Rob and Stella

Stella relaxes in her favorite book nook

She reads a spy novel and becomes quite shook

Most of the action takes place in Spain

It’s armchair travel – she’ll never take a plane

Stella’s husband’s a dentist – his name is Rob

He fixes bridges at his toothy job

Rob’s favorite flower is a yellow tulip

He watches the Derby and drinks a mint julep

Rob walks his dog Cadfael in the morning fog

At nights he sleeps like a giant oak log

He’s been married to Stella for thirty great years

She cuts his shaggy hair with razor sharp shears

Evenings they watch classics on their big screen TV

Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer’s are their favorites to see

Kitty Simon sits with them on the couch

He watches too – for that they can vouch

Friday nights they go out and shoot pool

Only two beers each – that’s their rule

Stella needs to buys some smaller pants

But to go shopping she hasn’t had a chance

Rob likes Stella to wear tight jeans

They stay up and make no embarrassing scenes

But Stella loathes department stores

She prefers to stay home with the books she adores

Rob loves Stella and wants no other

And everyone likes her – including his mother

She loves him too – about that there’s no doubt

On their anniversary – there’s much to sing about

A Rhyming Fiction

A light snow squall on a bright sunny day

A red cashmere sweater – happy holidays you say

An antique emerald brooch worn as a pendant

Its provenance and beauty are truly transcendent

To the Inn At Spanish Head for a room with a view

A party for Christmas revelers who are more than a few

Attended by a writer of fabulist fiction

This novelist’s an historian who’s a public speaker with great diction

Janine’s home from the festivities and has time to read

For time with books she has much greed

Her latest good read is Howard’s End

Completion of her own book is around the next bend

She’s writing about a house that goes into space

It’s the only spaceship that has curtains of lace

It’s hoped the Cape Cod will make it to the moon

It’ll either take a year or happen very soon

Janine’s having trouble coming up with an ending

So she knows she’ll really not soon be sending

The final draft is taking too long

One character’s dialogue has gone very wrong

In her tale there’s no role for a cat

No animals at all – not a dog – a rabbit and certainly no bat

It bothers Janine to have no animals at all

Her publisher is demanding a scary haunted doll

Janine’s finally finished and celebrates with wine

She and hubby James – on oysters they dine

They then watch Vertigo with their sweet kitty

Irene

On James’ lap sits their giant Newfoundland Eugene

Eventually Janine’s novel is optioned for a film

The lead will be played by Dame Wilma Tilm

Room was found in the script for a kitty

It’s a sci-fi movie  – the cat talks and he’s witty

END (finally)

Snickers

Waiting and Patience

One morning,

    On a small pond, gentle

Ripples –

A female mallard,

Who wears the tiniest pearl necklace

Ever

Seen

On a desk, a tiny yellow origami bird

            Who wants to be real

             Who wants to fly

*

On the sidewalk, a little girl with chestnut

              Curls, in a bright red raincoat

Jumps one puddle

Crushes

The next.

She is fierce.

Her terrier walks with her,

Splashes with her.

Possibly, muddy footprints on carpet.

Possibly,

A little annoyed, but also amused

Parents.

*

A calico kitty named,

Snickers. (Given name) Or,

Snickers Pie,

Princess Kitty

Cutie Pie

Snickerdoodles

Snickery

Snickles

Snickie Bear,

Very seldom called by her given name.

                 The Zennest of Zen

Also goes by,

                  Little Tiger Girl

*

A whispering fountain pen,

       Azure.

Awaiting her person’s

        Right hand to make words

    Into sentences

Into paragraphs..

        So many hours,

Waiting.. waiting..

         Procrastination is difficult when one

Has ink to spend

Stories to help make.

She whispers,

Come, I’m over here. Not so patient.

*

On an antique maple

Table,

Set in silver,

For two

A bottle of Chardonnay waits

            To be opened.

Upstairs in a wardrobe,

         A blue velvet gown waits

             To be worn.

In a dining room,

              A cassoulet waits

              To be served.

And what of the grandfather clock?

         It waits to be seen, wound,

                 To chime the hours.

    So much waiting.. and waiting.

              Wait!

Ten Micros

Four candles lighted, notebook open – blank pages await words, a tiny sterling turtle charm,

A fountain pen with sapphire ink, filled

*

Trouble Is My Business

And

Pearls Are a Nuisance –

But soon, a copperhead will appear on my pillow,

And

A pair of gold satin stilettos

*

Persuasion

Of a

Nightmare in Pink –

A dream in a copse of birches,

And one hundred shades of blue

*

Darjeeling tea, a malachite bracelet,

A scorpion’s sting

Peach blossoms on satin sheets

*

A blue cloche hat, pink gladiolus –

A diamond pendant

At Bertram’s Hotel

*

Crickets’ chorus, a blue linen tablecloth,

Cabernet Sauvignon,

Murder on the Links

*

A crystal ball, an hourglass with

Pink sand, a ripping thunderstorm, and

Whose Body?

