Tuscany Days

 Vivid views softened by late summer haze
help me imagine these Tuscany days.

Autumn mums add to a flowery scene —
a scene from a place where I've never been.

Sampling some cheese and a Classico wine —
our cedars become rich grapes and a vine.

The lawn's a meadow of grasses and herbs;
a sanctuary that no one disturbs.

Cracked asphalt becomes a cobblestone lane,
leading to this — our "Italian" terrain.

Under an awning, we sit and unwind,
savoring moments with no cares in mind.

Strains of Vivaldi's Four Seasons are heard
in counterpoint with the song of a bird.

All beheld from a small bistro table,
playing its part in this Tuscan fable.

Strip The Frip

Some people say that the clothes make the man.
Put on a suit and voila! Dapper Dan.

Oh, doctor, lawyer, firefighter priest;
Shed those costumes, are you somehow decreased?

Doff civvies, don uniform, and one becomes,
A serious soldier. Cue brass band and drums!

I love being naked; you get what you see,
I am what is happening. It's what defines "me."

Clothes can be a visual comment on wealth.
Be the Gymnosophist for spiritual health.

Come right out of nature and lay bare your souls,
Don't be fooled by facades. Don’t get trapped in your roles.

Free the body of the frippery it loathes. 
Strip the frip. Live now. Don’t be “made” by your clothes.

Marianne's Song

 

Dwelling in this restful place,

time and time I see your face,

and again I am reminded

of a precious love so rare.

As two flowers that bloom as one,

living on through cloud and sun;

an example of affection,

is the treasured life we share.

Like the softness of a mist

are those cherished lips I've kissed —

you remain my special someone,

holding me in your embrace.

Life’s busy stream does freely flow,

containing fears and cares although,

one comfort there is everlasting;

your tender touch of charm and grace.