Takes one to know one, and takes two
For tangos and teas all day through
And maybe some wine to define
Who of us is more out of mind
Takes a night to know light of the day
Takes a breath to be taken away
Takes you for a time we have spent
Takes letters that hasn’t been sent
Takes love to fly thousands of miles
Takes lifetime to step on your tiles
Takes clouds for pouring rains
Takes wind to blow over our names..
the rooms grow smaller
quieter
after every departure
clicks the latch
they're built to keep
weather out
not harbor grudges
that echoes leave behind
forks, vases, plates and pens
settle into their places,
as though, they're expected
the yellow walls
once held afternoon teas,
until the laughter
sealed the paint
and screened the light
the banister
smooths its touch
before any hand
remembers its feel
the curtains
lift their seams
peering underneath
themselves
the stairs
borrow sunlight
for the tread of feet
the kettle
answers itself
in a kerfuffle
chorus of steam
the floorboards
clear their throats
one board
too soon
the hallway
widens for every
shadow
still waiting
outside
every afternoon
rehearses mornings
one curtain call
at a time
the dust learns
the shape
of fingertips
the chairs
lean much closer in
to listen
the doormat
combs its
greeting nap
every echo
tries on
a different voice
as the house
leaves
the door
ajar
for no one
Pirate boy stopped by one day to try out three of my teas
He especially like the ones that ended with some sort of berries
boysenberry, cherry, and raspberry he took with him to the seven seas
his parrot was fond of our pastries, and used the magic word, please.
So, we sent him with a tin of our best chocolate chip cookies.
We read of their adventures, and could almost feel the sea breeze.
Pirate boy and parrot sent us a missive from the Isle of Carpi.
Alas, they told us, we are down to one single cooky.
That day I had to forgo school, I guess played hooky.
For I wanted to send them cookies, biscuits and a scone.
Because I could tell they were sorry they had ever left home.
They sent us a marvelous thank you note in the form of a poem
Erasing doom avowing the dreams to consume
Walking backwards nights fading headed toward minty teas
Chains broken by Love freely given
Silver bones and copper blood
Quakes follow the raven driven
Snakes swarm the dogs prison
Knights fly toward sun awakened
Rightly excited to greet my best friend
Waving toward your amazing zen
Alive forever cause I live within your heart
Gourmets everyday wheeze
More moreish morsels tease
Picnics Ploughmans picky teas
No duds taste buds floods please
Those with epicurean degrees
Sees the wood from the trees
Knows.. chose with ease the DB's
Dairy fairy sybaritic disease
Whiffs waft on the breeze
Stole my heart kept the keys
So good the Bee's Knees
Seize the day with CHEESE pleas
Wanting to develop a
line of sandwiches
he labored with freinds
to get the right taste
and combinations
that with flavor
would intensify folks
need to be satisfied.
quality ingredeints
with concern to the
freshness and a detail
to perfection. He baked his own
rolls
made his own sauces
gground his own meats
and found the perfect deli to
buy cheeses and deli meats
the condiments were from suppliers
who loved to make great items.
The first food carts he took out
daily. With coffees and teas and water.
He sold Cuban porc sandwiches.
All American Burgers
Great sage and fennel sausages sandwiches
with relishes that were
savory-sweet and tangy.
When I'd go out with him
I'd say "Aye- Mista, toast my bread
and put the garlic spread
on it with swiss and chedda"
he'd tell me "you know me better
then that we gotta make it specail"
And he did, once I got a hot roast beef with
swiss and chedder with carmelized onions and garlic
on a toasted bun, it was so great" The fries
and the soda.
Perfecto, aint that right Catchey?
Catchey say's it's right.
Written: November 13, 2025, for contest sponsored by Joseph May.
" Inspired by the song: 'Like a Wounded Bird Trying to Fly' sung by Kurt Vile.
*****************
Like a wounded bird trying to fly,
I flapped through a mellifluous sky—
not quite broken, not quite bold,
just chasing warmth over winds grown cold.
I strummed my soul on an equine red,
while ghosts of my father rode rails in my head.
My mother, shrewd, stitched up our knees—
with eleemosynary grace and teas.
Now I sit where the green ferns grow,
my kids disport in the woods below.
There’s an imbroglio in my chest—
a luculent ache I can’t arrest.
So if you find me, don’t ask why
I’m like a wounded bird trying to fly.
It is only my style of saying goodbye—
to the weight, the waste, the wondering why.
'Tis the season of the spooks!
Don't look into dark corners or nooks.
Laughing pumpkins and witchy hats,
Dancing brooms and flying bats.
Evening teas with Casper and Frankenstein,
Don't look under the bed once the clock strikes nine!
You have no eyes that i can see.
Yet my dear Android Succubus feel free to love me.
I want to say, you look hot in that pink dress.
And I began to blush with desire, hot and red.
Tell me all your secrets I want hear it all.
And please don't tell me I can't process it all.
Cheers to you me and our new found friendship.
I do like my herbal teas with some lemon and honey please.
Sweet Jesus how did I get to this dimension.
On top of that you will never need a hip replacement.
I am a coconut tree swaying in the breeze,
here in the warm sand I will never freeze.
My big coconuts you cannot squeeze,
but you can add my juice to your teas.
I am loved by the big yellow bees,
bees also love to use water skis.
On this island of coconut trees,
I watch the visitors eating fruits with cheese.
The young men love to climb me to look at the seas,
saying no rain please.
I went to the store, and right back out the door,
It left me feeling kinda funny.
No chips, candy or teas or soda for me,
Because I forgot my money.
Oh, well, I say and continue my day,
At least it is mostly sunny.
In the midst of grief
I find myself chasing sleep
I have tried sleepy time teas
and kitty cuddles to please
help me lasso the moon
and find some sleep soon
but no, it evades
and I feel like I will fade
Every pirate west of the Caribbean had heard of Captain Gary Bee.
He was reputed to be way younger than the next captain at twenty-three.
We were anxious to meet him, so we invited him to tea.
He strutted in with short pants, that barely covered up a knee.
It is rude to ask pirate captains their age, so we did not.
But he could not have been a decade older than a tot.
He spoke with polish and finesse', was unassuming and not brassy.
After a lunch of bean curd and bean salad, he was a bit gassy.
Excuse me! He said after each burp, belch and break of wind.
We thought he was delightful; he became an instant friend.
Captain Gary Bee, the notorious pirate king of the seven Seas
I was glad he decided to stop in often for our cakes and teas.
Jam First then cream,
Scone not scone
Fulfill that elusive dream.
“Its not ideal” I often scream
But its something that people often moan
Jam first then cream
And yet to the heaven as they careen
To hear the folk who often drone
Fulfill that elusive dream
How people with their teas preen
And how the others should atone
Jam first then cream.
Surrender your Englishness become clean
You’ll never feel again alone
Fulfill that elusive dream.
You are perfect do whatever you mean
Scone not scone
Fulfill that elusive dream
But please remember, Jam first then cream.
When I speak a foreign language
I cross my eyes and dot my teas
Little wonder I substitute ~
‘Thank you’ for ‘Please’
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