*

Pink calla lilies, Chardonnay for

A picnic, a blue maillot.

And –

Bain de Soleil for the St. Tropez Tan!

*

A black cat with green eyes, a full, bright moon,

Spicy magic spells,

A garden path of crushed rubies

*

Pink fairy lights, a murder mystery dinner,

Pinot noir,

And

Have His Carcase

*

Garden Green

Scenes From People Reading, Part 1

It’s a beautiful May afternoon, but Jillian is with her mother in Dr. McIntosh’s, (their dentist’s) waiting room. But Jillian is fine. It’s her mother’s appointment, not hers, and thank goodness for that. Jillian is nine. She’s wearing a pink linen spring dress that her grandmother made for her, and her white patent leather Mary Janes. She wasn’t told to dress up, she just wanted to. But the best thing of all is that Jillian brought her own book to read. No old magazines for her. She’s on chapter twelve in Little Women. This book was also a gift from her grandmother. So far, she identifies with youngest sister, Amy, the most. Her hair and eyes match Amy’s, but she’s not nearly as spoiled. Then again, secretly Jillian wishes she were like Jo. Jo is practical; outspoken, like her grandmother. Next to her, Katherine Porter, Jillian’s Mom, ohhhs and ahhhs, not very quietly, over the latest fashions in this month’s Vogue Magazine. It’s embarrassing, and Jillian rolls her eyes and cringes a little, goes back to her book. After a few more minutes, her Mom is called in for her cleaning. Jillian is relieved. Now she can read in peace. Probably at least three more chapters.

*

Diane waits for her lunch at her favorite restaurant, O’Farrell’s. It’s a family restaurant, but Diane likes to eat in the small bar. It’s a Wednesday, and her day off. She’s ordered shepherd’s pie and an old fashioned. Only one old fashioned, because she’s driving. Diane brings a book to read, and loves to lunch alone. She knows it’s odd that she likes to sit in a bar alone. She doesn’t care about meeting a man, or anyone for that matter. She just wants to eat and get lost in the story. Right now, she’s reading Bleak House. It’s a chunker, but she’s loving it. It’s about three hundred pages longer than her typical read. But it’s meaty, wonderful, and Dickens. So, there you go. Diane doesn’t stop reading when her lunch arrives. She’s got the book in one hand, heavy as it is, and a fork in the other. She does; however, have to put the fork down to turn the page. When she gets to the good parts of whatever book she’s reading, she tries not to miss her mouth. But Diane is a regular here, the wait staff all know her, and so they bring extra napkins, always. At least two.

*

Belle is at the most boring party she’s ever been to in her life. No exaggeration. She longs for escape. But her best friend, Sylvia is the host. Belle can’t leave, but maybe she can hide for awhile? Maybe she can find Syl’s kitty, Roxane. Roxane is a better conversationalist than any of these humans; well except for Syl, but she’s busy. Belle knew she wouldn’t know another soul, but she promised her friend she’d show up. The guest of honor is a retiring co-worker of Syl’s.  — Then, and what a stroke of luck, Belle remembers there’s a book in her bag. It’s The Moonstone! And The Moonstone is a big book, but Belle has a big bag. Almost like a small suitcase. People like to kid with her, and say Belle, whatcha got in there anyway? If she can just find a secluded spot where she can read for just a few minutes. But this is a party. It’s louder by the minute. And they just started playing country music. Belle might barf, but that’s the music that Carl, the guest of honor, loves. To each their own. Belle gets that, but… Wait! She remembers the upstairs linen closet is roomy, not full of stuff, and has one of those pull string lamps on the ceiling. Perfect..

*

The view up my street in autumn.

Romantasy?

On the local evening news a leopard was interviewed

With oodles of charisma his answers were imbued

He talked about his just released romantasy

The primary couple is Justin and Jessi-Sue Cassie

They go from rivals to lovers in an island family feud

*

He was asked if it’s difficult for a leopard to write

He said why would it be I’m really quite bright

Lionel said he can pen with all four paws

Also with a quill in his big feline jaws

The sexiest scenes in the novel take place at night

*

Interviewer Luanne asked will it be a trilogy

Lionel said no but perhaps a duology

Jessi-Sue and Justin are great together

Just like the post persons in any kind and all weather

Then Li said together it could be an epic septology

*

He said there’s a murder that will need to be solved

But don’t worry this time there’s no butler involved

The killer is found at the end of Book One

But all of the action is far from done

Still- several plot points will be resolved

*

There’ll be a love complication – his name is Hank

He thinks he’s a chance with Jessi – he’s got bank

In the beginning Jessi has eyes for only Juss

And Hank is like Fabio – his hair he’ll not muss

But Jessi will likely go for the guy who’s most lank

*

Both Hank and Justin are sexy beasts

The duo love their favorite meaty feasts

Then along comes Cody to fight for Jessi

It’s when this romantasy gets pretty messy

There are many men who want her – maybe five at leasts.*

*

Lionel says the book’s six hundred pages long

It’s worth every word – readers will say he’s not wrong

In Book Two there will be a love quintangle

Much more fun than a mere triangle

In this tale Juss plays Pac-Man but Hank prefers Kong

*leasts (“poetic” license)

*

Just a photo I like

A Fantasy Sans Swords!

