Addiction

Procrastination is what I do well.
Nothing is done until the last minute,
Sitting for hours is strictly pure hell.
Hopefully I’ll make it to the next cut.
Detectives, humor, and mating bullfrogs,
Dinner at Perkins and psychic hot-lines,
Sport games and novels, write notes to my dogs,
Anything but study, wasting my time.
Before I sit to study my letters,
Make lists “To Do” and tidy my room.
I go so far as learn to knit sweaters,
Putting me closer to scholarly doom.
My family all says, I am the best Queen
Of procrastination this world’s ever seen.

Cold Room

It’s so nice outside, I’m stuck inside.
Twenty more minutes and class will be done.

It looks so warm outside, I’m stuck inside.
Constantly yawning, wiping away tears.

I wish I was outside, I’m stuck inside.
Goose-bumps on my skin, shaking to keep warm.

I’m going outside, forget being inside.
Twenty minutes is up, Class is over --

Man of My Dreams

The wind, the moon and the great stars above,
All remind me of the one man I love.
The rain -- his kisses, the wind a caress,
He’s hiding in shadows I cannot grasp.
He’s here after sunset, gone before rise,
Migrates with shadows, a man of the night.
I wait for evening to be in his arms.
Wonder when he will stay well after dawn.