Not Poetry. Quatrain Verse in English & Swedish. Dagsverser. On the Mundane & the Arcane.
Here with her cute Grandma looks
she’s a Jewish princess
when in her kitchen she cooks
up a pile of blintzes
Food to break the Yom Kippur fast
though we’ve been eating all day
but in these bright times who’s aghast?
We’re still ‘breaking the fast’, ok?
How we atone with others & G-d:
we’re all chomping, no one winces
Faith yes, but we must nourish the bod
Don’t be bashful: Pass the blintzes!
With irrepressible intention
Joyce takes off for an intervention
An ever blossoming head turner
steeply she roars off from the house
as if by switched-on ‘afterburner’
Fades behind: a blown over spouse
who’ll be wobbling, gasping
in turbulent wake
from cheering, voice rasping
uncombed, stare opaque
Lost in irrelevancy’s realm
clasping pale at his flimsy helm
+)
-afterburner = a jet engine power booster engaged to briefly increase speed
-intervention = Joyce works as an (addiction) intervention specialist
She’s so superbly kinetic
stands ready to whack the weed
Stillness a painful emetic
she functions best at high speed
She’s perpetually Joyce
when invaded by task
never knows another choice
but in busy to bask
Takes off in a blaze
her face stern, drained
in hypnotic daze
to task ordained
Hers is always total focus
until all the effort spent
Then changes in phone booth locus
back, but briefly, to Claire Kent
+)
-Claire Kent = superwoman in civvies, equivalent (at least) of Clark Kent
Our bodies, minds now fraying
of erstwhile bounce bereft
Our wrinkles deepened, graying
hair of what little left
Years bland or full were they deft
countless days in reprise
Dragging us by heft & theft
closer to our demise
Arrived at earthly life’s edge
we must not age apart
allow between us no wedge
Together, let’s take heart!
Our bodies, minds now fraying
of erstwhile bounce bereft
Our wrinkles deepened, graying
hair of what little left
Years bland or full were they deft
countless days in reprise
Dragging us by heft & theft
closer to our demise
Arrived at earthly life’s edge
we must not age apart
allow between us no wedge
Together, let’s take heart!
Drawn on my years of observation of how my spouse has perfected this artful undertaking, viz.:
“Do not rush me, Time!
I need you to slow down
right now on the dime!
Just pulling on my gown!”
“I need you to wait!”
Her cheeks all flush
“I’m lavishly late
in frantic rush!”
By now Perfected Exit
after starting out slow
builds momentum til hectic
Now that’s a fire works show!
Steadily recurring drama
mere minutes til dressed from pajama
While to others would cause trauma
mere swift smooth routine for Grande Mama!
Plays out like a scorcher
with dashing deporture.
+)
-deporture = deportment: demeanor; conduct
-Time = to others inexorable while to my spouse time ought to instantly expand or contract perfectly synchronized to her shifting needs. Now that can’t be too much to ask for, can it?!
Her hair like flowing wheat
abundant, windswept
field fresh & earthy sweet
brimming of affect
Green eyes, cheeks in blossom
colorful splendor
smile of cheery caution
tender & slender
Since back when our first glance
my heart was brought to dance!
On leaving our homestead in Anten, Sweden, inspired by Joyce’s eyes moistening over:
Parting’s cool morning thronging
with borders to be crossed
Unrequited her longing
ailed in lingering lost
The old farm an indelible part
lodged lovingly in her tender heart
At night as become the rite
we blessedly tether
Then before the dawn’s scant light
we wake up together
We shall find comes daybreak
that the harsh world is still there
but jointly to partake
shall be easier to bear
We’re feeling supported thus bolder
when completed by each other
Watching over the other’s shoulder
glad to be here, nowhere rather
While one of us one day
may shiver alone
we shall suffer what may
But not bitter cold:
for by The Past’s glowing embers
warmed, as he or she remembers