marigolds line the path to my outside home
it’s a cottage garden, which gives me joy
against the walls of my she-shed are tall pink hollyhocks
they look like upside down skirts with yellow bloomers showing
they are fuzzy if you graze them gently with a finger
there used to be roses, but they are gone now
a large potted fern waves a friendly hello as I approach
I feel loved here, among those I have planted and nurtured
Never knowing I had a green thumb until I retired.
The joy I derive from my plants cannot be put into words.
I sit back on the chaise lounge cushions and breathe
There is nothing as rejuvenating as country air.
Feeling refreshed. I am in awe of what I have built
apple blossoms above my head tease my eyes to the sky
I thank God for this garden.
I’d like an hour with a psychiatrist
To discover what I already know
A deep releasing conversation
Go places I dare not go
I’d lie back on a chaise lounge
I don’t care if it’s a woman or a man
I’d go deep into the recesses
As truthfully as I can
Maybe then I could sleep peacefully
Though I confess I’ve done nothing bad
I would understand who I really am
A piece of mum and dad.
My inner thoughts and fears
And all the things that scare
Maybe I’d burst into tears
Maybe, there's nothing to repair?
David Cox 01/07/22
I rise up
Off the chaise lounge,
And greet the garden....
The tiger Lily’s
Are orange freckled faces
Soft as talc,
The morning dewdrops pose
Expanding like a ballerinas tutu.
Now I pause
To watch the roving buck
Pass through......like a
sentient being
The antlers are miniature trees reaching
to the sky,
Silent, he is the guardian of the
Countryside
In midsummer.
Here everybody drains the swamp
The chunks of toxic glitter
And brazen meat
Intelligible only to the daunted fool
Who filled it so
Pour the acid wash
Of peace and indulgence
To cleanse the slop o’ plenty
Time for mixes and fixes
That clear paths meant
For hot-air balloon rides
The kind that tussle deep in minds
Your liquid child
Who gulps, swallows and bears
The scorekeeper’s duties
Flits to the sounds of no one
The barracks are full this morning
Everyone spent from their rustic tasks
And yet for each
An adventure conducted
A melee for the me, the you
Which song was meant for
Nature, well-planted
Well-colored and ready to play
Nurture, whipped and spun
By the gunslinger’s steady hand
Brought together by
The collective spirit
Lurking in each room
Strewn, lathered across
Each chaise lounge
Splashing, soaking
In the wet, cool debris
Healthy debris
Doggy bags supplied
To bring home
The leftovers
Eager to be consumed.
(6/10/18)
From the violin of lady fair
soft classical notes fill the air.
soothing music floats through open french doors
carried on a summer breeze
billowing lace curtains
As I lie upon the chaise lounge
in and out of sleep I doze.
Sweet melody a lullaby.
Heavy eyelids begin to close.
Deep in my slumber
he comes to me in a dream.
In his arms I swoon
as we waltz to Blue Danube.
Forever let it play on.
Broken Wing's contest.
It's All About Four.
23/04/2018
My husband wants a big pussy - he's crazy,
draped over chaise-lounge in conservatory,
I said that it would cost a fortune to feed,
to have such an adornment, there is no need.
It would demolish the neighbour's tabby cat,
cause indentations, droppings, wherever it sat;
he said: 'Don't worry, I'll take it for trainimg,'
glimpses of rosettes whenever it's raining.
There might even be pregnant paws, pushing
me aside with it's ****, going thro' open doors,
I'll have to warn friends when they come round:
'It's sleeping now, for godssake don't make a sound.'
So forestall such grandiose ideas whatever you do,
I said to him: 'Please take that cat back to the bloody zoo!'
Twenty cigarette ashes in the ivory ashtray
Symbol of the impatience burned as smoke
The inamorata sits in the pink chaise lounge
Waiting for inamorato arriving to love nest
Photos found under the bed tied off an arguing
Another affair developed without her knowledge
Feeling betrayed, although fidelity was not an asset
Stripped photos and dispersed pieces over the bed
Inamorato opened the bedroom door and screamed
Hidden dalliance loomed as as a storm in the future
Reproaches ended with the rupture of unlawful love
Leaving forever the tormentous and sinful romance
(Fictional)
Everyone who has money
should drop it in a vat and
anyone who needs money
should take what they need
a Swede, a Dane and two
Norwegians tell Fred, also an
economist who flew in from Yale.
