it's a little dark in here

hallow halls with crimson walls and air that’s thick as cotton

have you seen the trip to the very bottom?

a consequence of living in my head and in my bed cursing those around me

do you know the way to santa fe?

where i can warm my buns as the suns rays heat the sand around me.

are we there yet please?

i long for lazy days with no craze of schedules to get my ire up.

a  quiet time where full is only in my cup.

i miss the cherubs and back rubs and staying up too late.

in summer heavy stresses do abate.

it’s almost time for bikini tops and cute flip flops or even to go without.

cool summer evenings we lay listening to the katydids shout.

good bye to those crimson halls until the call of fall we hear

taking with it my hope as the schedules my calm it shears

i know it’s wrong, i like to keep them with me home.

when they go back it’s a heavy attack, it leaves me so alone.

8 responses to “it's a little dark in here”

  1. Holly B

    It will be all too soon and the crotch fruit will be on school break and the ever constant “I’m bored” will be the mantra of the day.

  2. EH Shuba

    i had to read this a couple of times to get “crotch fruit”.  love it, may i use it?

  3. laura

    You miss your babies.

  4. BigMamaCass

    Very interesting post! You are so creative with words.

  5. EH Shuba

    thanks cass!

  6. Peter Campbell

    To Solitude

    O Solitude! if I must with thee dwell,
    Let it not be among the jumbled heap
    Of murly buildings: climb with me the steep, –
    Nature’s observatory – whence the dell,
    In flowery slopes, its river’s crystal swell,
    May seem a span; let me thy vigils keep
    ‘Mongst boughs pavilion’d, where the deer’s swift leap
    Startles the wild bee from the foxglove bell.
    But though I’ll gladly trace these scenes with thee,
    Yet the sweet converse of an innocent mind,
    Whose words are images of thoughts refined,
    Is my soul’s pleasure; and it sure must be
    Almost the highest bliss of human-kind,
    When to thy haunts two kindred spirits flee.
    John Keats

    Thought I’d share. Oh I have too run – meeting Peggy for a drink 😉

  7. Holly B

    Love the new look !!

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