A Reason To Be

I love to giggle. I adore it even more when a man’s wit creates the sound.

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Lifetime

a lifetime
thinking it over
all the joys
the sadness
imprinting generations
building our strength

3/5/3/3/7/5 Shadorma Poetry

***

Nothing like a box Chevy (during a rebuild), booze, old country music and big brother’s barn on a Friday night. Baby, Middle and Red claiming seats as big brother chuckles. None of us would have it any other way. I love when we get together and laugh over ourselves.

Everyone’s version of our story is a little different, but oh we four see it the same… I love’em!

Day Two – Red Headed Woman

Ms. Heartafire wants me to share my musical interests as part of the five day song challenge. Thanks for having me, Sister Ginger. I think you’ll like this one as much as I do..

The rules:

POST A SONG A DAY FOR FIVE CONSECUTIVE DAYS.
POST WHAT THE LYRICS MEAN TO YOU.  (OPTIONAL)
POST THE NAME OF THE SONG AND VIDEO.
NOMINATE 1 OR 2 BLOGGERS EACH DAY OF THE CHALLENGE (I’ve made this optional…hoping that’s okay. If you want to participate, tell them I made you. 😉 )

Day Two: Bruce Springsteen’s Red Headed Woman

What the lyrics mean to me: I like knowing there’s a man who enjoys a redhead. Enough to sing a song about them, too. Not enough songs or poems about redheads if you ask me. Smiles. 

This song makes me laugh every time I hear it. The man knows what he’s talking about…!

Enjoy..

I’m Not An Italian Poetess

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Typical Monday, it seems. Tried making lunch, while writing my feelings. Epic fail ensues, as thoughts continue to pursue my mind. Forcing me so easily to forget the time.

Poet’s are always lyrical, definitely this one, it seems. I can’t get past writing this as poetry. Stick a knife in my side. Please, won’t you abide? My friends, don’t write and bake, unless burned pizza is all you’re willing to take. My wishes sincere, once again, don’t do both while planning to eat, you won’t win.

Thankful I have a few other attributes that keep you coming around. Like maybe my smile or even my frowns. Tears shower plenty upon these walls, oh God, stop her before she continues to pitfall.

Laughter begins, oh look, a grin! Yep, tis possible, she’s drunk again. No, my friends, it isn’t so. I’m just handling a Monday, so far as this one goes…

Loyal followers, stay with me, please. This is only going to hurt for a minute. Slap happy grins is how I’ll spin it, you’ll see.

***
She’ll never be an Italian chef
and poetess, too
just look at what
wandering thoughts
can do…

Writer’s multitasking summer,
kitchen’s a wreck,
lovely ideas interrupt
baking, for endless possibilities,
if only I would’ve stopped to check…

This homemade pizza now crisp
and slightly burned, tis true
thankful, in the end
this treat,
is simply a vessel for brew…

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I should go back into the Houston sun. It’s just delightfully hot and humid here. Yeah, I know, I’m almost done. The end is near…

Yours,
Audrey

Sheer Focus

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Just beyond this perfection,
Hard to change your focus, I know,
But, please do.
Overlook, no matter how hard it is,
Notice the wild grass protecting her,
I’m in love, I confess,
With verdant offerings.
Little bursts of flowers,
Purple and yellow,
Visions of wheat,
Now between your teeth,
Perhaps placed, behind your ear.
Earth, tickling my cheek, sprouting,
Life sways, as I try to convince,
Subtle beauty, I tease, can be just as intense.
Spring’s sky, perfectly blue,
Your smile, while we’re here,
Gently becomes our collective laugh,
As our eyes gaze upon her once again.
That one there… the one we looked past,
Her name: Sheer tangerine,
Count her petals,
Tell me she looks like me.