I will write the lyrics
To your melody, your
Song will become ours,
Your composition lifts
My words. We create a
Harmony, together, it's
Words and music when
You add the music and
I offer words. Now it can
Be sung. It has a voice. I
Will write the lyrics. You
Will turn it into the song
Author Archives: TheRealTamara
For an opinionated woman such as I, blogging is an excellent outlet. This is one of many fori that I use to bloviate. Enjoy! Comment on my commentary.
Cool it
You can feel the weight
Of the air, its hot breath
On your elbow, on your
Knee. Its heavy pressure
Slows every step you take.
Even your mind objects
To a physical oppression
So early in your day. Act
As if you could shake it
Off. Take your walk back.
It's only air and you have
Your own atmosphere. It
Is where you thrive, live,
Love. The weight of the
Heat is nothing to the
Power in your heart, in
Your head. You, you're
Cool. Like the proverbial
Ice cube, like a cucumber.
The pact
It must be the rhyme that is
Keeping them out, Belarus
Isn't in the alliance but all
The 'stans are. You can call
Out each. It's Kazakhstan
Uzbekistan, and Pakistan
Kyrgyzstan, too. Even Iran
Quite the group. Sing it--
Like a song. This is a hit.
India then China, Russia,
Start a rhyme. No Crimea
"Pakistan... Uzbekistan...
Kazakhstan...Kyrgyzstan
Don't forget Iran-is-stan."
Thank you, Bill, for telling
Me that I forgot Tajikistan.
For good and all
The best is yet to come to those
Who wait to see what the future
Will bring and where the road'll
Lead. I expect great things will
Await when you've waited and
You've seen. There's no measure
Of good that won't land on your
Plate. You've waited and stand
To get back what the wind blows
Back. Your heart is full; it's pure.
With all you've got, you'll get more
And more there'll be for you still
When you wait, see what's coming.
The habits of the old and wise
What are your daily habits?
Wiser than you were yesterday,
I'd say. All true, my habits will
Reflect my new-found skill at
Coping. True dat. The years play
On but still wisdom is hard-won.
Habits that were every day are
Harder, are easier. They are the
Same. Daily, I seek love, or fame,
And acknowledgment. Is that
Wise? Is there a prize for age?
Wisdom is just a stage in a life
Full of frolic and strife. Habits
Should stay with you. A tacit
Rule that defines what a habit
Must be - a practice, a custom,
Routine. Nothing to intervene,
Accustomed, and, then, some.
Sartorial choice

If you were forced to wear one outfit over and over again, what would it be?
Wearing that red t-shirt again?
That's nice. What are you pairing
With that shirt? A pair of black
Slacks. Always. OK. Do you lack
Imagination or wardrobe, dearie?
Sounds so basic or maybe easy.
Simple truths
The work of the weary, the work of the wise
Even the foolish or the giddy, the silly surprise
Every mood and all the timbres that color
Our world and brighten its doorstep, flowers
Rocks, the hard and the soft fall into place
Everything so ugly so beautiful so dark interlace
We greet our days with tears, concern, laughter
Everything so puzzling, so clear greets us hereafter
We are wicked we are good both stupid and smart
The world we inhabit is so sweet, and it is tart
Officially, summer
It's day two or maybe 3 of
Summer. Officially. There
Isn't much change since the
Spring. Temperatures about
What they were in May, that
Merry month sayeth A Bard
And so many of us concur, I
Won't counter the description.
Where does that leave June,
A month full of frolic and the
Start of a solstice of heat and
Passion? June will lead us to
July as we go trippingly deep
Into the cycle of months until
Fall comes to whisk away the
Heat and bring us the falling
Leaves of autumn. Also an
Autumnal sadness but oh my
I love the fall and wait for the
Falling temperatures to clear
The air and bring a sweater
Chill. The autumn is sweet, a
Season for a transition likely
Towards the more serious of
Our thoughts. Meanwhile we
Are here in June anticipating
Swims and picnics and kites.
Who’s that?
Time has changed us so much
We are unrecognizable even to
Ourselves. I certainly don't know
The woman in our wedding photo
The man by her side has been so
Transformed, he might not be you
But I know it is. Changed, but the
Spirit lives on in your eyes. Cute
As you were then, maybe cuter as
Time has added years and taken
Nothing, maybe given back what
We never had before if that were
Possible. We always knew who
We were. Changes puzzled us,
But they changed nothing. Time.
Dawdle
If it's dawdling in plain sight
Then I am trained for it. Not
Just trained but training. My
Skills are in moving. Slowly.
Or you might say deliberately
Across the tableaux that are
Your games. I know the rules.
I can ignore them or play upon
Them. My effort is well worth
It. You have met your match.