Beach Ball In the Pool

Turning first to blue then red,
Yellow comes around to white,

As it floats around the edge,
And races to the sides,

Flying quick across the pool
The wind it’s motivator,

It hits and bounces the confines,
Of it’s blue watery prison,

Like billiards upon the surface,
It appears to me a game,

No winners and no losers,
Does it have to beat,

Floating at different speeds,
Or pausing for a moment,

Turning first from blue to red,
Yellow comes around to white,

There upon it circles,
Back upon itself.

Spending pleasant days.

Tea is for Sick People

I Hate Tea

You have something nice for me,
Oh, a nice hot brimming cup of tea,

That is a nice gesture a very kind act,
But I am not sick and that is a fact,

Oh you say that does not preclude,
The need for a calming tea interlude,

It does for me because I hate tea,
Tea the last thing I drink you see,

Because I hate the taste of tea,
It is something just not for me,



I do not care for tea at all,
Even in a glass icy and tall,

Not in a mug spicy and hot,
Would I want to have a spot,

Not in a cup of delicate bone china,
With what you would not serve a minor,

Do not attempt to serve it to me,
I despise the thought of tea you see.

Needed Touch

 The Needed Touch

Love without touch that's tender,
A touch you can no longer render,
The feeling of that loving hand,
Like the wisps of fine gentle sand,

















Tender touches light as feathers,


Showing what the heart endeavors.
Feeling  fingers up and down,
Showing love without a sound,















Oh, that touch you won't allow,


That you refrain from giving now,
Trapped inside you held at bay,
Never seeing the light of day,















Where is that touch that caress,


Day by day offered less and  less,
Does it hide in a place apart,
In deep crevices of your heart,















The sadness does not let it free,


Not now never extended  to me,
Soft sensations very much missed,
As well as being tenderly kissed,















True to you I will always be,
My heart will never set me free,
Memories will just have to do,
This is the price for loving you.

A boyfriend Substitue

So you want a massage chair for Christmas. That is a good thing to have. You can rest those weary and aching bones in a nice chair that has the extra added attraction of making you feel better . Watch it. It can be addictive. You might find yourself sitting in it all the time. It can become your special someone or your new paramour. This as told to me by a lady friend of mine who did get one last Christmas from a boyfriend.  I asked for him last time I heard from her. He is no longer in her life and that is too bad. She said he blamed it on that damn chair. This is what she told me about, THE CHAIR.

THE MASSAGE CHAIR

Push the button that's marked go,
Starts it off nice and slow,
Then it starts to pick up speed,
Giving me the jolt I need.

The quiet room starts to spin,
And in your mind you start to sin,
From every angle comes it's vibes,
Bringing forth sensuous sighs.

Carried off by shear delight,
You hold on to it very tight,
Your body shakes like a leaf,
As you begin to feel relief.

It brings you to another level,
You start your dance with the devil,
Sway to the music like vibrato,
Raising the tempo to wild staccato,

Then relax to quiet interlude.
Waiting again to for more altitude,
One more time it starts to flutter,
Flushed red lips then start to mutter.

Faster faster please don't stop,
Don't let this heightened feeling drop,
It obeys and quickens the dance,
Body pulsating to it's trance.

All of you starts to quiver,
As rapid beat it does deliver,
Then your mind you begin to lose,
Hoping please don't blow a fuse.

Oh wonderful chair magnificent seat,
Do it again let me feel the heat,
Oh fantasy chair so sublime,
Please get me off one more time.

What Happens In Vegas Stays In Vegas

Vegas is a place we all would like to be sometime or another. It is a place that seems to have it all when it comes to having a good time and getting some excitement under our belt. Or skirt, let's not forget the ladies. After all they are people too and enjoy a good time as well they should.

To Vegas.. yeah

Action action all around,
This is surly the devils town,

Lights glow bright and they glitter,
Making way for the heavy hitter,

My purpose is to hit them hard,
With the power of my debit card,

Pass those dice to my hands,
I'm now surrounded by my fans,

I cast the roll it's a winner,
I now excite another sinner,

Seven eleven is the call,
As the bones repeat their fall,

Little dots lay flat out,
Crazy fans start to shout,

Now the click of many chips,
Bring a smile to my lips,

Warm hot hands roll anew,
Gather round see what I do,

The cubes return in my direction,
Another roll of perfection,

One more time they come to me,
Oh damm it all I shot a three. 

For Grace of God

 A  Tragedy of  Life

A drunk walked up and began to speak,
Under old gray hat with bended peak,
An out stretched hand he extended,
For some money to be lend ed,

His mouth stood open but did not ask,
He could not even complete the task,
His legs were bent just like his hat,
 He made his way from where he sat,

His shoes were old and far from new,
He dragged his feet and shuffled through,
He stood before me eyes down cast,
I moved away till he had past,

A sorry sight for all to see,
But for grace of God go all of we.
He wound his way in between,
As from side to side he did lean,

A tattered coat he did wear,
No one cared to even stare,
Scruffy beard below his chin,
A lonely sight and a living sin,

Who was he once I did wonder,
What in life can  put asunder,
Maybe once with a family,
Living life like most of we,

Was he born to be like this,
All good things in life to miss,
Many things I did suppose,
Were there highs before the lows,

He continued down the street,
Now a symbol of a mans defeat.









 

The Golden Years

Golden Years, huh

Golden years, who coined the phrase,
Is it because you see a golden haze,
Going on through the hospital maze,
Of forms and papers that pay bills,
That you incur to cure your ills,
So to pay for pill refills ,

Golden years now that's a kick,
Just more time getting sick,
As time goes by tick by tick,
Golden years, I remain aghast,
You only talk of the past,
How this day may be your  last,

Giving advice to all who listen,
Not knowing in your pants you're pissin,
And talking while your teeth are missin,
Golden Years that's a joke,
All you are is just old folk,
That doctors prod and they poke,

Golden years what baloney,
That idea becomes so phoney,
Even when having lots of mony.
For men who wish extended life,
Be prepared for some more strife,
You will never out live your wife.