Category Archives: Love

Good night, sleep tight

I have brushed my teeth now
and the mother says it is time for my bed
but first
you must piggyback me down the hall
my feet must not touch the ground, mind!
dump me on the bed, bounce me one two three

get out the big colourful picture book
by Richard Scary
I must find Goldbug, right?
I pretend I do not know, do not know
until you look askance at me
then triumphantly I put my finger on the page
there he is!

now you must read me Tom Tit Tot
that little thing with the whipping twirling tail
no one can guess his name, but we know.
is he related to Rumpelstiltskin?

now I start to yawn
you lay me down on my belly
you play Down in the Jungle on my back
with your beating bongo hands
and then mother yells GET THEM TO BED

now you cover me
I lay my head on the pillow, shut my eyes
you sing to me, in the littlest of voices
Bluebird
“late at night when the wind is still
I’ll come flying to your door, and you’ll know
what love is for”

you know I’m pretending to sleep
’cause I can’t help the little smile
so you burble my lips with your finger
and I make the silly noise

and now, I feel it.
just as you always say
the sandman is coming
you wind my curls around your finger
make them even curlier

goodnight my Daddy

For You

what makes a nightmare for you?
says the man who’s been stunted
’cause his whole life he’s been hunted
what makes a nightmare for you?

when cold comfort is all you can find
all the time you must be wary
and the heavy weight you carry
means the devil’s stalking you not far behind
and you may become entangled and entwined

what has your conscience done for you?
when you care for all your brothers
but they give their love to others
what has your conscience done for you?

when those who seek your confidence are few
and the troubled souls who’ve found you
with their sorry hearts surround you
and the burdens that they carry are so true
your conscience is what marries them to you

what is a man like you to do?
when you’ve been through so much sorrow
and you’re swallowing tomorrow
what is a man like you to do?

your spiritual strife will be undone
and your suffering be ended
and your weary heart be mended
when you call upon the mercy of the one

who knows your soul and cries his tears for you
who knows your soul and cries his tears for you

photo credit to:   https://charterforcompassion.org/becoming-compassionate/compassion-accepting-life-as-it-is-without-sorrow-or-emotional-reaction

Periwinkles

They headed down the valley
With their wine and picnic lunch.
The periwinkles blooming
They gathered by the bunch.
Happily remembering
The times that they had spent
As children, in the old ravine
Inside a makeshift tent.
With jam and jelly sandwiches
They’d huddled from the rain
And hoped that in the days to come
They’d be there, once again.
Soon they would be parted, though
Still children, and they wept.
They’d always been the only ones
Whose promises were kept.
Two decades passed, the wheel had turned
They never did forget.
And often looked within their hearts
Without the least regret.
Close unto this very summer
He thought of her once more
And prayed that he would find her
As lonely as before.
A fairytale friendship
Remembered o’er the years
Had sent him on this errand.
He’d not forget their tears.
Now he was a grown man
And thought she must be married.
Indelible the memory was
That in his mind he carried.
Back to their old school he went
To ask where she had gone,
But none knew of her whereabouts.
They said that she’d moved on.
Please tell me where, and name the town!
He cried, and someone spoke-
The old and grizzled janitor
Whose memory then awoke.
Away now, with the precious answer
He went with all good speed,
And sought her out, for days it was
He’d not paid any heed
The search had finally led him
To a dark and dingy bar.
She’d worked there as a waitress.
T’was said she had a scar.
And that was how he found her.
He would not have recognized
Her face, so drawn and haggard
But still, she mesmerized.
She waited on his table. He touched her hand and said
“Lissa, do you know me?”
She slowly shook her head
He spoke his name, and handed her
A jam and jelly sandwich
Her eyes grew wide, and then she cried
O’er the scars that marked her damage.
A man she’d met and stayed with
(She was so all alone)
Had used her as his punching bag
And cut her to the bone.
Remembering the long ago
And the tent in the ravine
Her heart within her melted
And they quit the ugly scene.
To his own, he took her
And let her rest in bed
He waited on her day and night
And caressed her weary head
Whole had she become now
And when this day had dawned
They went to pick the periwinkles
Of which she was so fond.

My Wife Story

She works all day, all week
Nigh to thirty years at the same mundane place
Nothing to show but her name in the company newsletter
And a couple of gold pins

But wait….there are many friends she has made
She is a charitable soul
Helps the food bank
And a family that’s in need
Offers rides to those she knows
That are walking in the wicked weather

We have a house, bigger than we need
It’s half empty now
I’m retired, with flagging health
It’s been a year now

Home she comes, after each long day
Yet still looks for more work to do before her chair time
(“What’s that spot on the floor?”)
Cleans invisible dirt, rearranges the cupboard
I bring the tea, now it’s chair time
Back she reclines, attracting the three lap cats
Off she dozes

I see her bones are getting tired
But she will not hear a mention of it
Keeps storing and storing more nuts for the winter
There’s an illness she has that she will not attend to
I am exasperated to tears sometimes
But she says she feels fine, just let her alone

Forty plus years we have spent in this marriage
That means something
Fights we have had
Silences we have had
Tired of one another we have been
Unfaithful in the heart have I been

But as I set this down, I think
That without her,
I would drown.

Loss and blame

A person very close to me met his death, at a young age, some years ago.
Cancer it was, and it spread very rapidly, a “good thing” for those of us who loved him.
Like many of us, he had his faults and sins, and had been an alcoholic and a heavy smoker for some years. I understand the emptiness of people who fall into these addictions, and I have seen the finger pointing of some who blamed him for his own demise.

I cannot and do not, because I loved him and sensed that many times he was looking for help that no one could give. If anything, I wear my own guilt for not seeing it sooner and trying harder.

There was a night, in better times, when a few of us went to a New Year’s Eve party. He had planned, wisely, to stay in a nearby motel. My wife and I had chosen to drive, so I had to abstain from drinking more than one beer. It happened that he and I were alone at the table when he got up to make a second or third trip to the bar. He came back with two bottles of beer, and slid one to me, saying “come on, it’s New Years”. I said I couldn’t because we had a long drive ahead of us. In a few minutes, he had finished the two, then looked at me with a downcast expression, and said “I love you”. That was all.

When we first heard of his diagnosis, I panicked, and wanted to see him right away. He had an appointment with the Oncologist the next day, so I went along with him and his partner. As we were walking down the hospital hall, he turned to her, and then to me, and said “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” All three of us wept then.

He was given only a short time, and was adamant that he would spend it at home, so a hospital bed was brought there and he had periodic visits from a nurse. On the last two nights of his life, I stayed at his home, but had gotten very sick with influenza. At one point, he actually got out of his bed and stood up, saying he had to go pee. I embraced him tightly, and said “it’s alright, just go”. It was as black as coke. With the emotional stress and illness, I had to leave the next morning.

That afternoon, he was gone.