Her Toy Coat

January 20, 2010

Her Toy Coat

A parently, there’s what seems to be a disparity of terms or the definition of words such as poem as well as haiku and the like. Like what to call mmusic even rock or role, the word people too can dither and blabber about what is what and what the heck did you call that when you mentioned this or that and those are?

Several persons of all genders both near and far, all learned mmined you, each having different sets of letters after or before their names, have expressed several definitions of each of these bloggo end things. Considering they’re right, one dire wrecked did to the sup-planted words at the end of each one of these oh so purr sin all bloggo entrails we, you or they don’t quaver nor who do; you? OK let’s.

Their for this, the dunce in diss case end a bit confused ass too, what to call these ‘things,’ here written. One guess is that from now on we’ll just call them what, words? Who’s who of who nose every way and better stilled whose dares.

Maybe from time to time while being fearful of the alphabet and or rhyming and rhythm police as well as the hallowed gallows of hell’s belle’s wringing in mmy err, I’ll just title them, ‘The Next Stuff’ end leave it at bats. Like confused views of all this new’s whatever we, you or they care to pontificate in title meant do sow.

The Next Stuff, were composed during and mostly well after witnessing a friend; how she addressed another one of the multiple views of places we both hold near and deer to our hearts, soles, glands did feats. Maybe your views? Doo to.

The ocean; or mostly water of any kind really such as ponder us ponds, gleaming streams, warm or shiver wring rivers, brooks, nooks and or those including specifically of the pacific is where this particular adventure had taken us two.

To find this place we traveled down and then up the west coast of the U.S. of A. In ‘The Next Stuffed’ case the up part of Northern California is where we both were residents. Miss R was moored than I. This adventure took us first south, turning to landing north on water ways of mid-Oregon of all places. Wave now.

We began a two week time out, a vacation of sorts a few hours before; miles and miles later the specific pacific scenery of San Francisco came into view. We were glaringly staring at the big blue; See? Ocean. Not far from the Cliff House, yes?

Thanks to her appreciating a distinct colour sense and our wont to share it, the ten day trip turned out to be a great trade off; really. The photo is of Oregon; not caring what anyone thinks, it’s titled, “Face sitting in Bandon,” because that’s exactly how it appeared when in view of the image, not just the words. MMined you this same photo is presented on mmy www.youtube.com/mmicky site receiving thousands more hits then mmy art work for sum strangers reasons.

Sir prizingly enough one comment received was from a woman who said she travels the net looking for things ‘like that’ so she can shut them down in her life’s work of scents sore wring things ‘like that,’ but up on viewing mmine, she said, “ I think it’s the best one, out they’re; love your work, sorry to bother you.”

I’ve digressed and wear back. The equal time and the creations designed from those of our mostly light and bright favourite colours are what we presented to each other; R ‘n I, that is; a birthday present to present one after the other in total two. More often then both of us could have imagined at the beginning, our multitude in us adventures counted plenty more ‘fore naming us love veterans.

The un-fore-scene images weren’t a major plan of neither locations nor events. Most of what we experienced from day one was mysteries revealed or un-tolled adventure simply because we always sought getting lost in the maze is of any number of country back rodes; our destination or destiny; take your picture?

To this day we’re both astound did at how many different places we experienced in a short amount of time. The uncounted and personal visuals also took into account our shared love of everything liquid especially that of the deep blue sea.

The following is what I perceived, at this particular point, of our previous personal conversations; our shared emotions not just about how, what or we’re or why but perhaps like welcome warmth from inside her specifically are; this is.
This poet dressed miss had been raised in Alaska’s best kissed Home coast; with deep feelings of being embraced a round all sighs and as a garment to wear is:

Her Toy Coat

She sits at the left shifted curtain
Sealed pleats, cloth obstructed her view.
She stares at blue shores; seize uncertain
Of her third floor, bird’s scenery, bend hue.

She pines for her home on the ocean;
Dad’s cabin, precarious cliffs.
There she ran with the tides of all seasons,
Amid hard rains, snows covered, sun’s kissed.

Her gaze, our waves, currents, scent, beach kings.
The core of her heart’s sand, sun, shine.
The smile of her eyes, raised two reach, sing;
To shores, ode’s blue waters, dune climbs.

One more won brought soaring pleasures.
One more won shattered, rocked cliffs.
One more won breakers churned treasures.
One more’s sum fun, stunned, through wished.

One more won hails spells blurred moment.
One more won crashed, watched - the trend.
One more won climax - life’s dormant.
One more won rose like a friend.

One more won touched her sky, curling.
One more won clutched her breast pleas.
One more won held her forever.
Like the buoy of her toy coat - Blue Sea’s.