After a three-day seminar in the
Antarctic, the four men sit down
with tankards of ale, each comfy
in a chaise lounge chair on
an ice floe slowly melting.
Back at Yale, CNN interviews Fred
about his book on the seminar.
The CIA is now investigating.
Donal Mahoney
Another sweltering day
soaking up all the summer sun has to offer
The trade winds blow but offer no relief
slowly I sip on a frozen peach margarita
ice cold to the touch, but melting fast
water droplets roll down cooling my wrist
bringing back memories
memories of that cool December day
your first taste of snow
how I didn't even know
that gleam in your eye
when we made those snow angels
they seemed to come alive
all those laughs, your giggle
so much more than a memory
building that tiny igloo
you dragging me in
giving me that big kiss
for the night, the perfect inn
hot cocoa sitting round the open fire
you in my arms
you captured my heart
and all my desire
such a sweet time.
Opening my eyes I turn to you
half-asleep on that chaise lounge
kiss your hand
and whisper I love you
We were golfing in the morning
It was me and my friend Bill
We were on hole number seven
Everything was going well
I drove my ball straight down the fairway
The shot was pretty nice
Bill leaned hard into his shot
But he had a tendency to slice
It disappeared toward the Condos
We could hear a frightening crash
The picture window tinkled down
Pieces lying on the sash
He said I must go and apologize
To the lady in the place
He found her lying in her chaise lounge
Dressed in frilly things and lace
He went in to check the damage
That he’d done to her place
He came out two hours later
With a big smile on his face
She said don’t worry ‘bout the damage
I already have been paid
My day has started very nicely now
What a difference it has made
I may have lost a window
But the breaks been very nice
You can stop in any time
It has been a slice
Lovely scented flowers,
hanging like clusters of grapes…
Covering my arbor, shading
the sun from my face…
Your scent sends me into
dreamland…
With my eyes closed, relaxing
on my chaise lounge and dreaming
of paradise…
No distracting sounds, a cool
breeze with mildly warm
temperature only enhances your
intense fragrance…
By Sandra Lea Hoban
©2009
You held me in the palm of your hand, You put me in the Earth,
You coddled me: YOU covered me in dirt; anticipating my birth.
I put nature’s warm blanket of fluffy, crisp, snow over my head.
Crawl into a fetal position, and for the duration of winter I go to bed.
Springtime comes, I awake, stretch little arms Towards a yellow strobe.
I feel a warmth from this far away, high in the sky; Brilliant Globe.
I wriggle newborn tiny toes, in the cool, moist, ground; each one grows.
The warm breeze, moves my sapling arms, the sun heats my shoots.
From a tiny, tiny acorn, to the Oak I will become; I can trace my roots.
Through the years, YOU’VE nurtured me, I’VE grown tall and strong.
Pitter-patter, pitter-patter the rain sings to me; a sweet and loving song.
Fifty years Together : your old and I’m still young and in my Prime.
You rest in a Chaise lounge under my limbs : Shade in the Summer Time.
You held me in the palm of your hand, You put me in the Earth,
You coddled me: YOU covered me in dirt; anticipating my birth.
I put nature’s warm blanket of fluffy, crisp, snow over my head.
Crawl into a fetal position, and for the duration of winter I go to bed.
Springtime comes, I awake, stretch little arms Towards a yellow strobe.
I feel a warmth from this far away, high in the sky; Brilliant Globe.
I wriggle newborn tiny toes, in the cool, moist, ground; each one grows.
The warm breeze, moves my sapling arms, the sun heats my shoots.
From a tiny, tiny acorn, to the Oak I will become; I can trace my roots.
Through the years, YOU’VE nurtured me, I’VE grown tall and strong.
Pitter-patter, pitter-patter the rain sings to me; a sweet and loving song.
Fifty years Together : your old and I’m still young and in my Prime.
You rest in a Chaise lounge under my limbs : Shade in the Summer Time.