... just holding hands.

A little romance ‘round Christmas time,

Could cost as little as one thin dime;

Or maybe less, might I suggest, just holding hands?

You make me shy, I don’t know why,

I feel that magic when you walk by;

Might I suggest, it would be best, just holding hands?

(*)       Picture us both together,

Snuggling, oh so tight.

We don’t care ‘bout the weather,

‘Cause we’ll be makin’ love all night!

A little peck on your right cheek,

Makes your knees a little weak;

Or maybe less, might I suggest, just holding hands? (*)

 

-For Willie

“Are You Going To Eat That?”

It just sat there on the tabletop, nestled comfortably on the lace doily.

It was calling to me, 

                                     “Tooooommmmm! Tooooooooooommmm!”

I shot a quick glance in its direction.  Oh, chocolatey, gooey, fudgy decadence.

I could feel the pounds being added on, one by one.

The cat, too, had seen it, for he leapt up onto the table in a single bound.  His landing, however, let a lot to be desired.

The plate holding this scrumptious delight slowly, ever so slowly, slid and crashed onto the floor.

The cat and I looked at each other.

 “Are you going to eat that?,” he said.

“Probably. You wanna help?”

I Wish I Had Known We Were Going To The Beach

I wish I had known we were going to the beach,

‘Cause then my toys, I’d have put within reach!

Instead there they sat high on the shelf

Where no one could get them, not even myself.

I wish I had known a few days ago,

What you had in store for me and Bilbo.

Then I could have gotten some toys

Better suited for doggies instead of for boys.

I got that box down onto the floor,

Just then I hear you opening the door:

It creaks and it moans ever so loud,

And here we both sit, ever so proud.

We found my toys trucks, my bucket, my pail,

I think we’ll be ready shortly without fail.

Just as I’m about to run barefoot in the street,

You say, “Hey come back, mister,

            You’ll get sand in your feet!”

Mommy Did Say They'd Be Home By Midnight...

When they said good-bye, I whimpered.  My head dropped down, and I could feel a lump in my throat.

So many questions:

            Where were they going?

            How long would they be gone?

            Will I be here all by myself?

Oh, sure, I had the run of the house.  Lots of newspaper to read before doing my “business”, as they called it.

They’d left my toys as well: 

            The cat doll with only 2 legs still attached

            My squeaky newspaper, and

            My rawhide bones.

Ruff, Ruff!

            What was that???

Hmmph!  Nothing.

I circled the living room a few times, and then decided, *yawn*, it was probably time for a well deserved nap.

I mean after all, Mommy did say they’d be home by midnight.

We Don't Do That Here!

Paper airplanes whizzing by.

The chatter of little voices.

==========>>>>      Running around, waving arms.

Stomping about.

                        Silence.

A loud “THUD” could be heard down the hallway.  Then the sound of hard-soled shoes clomping on the tile floor.

The footsteps were getting louder.

That could only mean that the feet to which they were attached were also getting closer.

Closer.

                CLOSER.

                                    C L O S E R.

You could hear a pin drop.

“Hey!  We don’t do that here!”

              

     

Footnote: I did not attend Catholic school, so I don't have first-hand knowledge of what the Sisters/Nuns were/are like, however, in talking to others that did survive that experience I'm told it's every bit as fun and joyous as it sounds!.  tomb 

Can It Be Repaired?

I took it to my doctor’s office.  They called my name and I followed the nurse into the exam room.

“Good morning,” he said.

Me:     Hello.

Nurse: How are you?

Me:     Eh, I’m alright.

I fidgeted in my chair.

The nurse took my blood pressure and pulse.

“Normal.”

I smiled.  I was normal!

Nurse:   The doctor will be in shortly, he said as he left the room.

The doctor arrived rather quickly; always a good sign.

Me:     Doctor, do you see this?, I said, holding my hand over my heart. 

It aches.  Down to my bones it aches.

Dr.:     Any place else?

Me:     No, just here.

“Hmm,” he said, scratching his head.

Me:     Can it be repaired?

Dr.:     In time, the pain will lessen and eventually disappear.  How are you feeling now?

Me:     I think I’ll be okay.  I’m normal.