More Poetry

Just as before, all the poetry is original work and is copyrighted to me.  Please enjoy!

Twelve Questions Do you wake to the thoughts of me? Are your dreams a collage of what we share? Does your body continue to feel my warmth? Will you miss me when I am not there? Have you ever wondered how lucky we are to have met? Are you happy with the way things are going? Is your soul open for me to experience? Can you see how much our passion is growing? Will your faith in me continue without end? Do you cherish the way that you feel? Does this ever seem as if it is all a dream? Have you asked if this all is for real? I surround you with all of these questions And if you asked me I'd answer yes. I share with you one hundred percent of my love And promise you will never get less.

A Trip to Fenway Park The horizon of concrete lowers As I make my way up the stairs. A sight dear to my heart emerges Sending chills and raising neck hairs. Before me lies the greenest grass In a park held high in tradition. At eighty-seven years old and counting, This park is in marvelous condition. The lights shine down all around And the sunlight begins to fade. I am without a thought or words Knowing this is where Ted Williams played. I see a placard with a single nine And a red chair marking number five twenty-one. Both are tributes to a hall of fame hero- A retired number and a target of his final home run. Amidst applause and our National Anthem, Stands on the field the players of tomorrow. Where once stood Fisk and Yazstremski among others Now stands Martinez and Garciaparra. There is an unimagineable beauty found In the white uniform with numbers of red. I look down upon some regular guys But as Red Sox, they are Gods in my head. The love, the lore, and the magic Still holds true of this game today. Past or present, it's our nation's pastime. But it's something special at Fenway.