Play Time

Walk in and don the tiny shorts and sexy skin-tight shirt,

You’ll need to show all that you’ve got to make it big in here.

Stretch it out and loosen up, otherwise it’s gonna hurt,

Now take a deep breath, pop a mint, and swallow any fear.

Flash a smile at your partner, then glimpse at your reflection,

Butterflies got you all tingly, but it’s time to start the show.

Last thing before you start to play – don’t forget protection,

Deep breath, and start your warm-up, to begin just take it slow.

Now it’s coming right at you so call out like you want it,

All the practice you’ve put in will better your performance,

Be loud, be proud, you know the way, you have the talent – flaunt it.

Let the adrenaline own you; live solely for these moments

And when you let the ball drop, don’t let your spark diminish,

Just move on to the next point, toss, step, hit and finish.

A Chef's Advice

Tears I Cry

This one’s for my sister

Sobbing through the long lost nights.

Despairing for an exit,

For her brave and feisty soul.

She saw a spark and followed it through,

Now she wears those boots,

And that green,

With fragile, but, enormous pride.  

And this one’s for my cousin,

Wherever he may be.

I imagine him high on a hill,

With battered boots,

And exhausted eyes.

Standing watch,

Keeping guard.

And all the way across the Atlantic

I feel the pain of his mother’s fear.

And this one’s for my best friend,

Who first tied his soldier’s boots.

Before he taught him how to shoot,

To fight,

To be.

Then watched him curl

And writhe

And groan

As the neighbors left him there to die. 

And this one’s for my lover

Who watches from afar

He lusts for his own

Pair of boots,

For a chance,

At the fight.

I too wish he could

Join the war for who we are.

And this one’s for my people

Dying from forever’s hope.

Endlessly waiting for never to succumb,

For the day we collect all the boots,

Toss them in a bag,

And throw them carelessly into the peaceful wind.  

Childhood Memory Poem

The candles were ours,

The lights were not.

Our cheeks flushed red,

Straight in from the cold

With haste we made

For the bed unmade,

Tiny snowflakes fall from our hair

Surely they won’t find us there.

Under the bed,

We cautiously crawl

“Shh! Not so loud!”

If they hear us, we’re done.

Huddle together,

We’ll fit it we cuddle

It’s the only way,

The oldest insists.

The crickety bed creaks,

The drippy ceiling leaks.

With our breaths are held tight,

Someone turns on the light.

When we hear them come in,

The suspense settles in,

“Where could the girls be?"

Wondered sarcastically. 

With an eruption of giggles

We know what we await, 

We've been found - out we crawl, 

To our awaiting fate.

But tonight’s fate is sweet,

And it’s not off to sleep,

First a victory dance,

Then collapse on the couch.

The most enchanting of winter nights

By our fire, but not our lights                                             

In the happiest of places,

Were our six warm and smiling faces.