Longitude Latitude Attitude

Where horizont and diagon meet
Linear points of time and measure
But you don’t know me

Key code familiarity
Easy-to-find places
But do you know where to find me?

Spin the globe gleefully
Close eyes and point
Slowly peek at index tip

Quest not, fire map
Finding me is easy

When you find you…
That is where I will be

Red line meets blue line
Attitude harmoniously


Calling You


I’ve been calling
No numbers dialed
Electronics none

Fiber optic
Don’t run that cable
No service in this area

I’ve been calling
Heart digital display
Hear my own ringtone play

Arms reaching
Ears strained
Pulse, beat goes my brain

Fingertip pulse away
Calling you …
Will it feel the same way?


This Day

You remind me of this day
Bluish-green feelings along the way
At first I remember and the smile eases the sun’s ray
But I told you last, I didn’t love you anyway

Seagulls calling on misty breeze lane
Daylight becomes nightfall in plain clothing shame
Sapphire waves claim loyalty to the gentleman caller game
Even a tippy-toe juvy knows the rules of the lion’s mane

You remind me of this day
Butterscotch afternoons were hazy with malaise
I can still recall the glance from the second store yesterday
Wrought-iron visual, callous facial display

Ah, the stars are twinkling and winking just for me, I say
I play fool to their wicked heart-warming disarray
I carved your name in soft petals, metal gray
But I told you first, I’d love you always


Pale Pose

If I could touch your mind,
the hands of clock would never change…

I’d sew seamless lines of patterned color,
and silk ribbon between threaded lanes…

If I could lift the weight ten thousand times,
your shoulders would be free…

Lean now into the wind,
there is no need to refuse the breeze… 

The sun has set upon you,
and the moon saved that last dance… 

Inhale night’s breath, posture pale pose,
shaded silhouette shadows of romance… 

“Just this once” chanted the clouds,
trust her heart to guide your soul!

My promise to you is void,
but lend my body and mind relentless…

Yours to behold~



As she walked down the corridor, fingertip trailing circles passing each door. “Svelte silouette” snickers the whimiscal wallpaper decor`.  Her gait changed just before the end of the unguided tour, pausing slowly at the opened, naked red door.

A slight tilt of the head, eyes gazing left and to right, as if traffic were passing thru her soul, caution the yellow light.  Stealth Prada heel beckons the next move, ahh the difference between corporate carpet and tile groove.  Such emotion, so little, so huge.

Photos of faces from unfamiliar places, neither here nor there.  Glancing self-assured through the passing flair.  I imagined the woman in black silk did her own hair.  I toyed with that notion as if I really cared.

Whispers of “Did she come alone?” was the page in chapter.  Saunters to the bar, noting the importance of jagged ice as a point of reference only after.  Was she nervous?  Came not a chortle nor laughter.

Drinking first sip, eyes lifted as if taking a head count would matter, smiling softly, barely a laugh, imagining the room in prisms of shatter.  At a muted, yet agreeable point, take solace in a Chintz chair, collectively remembering why I am justifiably unmedicated here.  Makes a mental note that the buffet was quite bare, accepting if it were there.

Tick tock, tick tock, time flies when you are having fun.  Shutter at making that mindless, simple pun.  Slowing gasps in, exhales a small whine, oh people, this party, sigh sigh sigh.

From the photographs dusted with grace, a mutual glance is received; how I did notice they were framed in 5 x 8  brass leaves.

The unmentionable  ‘party was delightful’ was said by not heard.  Yet fleeting thoughts of  ‘thank you for coming’ and kissing the temple was the cure. 

Stealth Prada heel beckons the curtain call, walks the runway, catwalk and all.  The corridor welcomes me with opened arms, my soul enchanted, as such I am charmed

Has the weather cooled?… pulling up my houndstooth collar, questioning with each step. 

How I do prefer the evening and the secrets kept. *a pink petal drops…*

Jemfyr ©

Read, Right and Blew ~Flag~

I was reading, Betsy Ross, wondering how the colors of red, white and blue were threaded through nimble fingers…the canvas of color, the history she made.

Was I right in perhaps she performed tailoring tasks for George Washington too? …who at the early age of six, he cut that beautiful, young English cherry tree …his father was not happy, the history he made.

Blew my mind when I read about flag desecration …the flames they burn …the heat, history hurt, walking on the graves…stop the history blaze!


Racing Droplet Play

*giggling with friends…* Really?  Sure you can’t come for a Latte` and sit with me a while longer?

*puts on a pink cottony artsy, t-shirt..random with flashes of color; mix of hard, bold black and beckoning pink come-play-with-me swirl* It’s so poppin’ with my black split with gray Prada sunglasses.  Applies fuschia lip color, smacks lips pop pop…shimmer shimmer body bronzer, Tahitian Tease-Me-Not Level II, nothing more on the canvas. 

*giggles at rain…* rolls eyes at umbrella, bore me bore me ~~skips out into rain while racing droplets play hopscotch on my hair..shakes it loose, jumps into black Jeep with Pioneer on, basses pumpin’, tweeters screamin and rockin my seat before I scooch in..*slides hands over wet hair..sleeking it back, checks mirror…ahhh…it is as it should be*  Taps neon green, pearly selector…tap taps to blue-zie, zippy, ooh me jazzy jazz jazz me muz me.

*sees rolling, periwinkle clouds winking at me…gray trying to be the big man cloud and cover her peri-ness; ahh there’s a rainbow in the making just..over….ovverr there, yes. Gray meets Periwinkle, harmonize for spacious skies, gray/periwinkle makes one, blushing full iridescent memory cottony foo foo puff..* If I can only crawl up there, I would never need a pillow or blanket…* Imagines a flightless feeling in a soundless journey.  Pink, Blink, There…*

All these colors of life; I have traveled less than a mile on four tires but a loving, tender journey of a lifetime to Cloud 9. 

Wonder what the Latte` will taste like?