A Taste of Special

Always a half
Served as he decompressed
From the day
Creamy yellow green flesh
With salt and a lemon squeeze
My sister and I
Little birds
Perched near
Begged for
A bite
With surgical precision
He'd slice a small sliver
And deliver it
Like the rarest of delicacies
To our open mouths
Butter soft and rich
Tang and salt
Combined
Divine
*******
Dawn barely bright
We sat at the speckled
Orange Formica table
Grandpa sipping coffee
Me poised for the moment
His large fingers
Pinched a sugar cube
Like a magician
He held it above steaming
Dark brew
Liquid climbed
Into pure white crystals
Turning them
Toasty brown
At the half way point
He'd pop it in my mouth
A hot crumbled crunch
Sweet so strong it
My teeth complained
But tempered with
Warm roasty coffee...
Perfection

This offered for Poetry Pantry at Poets United poetryblogroll.blogspot.com.  Not sure why these memories were rolling around my head this morning while I washed the dishes.  Guess just the thought of how special we felt to share in the treat--evening avocado with my dad and sugar cube dunked in coffee with my Grandpa--  Anyone else have these types of memories? :-)

There's No Good Time

Touch down, drive

Drag suitcases in

Release dog

And

Gasp

At water waddling down the hall

It impregnated the baseboards

Partied under the floors

Splashed in a self made kiddie pool (utility room)

Too few towels to take him down

So the jaws of unknown damage

Gape and snap in your dreams

That spill into a morning

Nightmare

Baseboards ripped

Drywall slaughtered

Then the incessant drone 

Hulking, loud fan warriors

Blowing death and dryness

At the liquid 

Laughing

In the walls

This is offered up for the very timely prompt by Gabriella, at Poetry Jam poetryjaam.blogspot.com, to write about the unexpected.  Came home 11:30 Wednesday night after a nine day trip to find the water heater had rusted out and flooded the house.  Fortunately, only the hall and bedrooms.  And with all the kids being gone, very little furniture damage. Feeling lucky actually.  Hope everyone else had happier surprises. :-) 

Whirled Peas

I'm waiting for non-
judgment day
Where " I love you"
Is what we say
To
Differences, idiosynch-
Cracies

We'll dance among the
Pleasant-
Trees
Share whirled peas
Sip humani-
Teas

Life could be
So trouble free
If we'd embrace
Our common-
ality
And imagine the
Possibili-
ties

This is offered for Peggy's prompt at Poetry Jam poetryjaam.blogspot.com to write about an impossible place.  With all the violence and anger lately, this seems pretty remote, however, I like to think that with hope all things are possible.  Happy weekend :-)

Stranded Without A Passport

Stranded without a passport
Thirsty for deep blue
But my boat don't have a paddle
So I can't get back to you
If only I'd remembered
While packing my swim trunks
I'd be snorkeling with my baby
'Stead of hanging out with drunks
So pretty please Mister Overnight Courier
Make sure that you deliver
That little document I need
To reach my baby, at full speed
Then I'll be deep in ocean
Never, ever have to be dry
And me and my baby
Won't no more say goodbye

This was written for Alan's prompt about being thirsty at Poetry Jam poetryjaam.blogspot.com, and believe it or not, based on a true story.  Just last weekend...and the title came from our friend's comment after his ordeal.  May you never be stranded without your passport and may your thirst be easily quenched.  Cheers!  Happy 4th everyone! :-)