Sunday, December 24, 2006

Blame it on the martini.

I just adore a tipsy man.
Not drunk--
just a little fuzzy,
with an easy grin
which hasn't gone foolish.
He stops stomping,
lowers his guard,
and learns to trust.
Spontaneous
and delightfully fragile,
with a dreamy look
and a knowing smile,
A little boy
who plays games
like "Dare!"
A romantic
with surprise hugs
and stolen kisses,
which he can later
blame on the booze.
I just adore a tipsy man.

Friday, December 08, 2006

Haiku ? If you insist.

Somewhere here, under

the debris of broken dreams,

I have lost a poem.


Raking the rubble,

I accept that some poems

are born to be landfill.