Tag Archives: Home

Watch “Don McLean – Vincent ( Starry, Starry Night) With Lyrics” on YouTube LETTER TO MY HUSBAND ❤❤

My HUSBAND is beautiful inside and out he loves me cause he knows exactly why I love him just the way he is when he’s tired

My husband is so precious

He comes home so tired after entertaining the world with kindness

I hear his breath as he cuddles me catching in his throat

Oh my, that strong body against mine stirs my soul like no other, the yearning for his touch

Gently whisper stay still my BELOVED husband as his body melts away with a le Sigh…

I love the way his eyes shine when he watches me
He trembles when he looks down to my eyes
I feel his body against mine quivering
His breath as he lowers his mouth to mine
Burns my soul
On fire

As I stroke his face he stires ..shhh sleep my Husband we have a lifetime

How did I get so lucky ❤


Going Home

Until tonight they were separate specialties,
different stories, the best of their own worst.
Riding my warm cabin home, I remember Betsy’s
laughter; she laughed as you did, Rose, at the first
story. Someday, I promised her, I’ll be someone
going somewhere and we plotted it in the humdrum
school for proper girls. The next April the plane
bucked me like a horse, my elevators turned
and fear blew down my throat, that last profane
gauge of a stomach coming up. And then returned
to land, as unlovely as any seasick sailor,
sincerely eighteen; my first story, my funny failure.
Maybe Rose, there is always another story,
better unsaid, grim or flat or predatory.
Half a mile down the lights of the in-between cities
turn up their eyes at me. And I remember Betsy’s
story, the April night of the civilian air crash
and her sudden name misspelled in the evening paper,
the interior of shock and the paper gone in the trash
ten years now. She used the return ticket I gave her.
This was the rude kill of her; two planes cracking
in mid-air over Washington, like blind birds.
And the picking up afterwards, the morticians tracking
bodies in the Potomac and piecing them like boards
to make a leg or a face. There is only her miniature
photograph left, too long now for fear to remember.
Special tonight because I made her into a story
that I grew to know and savor.
A reason to worry,
Rose, when you fix an old death like that,
and outliving the impact, to find you’ve pretended.
We bank over Boston. I am safe. I put on my hat.
I am almost someone going home. The story has ended.


“FINDING HOME!” a poem within a poem Friday: Sept. 28, 2018

“DADDY, DADDY, please, please let-me-go-HOME!”

“Well-Honey! You-might-discover-IT (pause) in-a-special-poem!”

“This-here; this-here! Is not HOME!

So, I-went-to-the-beach! and soaked in ‘the foam!’ “

There are so many oceans! All-over I did roam:

Still! I-never-found-IT! (I) Never found my HOME!

I like(d) to read! So I-searched every tome –

Concerning-directions! to guide me HOME!

Kubla Khan – built-The-Pleasure-Dome;

Will-pleasure guide me? Bring me HOME?

Asleep-in-bed – In dreams I would “comb,”

To find some directions – so-I-could-find-me-my-HOME!

No! (sigh) Not-in-bed!* Shall-I-dig-in-the-loam?

I’ll-dig-an-Earthly-portal! It-will take me HOME!

So, I dug me a tunnel – and found me a gnome,**

Who pointed the way (he-said!) – to-my precious HOME!

The Gnome (that’s known as Facebook) prescribed to me The Ohm,***

Which I then recited (repeatedly) – until I found a poem,

Called ONCE UPON A TIME (or HOME), I think – this is how it goes:

ONCE UPON A TIME … BEFORE TIME … [written/posted: July 17, 2015]


WE MET INSIDE a flower, before the cup did bloom. So, we were pressed together, inside our little room. The flower smelled like lotus and savory cherry wine. We knew that, in a moment, upon our love, we’d dine. (S)he whispered that (s)he loved me and nibbled on my ear. When you’re wrapped inside a lotus, there’s nothing that you fear.


When you’re wrapped within a flower, and it’s where you want to be, the lips of your condition, whisper, “Mon Cheri.” Yet, brush of breath caresses, touching petals still. And inception, very gently, awakens every will. Yet, what sadness pain will offer? Who can really say? But, our process, born of seeking, it is the sacred way! When suffering meets the lotus, with a joyful song, then, NOTHING’S LOST AND NOTHING’S GAINED, and things just get along!

HOME … a.k.a.: “H-ohm!”

I found myself in YOU; you-find-yourself-in-me; I knew-it in a moment! [You’re]-My Lotus Company! I find my HOME-WHEN-I-think-of-you – or WHEN I see your face; I re-discovered HOME, Sweet Home, (while) lost-in-the-human race! HOME is WHERE my Heart is! My-Heart’s-a-“shooting star!” My-Heart!-Your-Heart-in-the-Heart-of-God! HOME is WHO we are!

And, when I read it faithfully, what do you suppose?

I found THIS LOTUS FLOWER might-be-a-HOME-for-me;

I wondered who the poet was – so I sought him out with glee:

It was a Texas Cowboy, know as The Mystic Poet!

“Hey, Hey!” I said; “This-guy’s-for-me! I-surely-think-I-know-it!”

Well, sure enough – I found IT – My HOME, at last, with him –

And-he-found-his-HOME-too-I’m-sure! Before? His life was grim,

But, NOW, we two, we lay in BED – our HOME’s there every day,

And ALSO on The BEACH-that’s-right! We feel the ocean spray,

And-we-burrow-deep, within The Earth – and roll upon the sod,


(Your Lover’s truly GOD!)

And, wherever-we-are is a Pleasure Dome; we kiss and touch and cuddle,

Beside the fireplace – on thick, warm rugs – or – splashing in a puddle,

When we go walking (in the rain)! I’ve found my HOME, alright;

Our pinkies squeeze, our blood co-mingles – my life is filled with Light!

So, that’s my story! (pause)


And, when you find – that-special-someone,

HOME’s-with that (Your) “Soul(full) Mate!” 🙂 – Whoopee!

fin. ❤


* – I guess!

** – pronounced: “N – ohm!”

*** – a nice word to repeat, if feel like it! 🙂 – pronounced “Oh – Mmm!”

Letter to my Husband 💙💙

They came to tell your faults to me,
They named them over one by one;
I laughed aloud when they were done,
I knew them all so well before, —
Oh, they were blind, too blind to see
Your faults had made me love you more

“RITA COOLIDGE We’re all alone (1977)” on YouTube