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watching a golfer stride up the fairway,

I’m unsure whether this be man or woman.

the gait appears to be that of the latter.

the attire, well, I’m just not sure —

salmon-pink patterned shorts, a beige top —

could be, maybe, either / or

but those white, nearly shin-high socks!

I’m inclined to believe most women would fail

to commit such a fashion faux pas.

so, could this be a man I see before me?

silly, I know, to expend precious energy

on such a whimsical pondering for certainly

I have more important things to worry about.

but still, I really am given to wonder…

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the yum of turkey provolone on wheat

painting a respectable watercolor landscape

Paul Mauriat’s achingly beautiful Love is Blue

occasionally sleeping-in, guiltfree and glorious

The Five Chinese Brothers, a childhood favorite

Coco Wheats, scrambled eggs, a box of raisins

the satisfaction of measuring & cipherin’ fractions

early mornings, a quiet house, hot cup of tea

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thunder!

and lots of it —

it’s been rumbling

all morning.

what a shame

I’ve left the cushions out.

the only time I’ve done so

all summer

and now, it’s positively

raining buckets out there.

I’ll not complain though.

they’ll dry.

eventually.

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Photo by Henrik L. on Unsplash

Another sartorial lovely, ruined. 

Roger never took seriously

*

her love affair with clothing.

Blood stains can be notoriously

*

difficult to remove.

Especially if one isn’t diligent

*

about pre-treating the fabric

or setting the right water temperature.

*

Still, the man was so

precociously cute—and sweet,

*

his Soul of Darkness,

the ultimate turn-on.

*

Valerie forgave his transgressions

time and again.  Nocturnal

*

relationships, she was quick to learn,

are not without their limitations.