LoveRoads

There are two types

Of love roads one

Is flat and straight

And long disappearing somewhere

Off yonder way out

There that even squinting

And shading ones eyes

You can’t tell just

How far forever is

The other is winding

And weaving and challenging

One that requires concentration

And stamina and expertise

One that is full

Of careening cliffs and

Tight curves and acceleration

And hard braking and

Heart breaking sudden stops

But in hindsight if

You were to stretch

Out the curvy one

And lay it alongside

The straight one you’d

See that both cover

The exact same distance

It all depends on

You which one that

You’d prefer to travel

Sometimes one sometimes both

It’s never the destination

It’s always getting there

EndOfThings

It seems to me

That the ends of

Things either go out

With bang or sizzle

Either a shot or

A sip either a

Boom or a fizzle

Either an ahh or

An oh I guess

That most things end

After other things do

Affection or money or

Time or even patience

I do wish though

That relationships were more

Like clothes when something

No longer fits it’s

Blatantly obvious it doesn’t

TasteAndDecide

You know that part

Of figuring out what

You do want is

Experiencing what you don’t

The heart is like

The tongue in order

To learn what you

Like you’ve got to

Be brave enough to

Take that first bite

HappyMothersDay

Love knows no age

Nor does it know

Time it doesn’t recognize

Distance nor does it

Ever really make rhyme

It’s never ever easy

And it’s always surprising

Love is like air

After drowning it’s like

Water after running it’s

Like fire after freezing

Love is a blanket

That someone covers you

With while you’re napping

Love is so many

Things that if we

Just stopped to think

For a moment we’d

Realize that yes we’ve

Been in love so

Many many times before

Starting with our mom

HuhHmmBlah

And so we had

What we thought that

We should have had

But now having had

What we actually thought

Was ours to have

We sit here wondering

Wasn’t it better then

When we were hoping

Rather than actually having

Had what we wanted

Why is it that

The anticipation of things

Seems to always be

Better than the thing

Itself it’s like after

The zip boom bah

And oh ooo ah

We go back to

The huh hmm blah