What is there for the world
When the warmth you exude is not felt
This warmth full of life is left in the cold
Don't you know that only me knows
What you've seen could only be seen by the lucky few
Don't worry cause I have you and we only have each other
The world is not always right and when the dark will be left where it belongs far away from us I will spread my wings and take you with me and feel the fading graces of the universe.
The Restaurant Menu has a picture.
Three golden brown Pancakes
A large corn colored slice of butter
Melting on top running over the sides.
Griddle Cakes doing a Nathalie Wood impersonation
Drowning in a sea of thick maple syrup
Cartoon like ribbons of aroma rising upward.
The old man made them every Sunday morning before church.
Which he never attended
Black hair slicked back
Partially stained white Dago-Tee
Cigarette dangling from his lips.
The ash worming longer with each Popeye exhale
From the side of his mouth
Large bowl on his left hip
Attacking the batter with grunts of enthusiasm.
Tattoos on his arms flexing larger then smaller
Giving the appearance they were dancing.
Tatted when he was a Cook in the Navy
During World War II.
I imagined him storming the beaches of the South Pacific
With spatula in hand
"Don't need to cut'em with a damn knife.
Use your fork "
He'd holler wrestling the knife from my hand
Then throwing it into the sink.
Slapping the back of my head in anger
No Waitress wait!
I'll have the Waffles instead
With strawberries if you have them.
Yes, Waffles
We never had a Waffle Iron.
I reach for my fishing tackle box.
Deeply hidden is the photograph of Nathalie.
For two days I knew her, but have fantasized for fifty years.
She stays twenty two, perpetually young and beautiful.
Blonde with brown eyes that danced.
Her sense of humor was keen.
She was our tour guide in Moscow, my friend Stephen and I.
We were both half in love with her.
She is smiling in this photo.
Looking right into my camera.
I remember how hard my heart was beating when I took this photo.
“What are you looking at?”
Of course, not as hard as right now, as my wife of forty years heads toward me.
I push Nathalie back under the drawer.
“Just some fishing stuff.”
HAPPY, HAPPY B’DAYS TO A THREESOME
PRETTY LIL’ GIRLS
HIP….. HUP!
Happy, happy Birthdays to you, Girlies
Come August 7, 10 and 20ty
To: ELIZABETH, HEART & CYNA
NATHALIE.
HIP….. HUP!
Your respective families are luckier
Having you in their lives
Beautiful Threesome with an Inspiring
Awe.
HIP….. HUP!
You are all born in Augury, 8th month
And you are truly little Princesses
Who give joys to everyone.
HIP…..HUP!
We hope and pray for your own successes
All the years and all the while
So, let us all celebrate.
HIP….. HUP!
Lola DEL is excited prepared simple
But her gifts and kisses full with love
Never lavish just fair to each one.
HIP….. HUP!
HAPPY, HAPPY BIRTHDAYS!
Again, HIP….. HUP and
CHEER-UP, CHEEER-UP!
To you Threesome Cuties of our
Love.
From,
GRAND MA &
GRAND PA
Tragedy makes her more beautiful,
The vulnerability in her tone of voice,
Her hesitation in her discourse,
The trembling of her fingers,
The wavering of her eyes,
The complete destruction of a wonder woman’s confidence.
She has entered a new stage,
A stage in which she knows nothing of what is good,
She only knows what she feels,
She only feels what she does,
There’s no longer rationality behind her actions,
The rapid transformation of a wonder woman’s sentiment.
She has a strange loyalty to the past,
Promises never broken,
Only discontinued due to death,
Death of her soulmate, she will never forget,
The Hollow space where her heart used to be,
The constant reminder of a wonder woman’s heartache.
Alas, a knight in knitted clothes,
Gave his all and enough,
She just required a simple man,
To be a companion, a new love,
A man to seek her till he finds,
A man to treat her with delicacy,
A man to honour her fragility,
She, the Parisian beauty,
The innocent deer in the valley,
She? The wonder woman, Nathalie