dVerse Poetics: Rain rein reign

Today Lillian is hosting Poetics at dVerse Poets Pub. She is asking that we rain on, rein in, reign over…just don’t rain on her parade! No doom and gloom, no politics, no naysayers – sounds like a plan to me! The Pub opens at 3:00 pm EST. Bring your best umbrella, your best scepter, your best horse!

Lovely Day
I remember when I was a little girl –
but then I’ve always been little –
Dancing on our front porch while
the rain came down.
Isn’t it a lovely day….
Spring rain happy,
summer rain quick,
autumn rain melancholy,
winter rain snowy…
I was by turns Fred Astaire
and then I was Ginger Rogers.
Dancing on the walkway in front of the house,
Dancing on the walkway around the house,
Dancing dancing dancing.
I remember taking you out into the rain
and dancing –
You threw back your head and laughed.
You had never danced in the rain before.
Like a summer rain you came and went.

I still dance in the rain.
I wear Wellies now –
Hello Kitty!

public domain photo

Sometimes, I still surprise my husband…

Tonight, in TV wasteland (it’s only TV wasteland….) my husband happened upon Saturday Night Fever.  I begged him to please watch something more amusing, such as the Walking Dead, but he was insistent.  I sighed and resigned myself.  Okay, I know how to deal with this, I sez to myself.

Having been a disco inferno – 10 pm – 4 am worshiper at the shrine of disco, I knew what to do.  As soon as the movie went into action, I went with it, scene by scene…swingin’ the paint can, arguing about the bloody pork chop….he was annoyed until this scene started and I matched John step by step, beat by beat.

As soon as it was over, my beloved hit the off button on the remote and said to me:  I knew you did the disco rounds and I’ve seen you dance ballroom, but at 62, you just put Travolta to shame.  I smiled and nodded and said, “and your point?”

He said, you are a dangerous woman – and when I grow up, I want to dance like that.  I shrugged. “My dear, I hope you dance better.”

So…..keep some things secret ladies…and pull out those secrets when they will make the most impact….

I’m still keeping my air guitar impression of Pete Townsend doing Baba O’Reilly for another day.

Moonlight, Kendo, Coffee spoons, Perfect Cherry Blossoms, and Springsteen

 

Regret, melancholy, walling oneself up alive,
Breaking down the wall,
Blowing that spark into a fire,
Doing kendo in the dark.
 
We make choices
We make sacrifices
We love deeply and intensely
We seek perfection and only at the last moment
Do we realize a thing was perfect all the time.
 
Living life by carefully dipped measures
Afraid to move to take chances to open up again.
But being brave enough to let the wind of change
Turn that last spark in us into a conflagration.
 
Turning up the MP3 full blast
Springsteen in all his rampant pounding wailing.
Dancing in the moonlight,
Doing kendo in the dark.
 
Lifting my shinai to the moon
And laughing aloud.
I remember when I taught my love how to dance
How to rhumba to jive to hustle
How to move his hips and shake his butt
He taught me how to do kendo in the dark.
Now I’m learning again.
 
I’m not bricking up that wall again.
I’m piling up perfect cherry blossoms
In all the cracks of my days.
Decadent display of pink and white.
I’m driving too fast and listening
To Springsteen too loud.
(Oops girl, slow down – that county mountie
Looked too hard at you whizzing past!) <huge grin>
 
I’m not measuring the moonlight
By coffee spoons.
I’m bathing in it and being profligate.
No regrets, no retreat, no surrender.
I’m starting a fire.
I’m relighting passion
I’m thinking of love
And doing kendo in the dark.

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