My Baby Brother

Yesterday was my brother's birthday;
What he meant to me
Was a precious baby brother;
That's not all he was meant to be.

He was a world-class hugger;
This turned out to be a shame,
Because so many women
Treated it as a game.

My beautiful brother was betrayed by friends,
Women and men alike.
He took to hiding in drugs;
His misery continued to spike.

My brother's faith in relationships
Had been so diverted
By the hypocrisy of authority,
Which, the powerful, had perverted.

He looked for mentors in older men,
But they led him further astray.
I wish these people were still around
To accept the hurt they lay.

My brother is long since dead,
But his memory lives on in me.
When I look into my husband's face,
My brother's love is some of what I see.

I am blessed to share life with a man
As huggable as my baby brother;
I only wish that more people
Didn't, their affections, cover.

My Morning Man

I love waiting for my husband to rise
To see the joy of living in his eyes.
I'm honored that this joy includes me,
And that he shares with me what he will see.

We'll sit and have coffee together;
We will comment on the weather.
Then we may go on to discuss
Whatever else occurs to us.

On these mornings, he loves breakfast
Eggs and pastries are a must.
Then a day of working with near other
All the fires of our lives to smother.

Tomorrow we'll trade our morning chat
For tales of his work when he gets back.
Today, there will be no tales
With which on workdays he, me regales.

Temptations of Technology

Now my computer tells me we have worms
That seem to spread like viruses and germs.
Technology is so darn unpredictable;
Why does it have such a powerful pull?
For me it is my infinite university
Where I can study anything for free.
I've made friends that I may never meet,
But they still make my life more complete.

I have been able to help publish a book
Without having to leave my writer's nook.
I can email friends at two in the morning,
And enjoy their replies as day is dawning.
I get a bit spoiled not having to dress,
Or worry when my house or hair is a mess.
I can sit by my keyboard and feel connected
Without the worry of being rejected.

I could have our groceries delivered,
And never have to speak a word.
With writing, nobody can misunderstand
And ascribe evil to the message I'd planned.
The big, wide world comes to me;
Through the computer, everything I see.
But the pleasures of a friendly voice and face,
The wonders of technology will never replace.

Looking Forward to Life

The new computer monitor is in;
Let the publishing games begin.
My surgeon has released me;
I'm now free to simply be.
Today is a day to grab life by the tail,
And, once again, let my spirits sail.
Thankfully I'm grounded once again
By the people who insist on my acting sane.

Otherwise, I float too high, too fast;
This kind of energy simply cannot last.
While it's exciting to soar and dip,
The downward spiral is a scary trip.
So I'll continue taking time to observe
Before I make myself a scourge.
I'm looking forward to this shared life,
And happily continuing to be a wife.

Surrender to the Seasons

What a storm we had yesterday; the sky was torn asunder.
We threw open all the windows on the world
To see, smell, hear the lightening and thunder.
This morning, the air is cool, clean, and fresh;
I think I can smell fall on the gentle breeze.
This is the fine fantasy with which I am blessed.
This month actually is the worst of hurricane season;
We all know our world could suddenly be washed away.
Meanwhile, I'll enjoy these lovely days that defy all reason.

Friends and Failure

I had a sister who thought her only friends
Were those who followed her to her bitter end.
I am more inclined to celebrate
Those who help me be first rate.
Sob sisters seem to come by the scores,
Knocking down each others doors.

I like people who seek my best,
And put my strengths to the test.
Those who cheer for me when I win,
And when I fail, help me begin again.
These are the people who set me free,
From my past fears and self-pity.

Possible Possession

I believe my ambitions may be possessed
Or is it the technology with which we are "blessed?"
Three times I have made an attempt to format my book;
Twice, the software gave it a new look.
I finally think I figured out the format problem
But, through hardware glitches, I'm stymied again.
Will the computer problems ever relent?
Will I ever see my work in print?