plus there’s a hill that goes that way.

So mom jumps on and we all get to play.

Everybody helps putting bags in the back.

Then a surprise, it’s a new kind of snack.

 .

They both get a straw for juice to share.

A flavor for each of the silly pair,

one likes the lemon and the other lime.

But that’s a story for another time.

.

To be continued…

~ 

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Java Java Java

My silent alarm, works every day.

Dreams of coffee wafting my way.

I get up quick to make water hot.

Then longingly watch the drips in the pot.

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When half way full the process proceeds.

The quest begins for the rest of my needs,

A big cup, of course, some sugar and cream.

And something to stir a new coffee dream.

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My brew perks away then perks me up.

There’s nothing better than a second cup.

To sip and to savor and share the sunrise.

The beauty’s doubled with wide open eyes.

 .

I think it’s the drink I drink the most,

Columbian, Sumatra or a dark French Roast.

Whole-bean or ground, instant or drip,

They all taste great from the very first sip.

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Winter hands on a hot mug are nice.

In the summer it’s refreshing with ice,

Or a flavorful syrup or tasty ice cream.

Chocolate covered beans, better than they’d seem.

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Coffee’s always dessert after desserts.

But it can stain teeth, pants and shirts.

A treat always perfect to end a long day,

A book, a snack and a decaf, my way.

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Huddled comfy in a favorite chair,

Sharing the quiet with a loved-one near.

Til pages blur and sleepy eyes meet,

Then goodnight kisses and a last sip that’s sweet.

…

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https://www.tumblr.com/teaberrybee/104066178111/a-collaboration-between-two-partners-in-rhyme

A Poet’s Desire

~

If I could turn my words into the finest wine

We’d sail on those balmy seas until the end of time

If I could print money on all the paper that I use

Our sky would rain confetti any time you choose

~

If my wishes granted for all that I desire

We’d spent our moonlit evenings cuddled by a fire

And if my fantasies could ever be reality

All I’d ever need is for you to be with me.

~*~

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I Saw Today

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(Memories of birthdays past)

* 

I saw today my baby’s start

 Opened her eyes and stole my heart

 ~

 I saw today her smile at me

 We brought her home, safe as can be

 ~

 I saw today her tucked in bed

 Gently leaned over to kiss her head

 ~

 I saw today my baby weep

 Snuggled her gently back to sleep

 ~

 I saw today my baby eat

 Covered from head to little feet

 ~

 I saw today my baby sit

 Then fell over in a giggle fit

~ 

 I saw today my baby crawl

 Tried to escape down the hall

 ~

 I saw today my baby stand

 Holding my finger in her hand

 ~

 I saw today my baby walk

 Then soon after began to talk

 ~

 I saw today my baby run

 Laughing and screaming, having  fun

 ~

 I saw today her surprise art

 The wall and it shall never part

 ~

 I saw today her bruise her knee

 Climbed too high and fell from the tree

 ~

 I saw today her play tattoo

 0n her belly, red, green and blue

~

I saw today her find a cat

Opened the door and that was that

~ 

I saw today her ride a bike

Though too young to be off  her  trike

 ~

I saw today she learned to swim

Tub’s full, splashes over the rim

 ~

I saw today her play a song

Tiny violin with bow so long

~ 

I saw today my baby grew

She had to shop for something new

 ~

I saw today her off to school

Not holding hands, acting cool

 ~

I saw today she was funny

On the coach napping with bunny

 ~

I saw today her go to the dance

Just for fun and not for romance

~ 

I saw today her drive a car

I hope she doesn’t go too far

 ~

I saw today her graduate

Then off to college, she’ll do great

~

I saw today my baby grown

Off to the city, on her own

 ~

I saw today her new career

Making art for people to wear

 ~

I saw today she’s just like us

The best of both, with little fuss

*

The Beginning

~*~

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Today’s Poem

Today’s poem’s a mixed bag of thought,
overwhelmed with input this poet fraught.
Barraged by beginnings, none’s caught,
words forged honesty’s wrought.

