Category Archives: constant reminders of her presence

CHURCH ATTENDANCE–A HYPOTHETICAL POEM

He rarely attends now,

It’s gone and got diff’rent somehow…

He feels pushed aside

Not welcomed inside,

No one’s been direct with him, anyhow!

They used to go faithfully,

Found the spirit there strong and free…

The Pastor moved on

And a preacher took on

Things with his own personality.

With his circle of friends,

For our subject, being close to a pastor ends…

You know his pride

Didn’t like “outside”

But he wanted to attend.

Then he and his wife

Both saw ill health in life….

Comparison

With others is sin,

And churned up internal strife!

The preacher/teacher and he,

(Too much alike?) weren’t happy…

It shifted into

“An authority over you”

Which wasn’t as healthy!

Various dissatisfactions

Led to complaints and  feigned actions….

Poor communication

Led to frustration,

In mutual distraction.

So now he stays at home

Sundays, with his wife alone…

No need to go

Taken for granted so,

But he’s stuck–this was his church home.

Socially depended on her,

His wife, for communication stirred…

When she took ill

He didn’t have the will,

To see that his opening up occurred.

He’s given his life for her,

Literally as it were…

Goes it alone

Reaching out he’s done,

Elsewhere–little left at “home”.

Options to go elsewhere?

Feels bound by his wife–so there!

Decision paralyzed–

Easier to survive

By himself, ‘though few benefits to share!

A “hypothetical poem”–which means it is just a poem….!

–Jonathan Caswell

 

 

 

 

MAY I INTERJECT

May I interject

An opinion that some suspect…

Judgmental at heart

But I would impart

Wisdom  that trend setters reject?

What is the desire to share

The latest in underwear…

Out in plain

Sight–what’s the game?

Are you trying to lose it that night?

As a guy, satin lace,

Is groovy but out of place?

Why advertise

The pleasant surprise–

I know, with the trends to keep pace!

Femininity in the open,

Are designers secretly hoping…

Planned Parenthood

Makes out good,

As result of a young man’s groping?

Ah yes, but it’s the style,

Sit down and listen a while?

Men will be men–

Do you realize you’ve been

An open invitation for his guile?

Yes, guys do think like that,

Canoodling after…a twat…

Give guys a mile

And they’ll make you smile,

Excuses won’t rectify that.

–Jonathan Caswell

CONNIVING KITTY CATS!

The girl in the suit seems dismayed,

Her spot’s been taken away…

The tiger reclined

Is the one who “felined”

While the girl was at play!

This picture seems out of scale,

Little pussy cat’s big as a whale…

The glass is big too–

A close-up view–

Should think the woman would prevail!

Now if…it’s not her cat,

Spray bottles take care of that…!

Her lioness within

Emerges to win,

And the presumptive cat…would scat!

–J.E.C.

VICARIOUS COLD SHOWER

Vicariously feeling heat,

Of poetic lovers retreat…

Wanting to plunge

In mutual lunge,

Realizing there’s no honey to eat.

Left standing  all alone,

These visions are not your own…

Kissing mid-air

A lover not there,

Embarrassed when bystanders groan!

Stiffening love has power,

But time to take a REAL cold shower…

Her poetry

Powerfully

Has brought the experience to flower.

–J.E.C.

A LASS’ TARTAN SKIRTS!

A lass’ tartan skirts  as lifted,

Demonstrates her gifted…

Sense of style

And joyful smile,

Aye, lassie, you’re more than just gifted!

–J.E.C.

BALDWIN SISTERS

If you watched THE WALTONS,

You know the Baldwin sisters…

They held an innocent charm around–

But their “formula” would cause blisters (in paint!)!

Neither sister drove at all,

So Grandpa made money…

Driving the sisters around

To earn enough to treat his honey!

Baldwin sisters so have I,

But an unmatched dual…

If these two were very real

They’d run on diesel fuel.

Hard to say what I’ll do—

Paint one or the other…

Maybe I’ll take them home,

Naming one after Mother!

Collecting all these engines–

Ihope I see each run…

Piling them up on a shelf

Isn’t that much fun!

–Jonathan Caswell

BECKY**

**AUTHOR’S NOTE:  Name and circumstances changed to protect…the Author!

At a doctor’s office new to him,

Was coaxed by a welcoming wind…

Viscerally

His loins agreed,

On something he could not pretend.

All women his records reviewed,

By “Becky”** he was interviewed…

What can we say

Happened that day,

Or what the man construed?

Tingling in his loin muscles,

As if something need hustle…

Straight into being

A swell way of seeing,

The feelings he must tussle!

Becky–older but not old–

Formed in an attractive mold…

Dark red hair

All freckles were there,

Hands slightly wrinkled…but made of gold.

White lace skirt above the knee,

Smoothed down near constantly…

Lower affairs

Held enticing airs,

Blouse was brown in white polka dot seas.

Something in the way she asked

Her questions in doing her task…

All anticipating

Answers she was awaiting,

He openness wasn’t masked!

Highly welcome delights,

Gotten with Becky’s insights….

Tingles remained–

He never complained–

But kept himself in check and aware!  🙂

–Jonathan Caswell