Blanche

The beautiful blonde Mother to all enthusiastic to vigorous negotiations with lots of spunk she takes no bunk open to new revelations

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Pious

Pious negotiations burn like bitter lemons

grubbing in and out of major scrapes

washing fluids from your eyes

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Observer

slightest slip of thought grapples with my mind

words are said with delicate rapidity 

ardently stroking the suppleness of the skin

like a tree amiss the placid water

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Swimming

Thoughts and frustrations bloat the mind

Like chlorinated water going up your nose

The water so relaxing can engulf and overload

Like waves of emotions sent all the way down to your toes

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Mantra

Opening one Eye you see your Nose
After all if you tell a Lie it Grows
When it seems like you are about to Quit
Throw up you Arms and throw a Fit
Believe in Yourself you are the Shit
And Match them all with your Clever Wit

A prayer

How your eyes have Whitened with moist wisdom
age has forgotten the truths whispered by your once enlarged retinas
with the protective layers down illusionary mechanics have set in
to touch your skin would be like death of the soul that has passed
I will bury it and let it morph into the cocoon that has cracked
and the Precipitation will become the puddle placed at the door
where it welcomes you home for the Sabbath

Grandma

In perfect bliss we bake
with a pinch and a roll
and we sit side by side
our hearts roll out the dough
I cherish the dough you give me
and stuff it up my nose
trying just a nibble
wanting more dough
but in the end it's all delicious
how the needing is just so

Our Wedding Day

There was a sliver in the sky and so the Ayn Sof appeared
The Ocean was reaching up to give us a high five
On a Cliff in Mexico the Angels sang
Mazletov Mazletov Mazletov
and your tears of Joy blew me Kisses in the Wind
and I shared them with G'D above and below

Ayin

There are Needles in my fingers
They point to all that lingers
A Menagerie of sound
Like threads that are bound
And Whispers that are kept
From the tears that were wept
Swiped from the Mind that was kept
Upon the Ayin that was Deft

Sarah's Birthday Poem

Where is the Mermaid as she floats away
Not on the surface but in the midst of the ocean spray
Her tail makes soft hums for her to sing with
And the Sea Horses strum on her flowing hair
Entranced by the Whoomph of the wind
Translucently she will blend
It matters not the ending
For the Ocean is always bending