TheRealTamara

Envious

The young in general are so
Physical. It's not just youth
Which takes to preening so
Their movement is so much
More languorous. Children,
They're jumping - sideways,
Around, dodging, and loud.
Running into and away in a
Pattern athletes could envy
But I am the most envious 
Of their fluidity of their ease 
Of their comfort with bodies 
In motion, of performances
So simple yet so acrobatic.

There are other ways

There are many ways to
Express manliness, your
Manhood is yours to show
As you wish. His is by a
Swagger, intentional not
Impetuous. Good looks
And height help highlight
Who he is. It's all there, as
Easy as sunlight. He's a
Cowboy on a city street.

Punctuate what

I quit on the finesse of a
Comma or a query mark
Too much like structure
Too constrictive for me
Let me roam the prairies
Of sentences without an
End oh sure they'll begin
And then we'll run on and
Away to enchanted lands
Language is a magic ride
Magical carpets transport
Let's not fuss over where
Our touch down takes us

For always

The theme is time. It's 
Love. Remembrance.
Love above all else.
Remembrance else I
Forget not just you.
But us.

What has time taught us

It's eight o' somewhere or
Perhaps 5pm as drinkers
Share. Grab a gin, mix in a
Tonic. Salud. But time does
Not just mark the rotations
For cocktail hour or bedtime 
If you're sleepy. It is a valued
Tool when you've wanted to
Knock off work or plant crops 
It's junior only to a season's 
Measure but more intimate 
And personal in its breadth.
You know that it's 5 o'clock 
Somewhere. Raise a glass
Or just dim the lights and
Head home. Closing time.

34-Love

All these years, we never dropped 
The ball. If it happened to fall, we
Would have been there, saving the
Other the embarrassment when it
Rolled away off the court. It didn't

Winds and rain

Straining for the sun and
Beaten down by winds or
Rain-soaked, tulips wonder
If they came up too soon.
My jacket, less than I need,
Makes me nod at this real
Concern. When the summer
Heats us beyond reason
Will we feel the winds and
Rain, miss the comfort of
Our discomfort, yearn for 
Yesterday's wintry spring

Summer

I came for summer
And stayed for fall
Autumn leaves fell
I was still here and
Now it was getting
Cold. The chill did
Not deter. I waited
It out. Spring was
'Round every corner.
I stayed for summer.

May

April was "the cruelest month"
T. S. Eliot had his sway, being
Right only goes so far and now
May comes in teasing, blowing 
Hot and cold like a lady in waiting
Flowers, famously made hers
By the showers of anticipation
From the clouds of the month
Before sit unsure of themselves
In beds strewn around tree trunks
Cast too early for their colorful
Debuts, appearing papery and 
Transparent in the iffy sunshine
Of overcast May days, seeking
Succor from the chill winds, not
Quite secure in their nesting 
Places. Chaucer spoke of the
Renewal that is spring. I say it's 
A process and a time of year.

Unusual

Were you expecting rain, or
Hale? Violent weather comes 
Uninvited and bids Adieu to
Crops or kills off wildlife and
Man, together. We may not be
Prepared, but someone warned 
Of this impending doom. A big
Change was coming. They all
Said climate would affect us
Soon and not in a good way.
What were you expecting?