Showing posts from February, 2011

Poem #163

I love you every time there is
and every time there's not.
I love you when it's cold outside
and also when it's hot.6/23/02010

Poem #162

You won my affection
and broke through my armor.
Your kiss, my confection,
you sweet little charmer.6/22/02010

Poem #161

I love you in the afternoon
and later, when it's dark.
I love you whether bicycling
or strolling through the park.6/21/02010

Another gushy love poem.

Poem #160

Your fingers shrinking
got me thinking
about your wedding ring.

On the day we married,
that ring I carried
as such a precious thing.

Now you are my wife,
the best part of my life.
So much more important than bling.6/20/02010

Poem #159

Another dead mouse
this time a homegrown victim
super-cute while live.6/19/02010

Our border terrier killed a mouse in the house on the day this poem was composed. I had seen the mouse scurrying around the kitchen earlier, but I was unable to capture it and set it free in a safe location. It ran under the oven, where I lost it. Some hours later, it must have reemerged, whereupon it met its violent end.

I'm sure you've noticed that this is a haiku.

Poem #158

I wish I were with you
wherever you are.
In a boat, on a train,
on a plane, in a car.6/18/02010

Poem #157

I will love you every day
even when you've gone away.
I hope we'll talk on the phone.
Then I'll feel less alone.6/17/02010

My darling wife was still on vacation.

Poem #156

Fluttering, my heart
quickens its rhythm when you
approach and kiss me.6/16/02010

Another gushy love poem.

Poem #155

If Miss Willow
saw Don Orsillo,
I'm sure she'd run and hide.

She'd disappear
whene'er he'd come near.
Especially if he offered a ride.6/15/02010

Here "Miss Willow" refers to our cat, who is extremely fearful of strangers. Don Orsillo is a guy who does television broadcasts of Red Sox games. He might be a former baseball player. Of that I'm not sure. What I am sure of is that Willow does not like to go for rides in cars.

Poem #154

I love you on your knees.
I love you on your pelvis.
I love you more than circus fleas.
I love you more than Elvis.6/14/02010

Another gushy love poem.

Poem #153

Life is sometimes challenging
but it's really not a test.
At the end may come a stroke
or a cardiac arrest.6/13/02010

Poem #152

If only you would let me,
I'd love to kiss your cheek.
Then I'd have a reason
to explain why my knees are weak.6/12/02010

Gushy love poem.

Poem #151

Solo and lonely.
I miss having you with me.
My spirit's so low.6/12/02010

This must have been composed on the first day of my darling wife's vacation. She gets more vacation time from her job than I get from mine, which means that sometimes she goes away, leaving me alone for a week or so.

Poem #150

A grand slam scores four,
unless it's at Denny's for breakfast.
Then it's not really a score…
or at least it isn't the best.6/12/02010


Poem #149

Suzie, Cindy, Martha, Lupe:
Names that are not yours.
If you had them framed and hung,
Perhaps you could give tours.6/10/02010

Bucking the odds, the poem posted for St. Valentine's Day is not a gushy love poem. Strange, that.

Poem #148

I love you when you're toasty.
I love you when you're cold.
I love you when you're timid.
I love you when you're bold.
I love you when you coddle
and even when you scold.
I loved when you were younger.
I'll love when you grow old.6/9/02010

A gushy love poem.

Poem #147

Nitrogen and oxygen
are floating through the air.
You don't see them doing so
but still, they're always there.6/8/02010

A science poem!

Poem #146

I am Mr. Sleepyhead.
That is why I went to bed.6/7/02010

No doubt, composed late at night.

Oops! I missed a day.

In case anyone is actually counting on the consistency of one poem per day, I hereby apologize for missing yesterday's posting. Still, I think 145 consecutive days without a miss is pretty amazing.

Poem #145

If I end up falling apart at the seams
I can still be whole, at least in my dreams.6/6/02010

It's not good, but at least it's not a gushy love poem.

Poem #144

Wouldn't you like to fly to the moon
on a cloudless night in the month of June?
Wouldn't you pity those who try
in the mid-day heat in the month of July?6/5/02010

I think I like the rhythm better this way:
Wouldn't you like to fly to the moon
on a cloudless night in June?
Wouldn't you pity those who try
in the mid-day heat of July?6/5/02010

Poem #143

I haven't written a bit of verse
since before this morning.
But I'm going to sneak one in
almost without warning.6/4/02010

I'm not quite certain, but I suspect I sent this one just before midnight.

Poem #142

I hear that you like one poem
better than all of the rest—
something about your eyes.
I guess you think it's the best.

I don't recall just how it goes.
I suppose it's complimentary.
Perhaps it's about their beauty
or about how far they can see.6/3/02010

My darling wife tells me that her favorite poems are the ones about her ojos, but she got into the habit of saying "o-yos" instead of "o-hos". It's endearing.

Poem #141

Have you ever noticed?
Do you think that it's strange?
That when you say "thank you"
my response is never "you're welcome";
it's always "I love you."6/2/02010

This is true. I almost never say "you're welcome" to my darling wife. Also true is that when I'm addressing her directly, I almost never call her by her name. I call her "my love" almost all the time. It's not that I've forgotten her name, of course.

Poem #140

Perhaps I should write you a poem
to rhyme all your troubles away.
Then you might end up relaxed;
spend your time blowing bubbles all day.6/1/02010

Poem #139

I love you more than Thanksgiving
and more than Christmas day.
I love you when you're near to me
and when you've gone away.5/31/02010

Poem #138

If Mr. Newton
were made half of gluten
and the other half pure peanut butter,
do you think he'd make kids
break out in fits
or perhaps even cause them to stutter?5/30/02010

Here, "Mr. Newton" refers to our chihuahua.

Poem #137

With a kayak on my back,
I took my bike for a hike.
I climbed a mountain in a fountain
and did some dunking while spelunking.5/29/02010

This was purely an exercise in rhyme.