Tuesday, August 25, 2009

The Bunch of Pals who Conspired

August twenty-first
nineteen and seventy-six
I married the man
I’d met in May, set up
on a blind date
by friends who later said
they knew.

My best friend asked
by week two
if he had proposed.
I laughed at her.
The conspiracy had begun
before we were introduced.

We spoke little
the first three dates.
He was terribly shy
and I
thought he was angry.
He kept saying no
till he did get angry.

He was angry that I asked
not at anything about me
or that I’d done. I cried
and his sister-in-law
yelled at him.
I was embarrassed.

We spent a lot of time
with our group, our gang,
that bunch of buddies.
One couple fought loudly.
My guy asked later
that we not fight
like that if we married.

I teased him
and asked what
he meant by if.
But the air was full
of a serious note.
He came back the next
week wanting a date
for the wedding.

He’d told his mother.
I was shocked. But,
in a short month
love had bloomed.
Love real, if not explosive.
Love of the soul and heart.

Now we will celebrate
our thirty third year.
Smiling, we know it has been
a life well played.
A short interval
became a lifetime
of satisfaction.

Joe, my love, my mate.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Sandpaper Kisses

I have come across some comments on other sites where this poem is posted that it reflects some sort of abuse or inappropriate touching. I hadn't thought of anyone applying that meaning to it. This is a fond memory of my grandfather. There is nothing untoward or abusive in anyway implied. I hope it will bring back some fond memory for you the reader. Enjoy

He would reach out for me
draw me into his giant arms
pull my pretzeled body close
tickling, laughing, hugging dance.
My writhing little body caught
“Grandpa’s got you, you can’t
get away.” Then his deep
throaty laugh rang through the house.
I’d squiggle, wiggle, squealing
pain and glee. “Let me go,
let me go, no grandpa
not the whiskers please.”
A five o’clock cheek to my
delicate skin, he raked his tough
stubble till I cried “Grandma come help.”
She would walk in, wiping her hands.
“Paul, let that child be.” He quickly
released as I rolled to the floor.
I’d jump to my feet teasing
Grandpa can’t get me.”
taunting - out of his reach.
He seemed to ignore while he plotted,
waiting a moment - surprise attack,
Grabbing and planting sandpaper kisses,
lips chewing my neck, fingers tickling
my wiggling, struggling frame
while he whiskered again.
“Grandma, Grandma help me.”
“Not this time she’d laugh.
You deserve what you get.”