No hay nada más sincero Que un regalo Inesperado Una carta Un chocolate
I look away Afraid to see Flicker of nerves In their eye A clench
A palomino gallops Beside the highway Look out the window Rides over green hills Through yellow flowers
I don’t expect Diabetes education For the public But chances are You know one
I will be Forever in debt To my mother Any gift Would come up short
A joke Lost in Translation You will Never
If you find someone That can do it Better than you Get them on your team
Most women are cooks But a man who cooks Is a chef She cooks over and over To feed the masses
I love to hear poetry read Rather than performed I love to hear each word Appreciated Rather than memorized
I am sorry That I cannot be happier I know that I’d be prettier If I smiled If I could smile
It’s not pretty When I cry People get almost as embarrassed as I
Long and slender Her every movement Deliberate and graceful Composed as She listens quietly
Blonde eyes To match her hair Life is mean She counts her blessings Hopes for the best
You might know her As blonde eyes Or as the sister who bakes cookies But you see I don’t write this
My poems are short Written at night In my head I wake at dawn Shake my memory