Book in red velvet,

Words, gold silken thread,

Embroidered

Pages,

Soft,

Soundless. Tale of pilfered pearls, purloined

Peridots, deceptive diamonds.

Emeralds emboldened with

Powers, magical.

A fantasy tale without swords

A fairytale without princes

Charming.

                     Weapons are confections,

                  A poisoner’s

Paradise.

Cocktails mixed by

Felines,

Ferocious.

Fabulously clad in velvet,

Blue, cummerbunds cobalt and

Claret.

Monocles gold and seed pearls,

Fangs, hidden, smiles,

Jovial.

Potions with hemlock, hellebore, hibiscus,

Leaf of

Rhubarb.

*

Hounds to the rescue!

Basset, Blood, and Grey!

Cats herded to the dungeons by

Corgis, Border Collies, Aussies, and Malinois!

Inspector Salvo Saturday is on the case.

Fallen into this fairytale from a mystery

In space.

Looking for clues in delicious and deadly

Desserts

Doughnuts, baklava, brownies, and cakes pistachio, chocolate, strawberry and

Carrot

*

A scrivener arrives with

Parchment and pen.

A seamstress unravels the golden thread

At tale’s

End

Alas, the Calico Culprit!

The King is Dead!

Offed by a daiquiri flavored with Dread!

                  Salvo Saturday heads out

                   After three pints of stout!

*

Seven Poems, Or, Word Love II

A summer morning storm

Honeybee hugs her

Self Heal,

Keeps it

Safe

Her honeyed home, 

Geometric perfection

*

Afternoon sunshine spills,

Long.

Spider weaves her new home.

Ghost in red silk dress,

Reading Chandler,

Remembering

The Long Goodbye

*

Fruit falls from.

Still life,

Amaryllis, nectarine

Brush strokes

Replace.

A red rose, a tangerine.

Add bluebird,

In flight,

Life not still.

*

Commas,

On purpose.

Periods grow legs,

Run On and

Off pages

Marks exclaim!

Interjections! whisper… Ssh!

Semicolons become

Whole

*

Whirl, twirl, swirl, curl,

Dance dress ribbon music

Rachmaninoff, Ravel, Berlioz, Bach

Dahlias, delphinium, daisies, dandelions

Birds in blue,

Nestled in yew

Zyzzyva!

*

Seeds dropped by birds,

Flying.

Flowers grow by bees,

Working

Pines grow by their flowers’,

Heating

Animals thrive with humans’

Caring

Love, steadfast.

*

At midnight.

Stars are

Loud.

Lupine dance disco

Moon above

Sparkles, revolves to Donna Summer

Daisy in bell-bottoms says,

Take a Chance On Me!

Lily wants to be

Dancing Queen!

Petunia is

Hot Child in the City

You Better Shop Around!

*

When You’re Change Averse

When you (I) must change your diet and you know you’re going to hate it

The fun scale will go down so you’ll never ever rate it

Counting the carbs makes you roll your eyes

You can never again let your weight rise

It’s better to acknowledge and out loud state it

*

When you know a place where doughnuts are hot

Where the cannoli serving is delicious and a lot

A restaurant where there’s yummy marinara sauce

But of your diet you must be the boss

Partake of pasta carbs you must not

*

It’s likely a good thing you like the kale

But you’ve no desire to be skinny as a rail

A happy medium you must find

Then you’ll not be in an anxiety bind

But on this quest you shall not fail

*

Alas there are many good books to read

Stories give you pleasure and to faraway places can lead

You love words and good tales told

Powell’s is close so more books in the fold

Books have no calories yourself to feed

*

Best dessert ever!

Eight Micros, Or, When You Just Love Words

Eight little poems, or one long one, whichever you prefer.

*

Snow of a midwinter, moonlight tardy,

Bacchanale winds down –

Whirling woolen warmth, foxes dream, their tails they’ll keep

*

An old cellar. Alas,

Books, not wine

Antique parchment’s scent, a language in onyx, olden

*

Words in indigo, pages in ivory, stories in

Hidden limestone layers

Hills painted. Ochre, aubergine

*

Music in a pine chest, a spruce, hand carved

Quilts of old garments, calico. A leopard watches, closely. Kafka’s ghost

Pensive

*

Blueberries in a pie, an old fashioned in a

Tumbler

Gifts wrapped in brown paper,

Cherry red string

*

Old Boston rocker, love’s initials on one arm

BR + LN,

Century old ivory lace, a tiny hole in the train

Add mothballs

*

House on a hill, pink, not haunted

Storm,

Preparing

Maple leaves falling

*

Atop a little knoll,

The Count of Monte Cristo

In

The Cherry Orchard

Thinks about

Crime and Punishment

And finds

The Body in the Library

*