Sorry Peeps,
This Poetry Friday is the dogs dinner, and it’s late. I’ve been very distracted with all the baby blanketing, and with a lot of big changes that came about this week. I know I know, excuses excuses. Well here it is!
Saturday:
The best cup for drinking
Is the dusty rose mug with
the fluted rim
The handle is perfectly balanced
To optimize the tea-to-mouth ratio.
The other mugs are probably jealous.
Sunday
Moringa scented body butter
It smells like lilacs and lemons
snuck into a doll factory
and sexed themselves on the
conveyor belt.
You’ll be happy to find out
that it contains
butyrospermum
Which solidifies my conveyor belt
theories.
And they do this purely so we can enjoy the sweet sweet smoothness
of body butter.
Monday
The Helmetted knod
as we pedal past
not too fast
but just fast enough
to get us
where we are going.
Enviromental warriors?
Fitness nuts?
Escapism junkies?
maybe
or maybe we’re just,
two people
on bikes
passing in the street.
Tuesday – Wednesday did not get done. 😦 I know, I’m a terrible person.
Thursday
She slips through my fingers
like smoke.
The legacy, the honor,
stolen, and played on the
tongues of others.
They’ve stakes their claim
on the words, and silences,
of the memories kept safe
from slipping beneath
the grave by my own hands.
The last piece of her
no longer belongs on
my lips.
It has become another’s
dedication; another’s
future.
Friday- Also not completed. I will do double next week. I promise!
So that’s it lady’s and gents.
Later days!
Delusions of Grace 
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