Wednesday, November 24
Season's greetings!
With fall in, a new leaf has surely turned. Much has transpired for the wines to flow…nature has bathed herself in the most flamboyant of auburns and rouges, Maachu Picchu has been rediscovered at the Field Museum, the Red Sox have brought us that sweet tang of victory the Cubs quite couldn’t, pumpkin patches and fog machines have churned out the spookiest Halloween yet, and whilst all the blessed folk have apple picked, hopped orangeries and vineyards, gone fall color watching, and slept an extended hour of bliss as the clock backed up, the holiday season seems ebullient as it rushes in with a crimson speckled cheer. Snow-men, starry lights, purple skies, popcorn pops, stocking-fuls of surprises, and cranberry strings up that tree are waited upon with bated breath, and a ravenous passion. One almost lusts after the flurries now…and as those frost bites are balmed, wood burned bitter blue, warmth caressed, luscious grapes firmed, the perfect tangerine skins grated for pastry garnish, plush wreaths hung, paper cards sought, new possessions bagged, and lest I forget - the turkey stuffed, here’s wishing all you kindly souls a most glorious holiday season!
Tuesday, November 2
My fair tale
Snow-pearled roses
kissed my dainty toes
Blue depths glimmered
as they cradled the crescent
Blustery winds caressed
my soft, black hair
Diamonds glazed
my earlobes, and neck
Silky satiny rouge flowed
after my perfect frame
Spotlights flared
my every path
I danced with the stars
why, I was a Princess
The world was meek
beneath my feet
My shoes were gold
my wine, in crystal
When I woke
I smelt only Folgers,
and a rusty alarm
But my Prince,
he still gazed
right into my wet brown eyes.
kissed my dainty toes
Blue depths glimmered
as they cradled the crescent
Blustery winds caressed
my soft, black hair
Diamonds glazed
my earlobes, and neck
Silky satiny rouge flowed
after my perfect frame
Spotlights flared
my every path
I danced with the stars
why, I was a Princess
The world was meek
beneath my feet
My shoes were gold
my wine, in crystal
When I woke
I smelt only Folgers,
and a rusty alarm
But my Prince,
he still gazed
right into my wet brown eyes.