Staycation

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Staycation
There is something to be said
about just staying in
About seventy-two hours, of just us,
a
way from the traffic, the lights, the din
Us, together, happily losing track of time,
while everything we do is win/win
So many great choices when it’s you and me
that we seldom know
exactly where to begin
And it never returns to where we didn’t go
when we realize where we’ve just been

Together, inside of each other’s heart
Sharing time, within each other’s mind
Where the very best of both of us
is remarkably easy to find
Where every word we consider
is purposeful, caring and kind
Where our substantial substance
can relax, and breathe, and slowly unwind
A safe and serene distance
f
rom the lives we’ve left behind

Right at home with all that makes us laugh
Where nothing is too wacky, nothing too bizarre
For our own choice of music, and great conversation,
for our own ideal company, we needn’t go far
A healthy, necessary break for the wallet
A welcome, fuel-efficient rest for the car
Beer and wine, or whatever else we choose,
at less than a quarter the price of a bar
And when we buy it locally, ourselves,
it’s always Canadian money at par

A stay-cation, much like we wanted
A stay-in solution, much like we said
Staying in, and saving for our next adventure
Staying in together, and staying out of the red
Holding hands, while sitting on the couch
Holding each other, while staying in bed
Making love, and making our own meals
With both of our appetites, extremely well fed
Instead of 
spending a pile of money, frivolously,
we spend some quality time staying home instead

There is so much to enjoy about these weekends
It makes little difference what we choose to do
All that matters is that it’s our time, together
And every memory matters, when it’s me with you

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Consolation

Wine comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye.
That’s all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth.
I look at you, and I sigh.
William Butler Yeats – A Drinking Song (1915)

 


Consolation

Just me, alone,
raising my glass to you…

 It was eight years ago today.
I remember the exact conversation,
just as I clearly remember the date.
“We both have the same sensibility, I said.
We’re like a fun young old couple, you and I.
It’s really just a shame
that I was born fifteen years too early
and you was born fifteen years too late.” 

It was our last night together.
You were moving away soon after,
so I said good-bye then, rather than wait.
You responded, with barely a hesitation.
“You know that I never cared about that.
We were great together.
The real shame, for us, is
we were both born a hundred years too late.”


So here’s a toast,
to being an old soul.
A toast,
to being young at heart.
A glass raised,
to being both.
To
the end.
And to the start.

 

When day begins to break
I count my good and bad,
Being wakeful for her sake,
Remembering what she had,
What eagle look still shows,
While up from my heart’s root
So great a sweetness flows
I shake from head to foot.
W.B.Y. – Friends (1915)

 

 

Flight

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Flight


It’s highly invigorating

Thoughts of this adventure
Our newest possibilities
taking flight
Taking off,
to our next unknown
To all that we will do
And all that we might

A healthy distance
from a year ago
Above the clouds,
with both on board
Heart to heart
Hand in hand
A March break,
we deserve to afford

Continuing together
toward our destination
A window to the world
from an elevated view
Another journey,
on this trip of a lifetime
A week away
with me and you

Sighs and sunshine
as we touch down
A
smooth landing
for our recurring themes
No hurries
No worries
An ocean together
As close it seems

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