Tag: bubbles

Something to Write About


Petal of a pelargonium - taken in the evening ...
Image via Wikipedia

I never had
to suppose,

Why some of
the shades she never closed,

The shades
facing me,

Were left
open so I could see,

It was a
ritual,

Turning on
the tap,

Pouring in
her bath soaps,

Knowing it
would raise my hopes,

Let the pink
bubbles rise,

While I’d
pretend to be surprised,

Always the
same routine,

But a feast
for my eyes,

She called
it her private heaven,

Every day
about seven,

She’d soak
away,

All the
troubles of her day,

Sprinkling
rose petals that were real,

Saying the
petals made her feel,

Like a
thirsty flower soaking in the rain,

Then she
would undress, leaving me in pain,

As she
slipped into the curative water,

To soak with
her eyes closed,

Occasionally
she would peek,

To see if I was
watching, I supposed,

Wrinkled when
she emerged,

She would lift her breasts as an offering,

And look at
me always smiling,

As she
stepped out to dry,

Her eyes
would question why,

With a nod
and a wink,

She always
made me think,

Seeing her
in all her glory,

Indicated her
willingness,

To be part
of my story,

“Now you
have something,

To write
about,” she would say,

“Make your
story good enough,

To make my
day,”

When my
broken bones,

Were on the
mend,

I went to see
my friend,

But she had
simply flown away,

That’s what
I say,

And there’s
no doubt,

She gave me
something to write about.

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Wedding Bubbles Forever


Girl blowing bubbles
Image via Wikipedia

It was the strangest of weddings,

An attempt at an unusual scheme,

For bubbles was the constant theme,

The geodesic spheres that were there,

Looked like giant bubbles from the air,

Some of the guests drove in Beetles round,

In bubbles some rolled across the ground,

And gathered in the largest geodesic home,

Round and spacious, no place like dome,

Instead of “The Wedding March” the organist played,

“I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles” to start the parade,

The flower girl, a cute little bubbly thing,

Scattered pink bubbles, next to the boy with the ring,

Wearing name tags so the guests didn’t guess at all,

Bubba, the Best Man, came in dancing, having a ball,

Bubbles, the Maid of Honor, was not to be outdone,

She was shimmying and shaking, having lots of fun,

The guests were prepared with bottles of soap,

And blew bubbles to represent joy and hope,

The minister began his speech with a little mirth,

“We live on a large bubble called Earth,”

At the wedding reception things were just grand,

Everyone began dancing, all that could stand,

The DJ used a bubble machine to let the music flow,

When he played the “Chicken Dance”, they let themselves go,

Finally the groom held a large glass of champagne,

To toast his wife, his queen to reign,

And she giggled, “These bubbles tickle,”

When some of the bubbles trickled,

Past her grin and down her chin,

Onto her dress laced with bubble wrap,

Onto her white shoes, past her lap,

But the groom diverted everyone’s eyes,

By singing out loud to their surprise,

And to keep their attention he chose,

To have bubbles go up his nose,

And everyone laughed and called it a night,

While the Bride and Groom drove out of sight,

Above them all, each planet and star,

Were reminders of bubbles wherever they are.

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