Hours fly, seconds’ drag, a minute sought.
Dreaming recollections, time’s bought.
Feelings unchanged, thinking’s naught.
Patience perseveres, love has taught.

~*~
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Contrasts

I need a new color or maybe a sound.
I need something to get my head off the ground.
High in the clouds is where I should be.
Soaring with eagles; majestic and free.
~
Exploring a world where peace is the norm.
A place where everyone survives the storm.
A place where kids all laugh and parents sing.
Where old folks still giggle on the backyard swing.
~
We’ve no need for bombs, guns or war.
We’ll all have love, can’t hurt, can cure.
Oh, What a place this world could be.
If only that eagle, were you and me.

~*~
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Sandbox

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Shades of blue peeking through gray

Spring is here and outside we’ll play

First thing I’ll do is hug my tree

It’s waited alone all winter for me

~

In my backyard under that tree

Is my most favorite place to be

Swing’s on one side, sandbox the other

And a house above for my big brother

~

I’ll fly for a while on my swing

And listen to the birdies sing

Then to the place I love the best

Where I can build castles or take a rest

~

My sandbox is this magic place

A shipwreck beach or planet in space

It’s a summer toy box in my backyard

And cleaning up is never hard

~

Though last summer we made a big mess

I played in the mud in my best dress

We found a small puddle, my friend and I

The last thing needed for our mud pie

~

First scooped with shovels, most was spilled

Thought of a bucket, then soon filled

A couple of pails and puddle’s dry

But the sand’s to soupy for our mud pie

~

So we dug in the yard to get more sand

The sand was brown, squishy in hand

But it was fun, mushy and wet

A sandbox time we’ll never forget

~

Then my brother jumped in with a splash

Mud flew high, our clothes where trash

Then mom came out, we thought she’s mad

Till she hosed us down, now we’re all glad

~*~

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It’s All Pluckin’ Good

Hello friend, can you please spare a buck?
Sorry for asking but I’m down on my luck.
The wife kicked me out and kept my old truck.
She smashed my guitar, now I’ve nothin’ to pluck.
~
She said I’m lazy and got no ambition.
I said her happiness is my only mission.
I do what I can, but ain’t no magician.
Tell ya the truth I’d rather be fishin’.
~
But she kept my rods too, locked in the shed.
And she found all the money hid under the bed.
She threw the good pan right at my head.
She mighta been pretty but she ain’t well bred.
~
She’s as strong as an ox, same size too.
She wears a men’s size twelve shoe.
And when she smiles my brain turns to goo.
But she’s gone now, I’ll have to make do.
~
Just a buck, friend, that’s all I need.
I’d ask for more but that be greed.
I don’t need much, I’m easy to feed.
I can’t be a beggar, but I will plead.
~
Thank you, friend, for sparing that buck.
I’m thinkin’ this is a change in my luck.
I can walk, damn it, I don’t need no truck.
Thank you, friend, for returning my pluck.

~*~
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Summer To Fall

In these changing times,
minds cannot stay still.
Violence spreads like wildfire,
testing our strength and will.
~
Thought’s our only guide,
misguided we are lost.
Shooting from the hip,
destruction is the cost.
~
Love is shared by all,
hearts beat their choice.
Hate is the divider,
drowning out our voice.
~
High upon a tightrope,
this world can feel small.
Balance is required,
the option is we fall.

~*~
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None Amiss

It was a rainy night at the beach.
Wishing a walk but out of reach.
The sun set, the stars slept.
The moon hid and the clouds wept.

The quiet masked in crashing seas.
And a little chill rides the breeze.
Yet warmth’s felt hand in hand.
Memories tickle of toes in the sand.

The nights wish changed when we kissed.
The stars will return, tonight unmissed.

~*~
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Makes My Head Spin

I watched the sun rise,
with big sleepy eyes,
while I wait for the day to begin.

There’s a chill in the air,
but warmth’s always there,
from a heart that lies within.

Soon I will see,
what love’s meant to be,
with a simple touch of your skin.

