In the Evening

When the children have settled and

The puppy is asleep,

It is his heart and mine,

Together we keep.

Ode To Basset Hound!

Dear Basset Hound, I see you there,

With droopy, soulful eyes.

Your tail may wag, or maybe not,

But to me, you are love in disguise.

You sit as a movable puddle;

All drippy and drooling and droll,

The legs, the lips, the back, the neck -

Roll after glorious roll.

And ears, oh ears!

To speak of them as a velveteen blanket of sorts.

I drape his over my forehead,

I smooth hers against my shorts.

The chest it is a barrel,

Both powerful and round,

With knuckled knees and cockeyed feet,

And a rump that may not leave the ground.

But, in fact, you are an athlete,

A hunter to the core.

With curious nose to the grindstone,

You sniff to the pantry door.

Basset Hound, I respect you,

You know your place in line.

You cannot, you will not, you must not be rushed,

A lesson I've learned over time.

For often you are stubborn,

Basset, you sometimes drool,

If I turn my back on a sandwich,

You'll certainly shimmy my stool

And steal a meal

Without a care, with nary a second thought.

How foolish of me to have left it there?

A Labrador you are not!

A Basset has too much conviction,

To blandly follow the rules.

Life is too interesting, time is too short,

Many Hounds drop out of schools.

And though seemingly not very busy,

Unless occupied with a good nap,

Or patrolling for crumbs, a snack left behind,

Bassets work hard at sitting on laps.

O Basset Hound, I honor thee

For all the joy you bring.

And when it's time for supper,

I'll be sure to give you a ring.

Here I Sit

Here and there

I am riddled with

Bites of Inspiration.

Nipping at me while I scurry through my harried day,

I am toughened by time avoiding their teething,

And swat them away as bothersome, useless mosquitos.

How foolish I must be to think they will not leave a mark?

Red and itching, I sit, uninspired,

Blemishes at my heels, too often left untended.

Old and New

How is it that something new

Can start out of something old

Which has risen, ripe, to the

Calm, undisturbed surface?

Swimming, web-footed, toward the light of day

You breech, finally, and air,

Exploding into the

Lungs,

You are alive again,

The stale breath mixed with

Tender freshness.

Giant Paper Pad

Giant Paper Pad,

Giant Paper Pad,

You stare at me from across the room like

Wooden Forks in my Eyes.

I sit at the computer lifeless,

Words as

Rocks in my

Gurgled Throat;

I Choke.

Please go bother someone else,

Giant Paper Pad,

And leave my tortured mind

All to Herself.

Bumps

I have been bouncing now and

Bumping round this room,

Flailing and flying all about.

I'm sorry you must join me now,

But I will not,

Cannot,

Go it alone.

Think how I feel?

I have been here longer and

Many of my bumps are deeper, darker, deadlier than your own.

But no matter.

I am trapped here,

And now, too, are you.

Together now we're bouncing and

Bumping round a room.

An Ode to The Husband...

As sung to the tune of Lullaby and Goodnight...

Grab your man, hold him tight, let him get right inside you,

Let him love you, hold him closely,

Never ever let him go.

Cup his buns, rub his back, put his face in your lap,

Really tease, never leave,

Let him give you a smack.

For through God, you are here, fate has brought you together,

So enjoy him, be so grateful,

Let your bodies be as one.

All the kids are asleep, there is no one to punch,

You have finally cleaned all the crumbs up from lunch.

So get nude, maybe crude,

It's your God-given blessing,

Don some lace now,

Pick your place now,

And remember you're his Wife.