Gone are the days 

I was lost in the woods.

Here, 

I am me

Without having to worry

If the moon is full

And packs would attack me 

out of lunacy.

Here,

I am at peace

To gaze at the deep purple sky above

While the stars go scarce or array.

Here,

I am loved 

Like how my sour cream smelling Pillow-Willy 

Have embraced me since infancy.

Here,

in your arms,

I can be a baby, crazy, 

witch, bitch,

fatso, cold,

broke, old, 

and not sorry.. . . .

. . . For baby

You’re my home. . . .

. . . and your arms

are forever 

my sanctuary.

Life is an economist that requires trade-offs;

ever requiring us to give up something for the sake of another;

ever demanding us to consider the costs and benefits of the choices we make;

ever instilling rationality;

ever imposing equality;

ever upholding standards;

ever securing purpose.

A diehard crusader of meaning,

. . . always rallying for vision;

always arguing for continuum;

always vigilant of opportunities;

always passionate in resolving scarcity of ways and means.

. . . ultimately ensuring we are giving our best; our very all

to our endeavors;

to our aspirations;

to our hope and dreams; even

to friendship and love

we build and keep.

I love you.

Deprived of time,
Hindered by miles,
Faced with do-nots rhyme—
How it conquered thy being,
There’s no way of telling

Careless
If lizards are eavesdropping;
Careful
If mice are screeching,
Relentless in digging

Perhaps
This,
That
Damn thing
Must be a wonderful thing

Brown eyes
Are lightening;
White enamels
Are sparkling
Evincing harmony within

Perhaps
This,
That
Damn thing
Is truly a wonderful thing.

Featured Song:

Wonderful World
by Renee Olstead

Okay, Courage,
come with me
wherever
I go–
let’s go!

Let’s pas de bour rée
in the dance floor of despair
through grace
in acceptance and hope–
let’s go!

Let’s close-up-smile
in the valley of tears
through memories
of kisses and good cheers–
let’s go!

Let’s pole the flag of resilience
in the mountain of ridicule
through compassion
to the cynic and ignorant–
let’s go!

Let’s dive the depth of possibilities
in the sea of skepticism
through faith
that He remains
and goodness reigns–
let’s go!

Let’s fly high
in blue
even in grayish sky
on the wings of benevolence
and love.

Okay, Courage?
C’mon,
Let’s go!

The sacred rendezvous of Sun and Moon
in the purple sky above when evening looms,
where red, orange, and yellow
horizons are reflected below,
tenderly caressing the pristine waters of Marianas
while white dolphins and blue whales from Hawaiianas
are dancing
while pink mermaids are singing
in jubilee of an eternal knot
witnessed by sterling stars
and shimmering sands–
that my sweetest,
is the portrait
of this beautiful thing
we carry in our hearts
from the time we’re wrapped
in ethereal wombs
till death and beyond doom.

Original Post:

Not Even Monalisa Can Come Close

Personal: Thank you for your generosity; and God bless us all! Happy blogging! 😘😘😘

Featured Song:

Portrait of My Love

By Matt Monro, 1967

(Videos courtesy of YouTube)

The moon was blue;
The Chinky Owl went to twig so early;
The mosquitoes were fasting
in sympathy with me–

So please come back.

Please come back;
Please get your bebedees.

No, thank you!
I don’t need
aromatherapy.

*Smiley
fuming jn red,
and very,
very,
very
angry.

YouTube/Blue Moon/Eb Duet