Thoughts start to flow,
on paper they grow,
my lips form a grin.

Thinking of you,
and for me what you do,
today I’m sure to win.

~*~
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To Day

Today will be different than yesterday.
Yesterday was sunny, today it’s gray.
Yesterday was warm with skies of blue.
Today is rainy and there’s nothing to do.
~
Oh, I’ve projects o’many, my list is long.
The radio blasts yet another old song.
With pencil in hand my mind goes astray.
I’ll scribble on paper things I don’t say.
~
Today will be different, I’ve changes to make.
Yesterday was wasted, but I did buy a rake.
Yesterday’s gone, its memory will wane.
Today is here and I’ve a future to gain.
~
I’ve done some bad, but mostly good deeds.
Now I’ve all the things that one really needs.
And for love, joy, health and youth I’m glad.
I scribble today: three out of four ain’t bad.

~*~
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Mind Over Maturity

Whilst all the young may have youth,
not all the youthful young.
Youth’s not measured by our age,
or the passions we engage.

~

It’s not about time at all,
or being big or being small.
It’s not a question of maturity,
rock star travel or annuity.

~

It’s the way we feel and perceive,
of life’s fascinations to conceive,
hopes, dreams and wishes to believe,
it’s how we love and how we grieve.

~

A youthful heart’s quick to mend,
quick to receive, give and lend.
Wonders abound in youthful eyes,
birds soar higher in bluer skies.

`

Yet youth is stolen by the fiendish lie,
That getting older is preparing to die.

`

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Magic Carpet

~

Full moon’s high in my window pane,

a sleepless night yet again.

I think of what that old moon’s seen,

and the billions of days in-between.

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Billions of stories it could share.

But few like grandma’s can compare.

Her life began long, long ago.

Raised in places few ever know.

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In forests, jungles and never-ending plains,

there were exotic cities and quiet country lanes.

Naturalist nurtured traversing the globe,

her parents explorers and professors in robes.

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She too attended their university,

majoring, of course, in anthropology.

She graduated at the very top of her class.

Then returning to a high mountain pass.

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A place where dear friends made, one nevermore,

new will be made though not as before.

For the sisterly love they both did share,

her dowry passed from generations with care.

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Their rug was presented for the mutual esteem,

more cherished than a simple weaving would  seem.

With sheep twists dyed and hands knotting all day,

life’s artful history’s made to give, barter or pray.

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That winter spent mourning by choice and terrain.

Gram then ventured east with the new spring rain.

Her path soon ended on a long Pacific beach,

her life of the past now far out of reach.

.

She then called upon as never before.

She volunteered proudly as a nurse in the war.

Through years of blood, pain and tears she served,

refusing all the medals and honors deserved.

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Though her true love was found slumped on a cot,

they soon returned home, where time was forgot.

Gramps got better and a new family sown.

their many shared scars were never to be shown.

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Her old rug was placed by hearth and chest,

each full of stories though not all are best.

It’s a place we’d sit to hear grandma recall,

sometimes a place to do nothing at all.

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So I tip-toed downstairs since sleep no option,

I’ll rest on that rug where dreams are begun.

It’s where secrets are shared and magic seen,

then a place for relaxing time in-between.

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Once sewn as a bag keeping safe, precious things.

It’s been many a blanket with a picnic to bring.

It’s been a shawl in the cold and hood in the rain –

and a comfy pillow on the overnight train.

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Adventures had in time that’s flown,

together worn from long years grown.

This rug’s grandma’s confidant and oldest friend,

soaring together their wove lives transcend.

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Though colors now faded, ends torn and frayed,

beauty more timeless cannot be remade.

And when the winds do bellow just right,

we’re drawn up the flue and into the night.

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Holding fast and climbing high,

we touched the stars in our moonlit sky.

We’d see twinkling lights in our town below,

then off to the hills where roads don’t go.

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Over the wood, back to the place we all live,

where the door’s always open and love’s to give.

There blissful slumbers had snug as a bug,

whilst wrapped with a hug in grandmas old rug.

.

~*~

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