City Smells

My city,

my home.

I close my eyes

taking my time

to breath you in.

Standing

over pungent hot tar

mixed with delicious coconut,

sisters sunning themselves,

baking like macroons in the sweltering heat.

Savoring

barbecue tangy and pleasing

as the mesquite smell

is carried by the breeze

finding it's way through my window.

Loitering

next to the bakery,

the smell of cinnamon rises.

I press my nose to the window

and devour them with my eyes.

Lingering

by the giant fountian

metallic and earthy smelling,

tossing in my pennies,

watching as my wishes sink to the bottom.

Strolling

near the river

it's perfume reeks of fish.

dipping my toes in the water,

happily I skip my stone's along the surface.

Waiting

to cross the street

cars honking, hurrying past

the fumes are so strong,

I cough as they find their way to my lungs.

Laying

cozy in my warm bed

my eye's laden with sleep

I reminisce with my nose,

about my life in the city.

7a.m. On a Monday

7a.m. on a Monday

although I've been up half past six,

got the kids ready for school

eggs, bacon, and toast I did fix.

Oh, 7a.m. on this Monday

how I loath this time of the day,

standing in my pink fuzzy slippers,

with my coffee and hair not array.

Crazy 7.a.m. on a Monday,

crazy kids, crazy dogs, crazy cats,

my house on a bright Monday morning,

is where the crazies are at.

Stupid 7a.m., stupid Monday,

a lost shoe, a lost sock, a lost child,

no reading the paper or relaxing,

my Monday mornings are wild.

7a.m. now has past on this Monday,

the clock reads quarter to eight,

toting three kid's off to school

speeding so they will not be late.

It's not just 7a.m. on a Monday

but everyday of the week,

with exception to Saturday and Sunday,

when I get one more hour of sleep.

Longing to Be Young Again

Longing for the carefree days

when thirty seemed so old,

when I was lost you'd guide me back,

my tiny hand you'd hold.

Gentle strokes through my hair,

you would hold me thight,

sing me a lullaby,rock me to sleep,

stay with me through the night.

You'd scold me when I needed it

but, in a loving way,

hug me, kiss me, smile at me

each and every day.

I am now at the age

that seemed so old to me,

crying inside,for the innocent child

I once used to be.

I want to be safe, carefree again,

there, by you're side.

The reality now is just too harsh,

I need to run and hide.

This tide, this life, is sinking my boat

taking me far below,

so rock me to sleep, mother, hold me close;

never let me go.

Beauty of life:

Nights are so short

and days are so long,

comfort their souls,

sing them a song.

Chant a sweet melody

help them to breathe,

give off good karma,

and no longer seethe.

Hearts are so empty,

minds are closed tight,

open their eyes,

give them the sight.

Take all the pain,

grief and the strife,

cause them to thirst

to drink in their life.

My Ocean.

Fading away,slowly,
sand,hot beneath my feet,
I have reached my ocean.

As I step in, the water
is unnaturally warm, foaming
white waves writhe,
beckoning me. I listen.

With arms outstretched, I fall
sinking deeper and deeper
tantric motions lull me,
into a state of oneness.

I glide past pebbles,
seaweed dancing around,
oh the seaweed,how it tickles
my legs as I glide further down.

Blue, I have never seen such color,
rich,bight,warm.
My blue ocean is offset
with pink and yellow coral.

Flying past the coral,
faster I glide,I am breathing,
breathing in my ocean with new gills
swimming faster with my fins.

I have become part of the blue.
We are all part of it,and my ancestors
welcome me,with open fins.
I shall not return to the shore.