My kitchen is perched between heaven and hell,
but it leans in the latter direction.
The dishes I’m cooking are don’t ask, don’t tell
with abstaining the only protection.
Sometimes we zag instead of zig
or zig when we should zag.
We go small, meaning to go big;
slide home, but miss the bag.
Photo by Robert Krčmar on Unsplash
I am yours and you are mine,
grown together on the vine
of life and love and days well spent,
formed and fed by blessings sent:
My favorite teacher told me in my youth:
“You’ll always be a leader; that’s your truth.”
This left me feeling special, even proud.
I’d often thought the same, though not out loud.
artwork by Simon DeweyDear child, you came into this world
and made the living sweet.
Right from the start, you owned each heart.
Your smile was bliss, complete.
I hope you’ll listen to my take
on how to find a mate.
My vision is unique and wise.
My counsel is first-rate.
Photo by Danie Franco on Unsplash
My grandma always told me
attitude was everything.
Each point of view was mine to take:
my choice to sigh or sing.
Photo by Shunya Koide on UnsplashTake a whiff of joy-in-store,
of silent tomes that sing.
Ride your neurotransmitters
from Boston to Beijing.