Welcome everybody… I’m posting something a little different tonight. If you read the comments section from last evenings post you noticed that the commenter referred to the poem as romantic. It pleased me greatly to hear that it was just what she needed to read at that moment in time. It seems a rare accomplishment to write something that is truly ‘felt’ by the reader and especially rare to have them comment about it. My thanks to her for doing so.
Tonight, I’d like to again post something that I would consider to be romantic, but in a totally different light. Yes, romantic poetry is probably the most popular of all. Beautiful words expressing the most personal loving emotions that we feel about someone, is not only wonderful to be able to write, but wonderful to read as well. Sometimes those words are truly, exactly what you need to hear or read. Tonight’s post… “ain’t gonna do that for ya”….. It is reality. It is romance in its own special way. It is much more of an expression of those “subtle changes” that I’ve mentioned before in my posts. Sometimes the simplest form of expressing yourself, in the middle of chaos, can be some of the most beautiful words you hear. I started to title this “A Beautiful Day” but I felt that the title it finally received is the proper fit. Is it poetry??? Umm….. No!
Romance in Reality
She washed her hair in the kitchen sink, because I hadn’t yet finished repairing the broken shower. Returning to the bathroom, standing in a precarious position as she hung the clean towels on the rack, she was fearful of falling through the rotten wooden floor. She pulled a muscle in her leg, while attempting to avoid the trauma of finding herself on her ass in the dirt that lie’s mysteriously in the darkness, where God only knows what creatures lurk there, below the floor joists.
As she sat down on the edge of the bed to do her nails, the bed squeaked far louder than the dog’s squeaky toy, scaring the shit out the two cats sleeping on the bed, causing them to clear the bedroom completely without touching the floor.
The ferocious felines then moved into a fully fledged wrestling match with one another, complete with full sound effects from hell, as they each blamed the other for the awful ear piercing squeaking noise.
The dog began howling at the horrible sounds that the cats were inflicting on his own sensitive ears. Terrified of the sounds coming from the howling dog, the cats began aimlessly running at full speed through the house. The dog began chasing the cats, barking as if he were in pursuit of bigfoot himself, ready to teach those terrible cats a lesson.
As they slung the knick knacks into oblivion, both cats passed by me in a dead heat, their heads thrown up and back, their eyes focused on nothing but their abandonment. Their tails crooked, sticking straight up in the air, the fur on their backs razed up like a razorback hog, leaving only puffs of their flying fur floating down in circles, being stirred by the slowly turning ceiling fan.
As they passed by me at lightning speed, they ran through the two inch deep water I was attempting to sop up from the overflowing washing machine. I had forgotten the plugged up drain and started a large load of clothes washing in spite of having the knowledge about the drain that must have slipped my mind.
They slung water over the entire washroom so profusely that it was dripping from the ceiling onto my head. The dog had somehow managed to get soaked as well. As I was squatting down to sop up the soapy water, the dog standing near, he generously decided it was indeed the proper moment to shake the water from his fur and sling it into my face.
With her finger nail polish now displayed on far more surfaces than just her nails, she entered the kitchen to pour herself a fresh cup of hot coffee, only to have a large chip fall from the peeling paint on the ceiling, demonstrating a perfectly executed landing, directly into her freshly poured cup. The splash had startled her, causing her to pull her hand back with a jerk, spilling even more coffee onto the cabinet, while producing a steady drip of the not so hot coffee onto her new pair of tennis shoes.
Instead of being angry and annoyed, knowing that my talents in the repair department were limited… knowing that my intentions were well intended… being the compassionate and loving person that I have adored for so many years…
She placed her warm soft hand against my face and asked, “Do you know how much I love you?”
After only a brief moment’s pause, I looked directly into her beautiful brown eyes….. and replied…..
Simple words can be so reassuring….
Have a romantic evening….