Middle of the Day Munchies

Dawn…whisk, roll, caress
graceful crimping, manic yen
sweet artful zest…dusk.

Something is buzzing, she wonders what on earth is occurring. Is this real, this is not part of the picture she realises and then her eyes, slowly. Oh its you, the ever friendly alarm, one day I am going to beat you and get up before you call my name. She places one foot out of bed, it feels different, some how not supported, no matter, she places the other on the floor, then whoosh, a feeling of falling, exhilarting falling. She can see all around her just space, wonderful blue and purple space in different shades, the wind through her hair on her skin, her blue, purple, pink and lime green with hears on pj's are supporting her flying through the air, yes, flying. She is not fearful and realises how free she feels, how exhilarting this is, oh yes she thought that before so it must be true. Why is this happening, no matter. She relaxes and closes her eyes but if I am falling, well gliding now what if I hit the groud, she did not consider looking down, that would be kind of useful to know her destination but she cannot see it, no matter. She closes her eyes and instantly all her senses are heightened, the sounds are incredible, what sounds, well there must be soemthing, the sensations on her skin, in her hair, the taste, there is one she is sure, um something like the taste of anything is possible there is a smell something like the smell of um something cooking, SOMETHING COOKING, no matter. She relaxes and continues to glide, opening her eyes she notices the ground below filled with colours that are so vibrant yet gentle they create a pattern that looks like where she will land will then lead her to a path, she can see at the end of a path is a huge thing, that looks shiney and holds water, whats this she wonders, no matter. She lands gracefully on her botton, if that can be graceful after her little feet and legs have touched down and I guess you could say jogged for a few seconds, before plopping down. Um she can smell something cooking. She walks towards the path and there is the big shiny thing that holds water which is being heated by logs and stuff. There is a cork in the side and she just knows that a cup that is sat there holds coffee and she promptly makes herself a coffee, she blinks and there she sits in her kitchen, breakfast. Now that was a trip, did she beat the clock. Wow that was amazing, what a way to get up, somthing is buzzing in the distance, is it the alarm? Surely I am awake aren't I? No matter.

shower water turns to animal fur
it's cold like a cat's nose
will this really clean me?
or just leave me more to lint brush?
my dreams awake me
as the cat licks my feet

smoked is one syllable- i think.
I dont say smoke-ed
even when high off smoking rabbi do.

there wasnt much to do in the Alabama town where i grew up.

Haiku:

I rolled over on
the dog that rascal got fur
between clean fresh sheets

(I was sitting at this all day meeting.... hard seat, boring meeting, way too long ... and as I always have my notebook at the ready I decided that I must save myself from the day. So I wrote the Haiku. That little Haiku made me feel much better.)

Excerpt from: Days With Suprises

I left the leg on the table. Right there. Just like that! I didn’t even think much about it, I was too distraught. Too overwhelmed by what I’d learned. Bolting from the chair, I swooped up my coat and grappled the door knob. Opening the old over-painted plank, I trampled out into dingy
40-watt light of that hallway. Shifting my coat on around me, I was off-- down the steps, and went face first into the frothy crystal night.

Waking up. Not exactly unusual. Something he had done every day until at last one day he didn’t. The funny thing was that the day he didn’t, he was quite sure he had. Even chuckling to himself as he performed the old test, pushing out his elbows to ensure he didn’t hit wood, and feeling that reassuring thunk. Making plans for the day as he savored those last few minutes before crawling from under the sleep-warmed covers. Nuzzling Old Katt as he popped open her Friskies. Squinting in the brightness of the morning sun, smiling as the cardinal hollered in the tree outside his kitchen window. Thinking, yessirree, it’s good to be alive. It wasn’t until he finally stepped out the door to meet his morning coffee buddies that he noticed it. His feet didn’t hit the earth. And as he walked his steps were more like flying. In fact, he was flying. Hot damn, he thought. This is going to be an interesting day!

Me unusual?
I'm an ordinary girl
And I'm fine with that

Haiku – 5 – 7 – 5
A new day begins
with the sweet sounds of children
smashing our dishes.

Tanka – 5 – 7 – 5 – 7 – 7
Another day ends
With the loud moans of children
Force-marched to their rooms.
There is no one happier
Than a mom with kids tucked in.

Cinquain – 2 – 4 – 6 – 8 – 2
Children
Are the sweetest
Blessings on this big earth.
In spite of endless whining, call me,
Mommy.

Well, again, here I am - better late than never!

It was a most unusual trek on my treadmill the other day. I hit the start button and it began to move - out the bedroom door, down the stairs and out the front door. Most unusual, Lou said as I waved an astonished good-bye from the front walk.

Daffodils popped up out of the chilly spring soil and craned their papery heads to follow my progress up the driveway. Winnie and Helen and Cloud and Clyde peered from their doors to see me pass by. High up on an incline of 2, I looked down on my lookers-on and waved casually; the royal wave, not to be confused with the royal bird. I saved that for the cranky coot up the street who ran alongside me, gesticulating, shaking his fists, shouting and swearing. I responded with a royal smile and a royal bird from my high perch on incline 3 at 4 MPH and continued on my most unusual jog.

A treadmill parade float up Raynor Road, festooned with yesterday’s bra, today’s hair towel, a few books, IPod, and some leftover Christmas ribbon pulling plastic Easter eggs. Most unusual, I would agree.

Most peculiar, neighbors whispered from behind their envious hands as they greeted me and my rolling walkway.

Past Starlight up to Pepperidge I go. I navigate past the woods. The onion grass is up, the ground hog is foraging. The tree twigs are plump, plump, plump.

I make the circuit high aloft at a steady 4 MPH arms pumping and with an occasional Rocky salute to the sky. Gradually cooling down; a most satisfying ride. A most unusual afternoon!