No Matter the Time of Year, It Always Feels Like Winter - Linda-Lou Cave Duffy (howl and other poems TXT) 📗

/> Hoping to find a true, meaningful relationship.
But this kind of love, if love can at all be divided into categories, offers no guarantees.
Knowing this, shall I await his return again accompanied with promises?

Why not? After all, life itself is a fantasy.
Reality escapes us all, maybe not often enough.
Life offers little or no guarantees either.
And when I hear a key turning at the door, my heart pounds
And the problems of the world outside escapes me freely.
Even if momentarily, I feel happy, safe and secure.


 
My SugaBee

Santa came to a house late one Christmas night.
He thought he was lost and turned on a light.
There in the corner a blonde head he did see
He said, “What’s your name?” and she whispered, “Hailey.”

“Your MiMi told me you were pretty you see
But she told me your name was little SugaBee.”
“Yes that’s what she calls me Santa,” she said.
“She told me I’m sweet when she puts me to bed.”

“She said my kisses would melt all the snow
And that’s why we live where there’s sand all aglow.”
“Your MiMi sent me a letter last week
And told me you’re not at all timid or meek.”

“She said you are smart, pretty and kind.
She said to leave lots of gifts you will find.
I wrapped them in paper, glitter and bows.
But you can not see now you just mustn’t know.”

“She told me she loved you with all of her heart.
And said you were good and very, very smart.
Your MiMi asked me to give you some books
She said you would take hours and hours to look.”

“She said you were kind to your brothers of two.
And told me you loved your flip flops and your shoes.
So please go to bed and close your pretty eyes.
Before you know it I’ll be back in the sky.”


 


Sweet T

My sweet little boy who’s growing so tall.
His white hair, tan skin when he was so small.
His first fishing trip to the Pier that we took
Was the trip that caught him by the bait on his hook.

From that first day with pelicans taller than he
Was the day that the addiction started to be.
The trips on the boat where we fished until dark.
Excited him more than a clown in the park.

He’d nap between stops by the sound of the motor
And wake up when stopped to put out a new floater.
With sharks caught at night he’d scream with delight
And those in the day that would pull his line tight.

He’d pitch a tent and spend all night.
If you’d let him and he had a few bites.
I call him Sweet T because he is nothing less
He sweetens my life and melts all my distress.

He’s a man among men by being sweet and yet strong.
The decisions he’ll make will be more right than wrong.
He still kisses his MiMi and gives me a shout.
To tell me how many grunts, mackerel or trout.

His dream is deep sea and I’m sure he’ll be there.
One day when he’s older and his boat is sea fair.
When others did drugs or drink through the night
My Sweet T will be fishing for the next great big bite.

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Publication Date: 01-10-2010

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