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Hair Cares

Her normally wavy hair fell flat,

Drier weather causes that.

She didn’t really mind,

She wished for straight all the time.

It never was really voluminous even

But age and hormones turned it thin.

She wanted to grow it out like she had,

But thirty it worked, now she became sad.

Maybe it’s time to snip it short and sweet,

At least then it would be nice and neat.

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Laundry

Wash Dry Fold and Hang,

Why is household laundry

A never ending thing?

We must be puppets,

So many shorts, jeans and shirts

Quick fold them before wrinkles set!

Sheets, towels, pillowcases too,

Fitted sheets are such a pain,

But looking forward to a fresh linen snooze.

Finally the piles are gone,

Hung clothes are still drying, but,

It’s good to have at least one chore done.

…until tomorrow!

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The Spiral

The quiet is her refuge from the world,

But sometimes it becomes her nemesis.

She uses the time to dream and recharge,

But overdone it makes her a depressed recluse.

Seeking to find balance, she varies her attention

Work mainly is her social interaction,

And time with her mate and cats of course.

She tries to keep up with long time friends,

But now they are so far away,

And time eludes them all

from gathering these days.

So she loses herself in her dreams and fantasies,

The ones where she is bold and strong,

Or sexy and the focus of the one she really desires.

But now and again, she needs to face reality,

Clean the house and tackle the laundry too.

Finally she plans small get togethers,

Just one to three family or friends suit her best,

Yes, that is the perfect amount my dear.

And the depression lifts, her smile returns,

And she’s ready for life once more.

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Just Bake It!

Thumbing through the pages,

Wondering what should I make.

It has been a while since I used this book,

Mostly because it usually means added pounds.

French Pastries and breads line the pages,

A dusting of sugar and flour line the pages.

Pate a choux calls my name, versatile and fun;

Eclairs and salambos, and cream puffs too.

Then there is the brioche, perfect rolls,

They will get their turn on Thanksgiving.

We are headed into the season of decadence

Now is the time to plan what to bake!

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Afternoon Tea

A flat awaits along a cobblestone path.

A wrought iron fence holding flowering baskets

Bring wide smiles to passerbys.

Heels clack up the cement steps

To a scarlet door framed by white columns

Topped by an arched window covered by iron work on top.

A Welcome sign swings from a pole,

Greeting visitors by day and night.

A brass knocker, bold and heavy,

Echoes the pounding from the guests.

Slowly, the aged hinges groan

As the heavy door opens.

A booming voice from behind bellows

“Welcome! Please come in!”

The aromas of tea and cakes waft in the air

Enticing all who knock to come inside.

A cherub faced woman waves to doily and lace covered tables,

“Please have a sit and enjoy!”

Cups and kettles, plates and trays all around.

And upon the patrons not a scowl to be found.

Scrumptious savories make the taste buds dance,

Then scones and cream calm and cleanses the palate,

And finally the sweets delight and satiate

Even the most hungry of those who imbibe.

Welcome to what I dream of as afternoon tea.

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Be Kind, Nicole

Creaks and groans escape from above;

Pounding and whistling surround;

Pelting rain smacks the windows,

While the light disappears behind gray skies.

The heat dissipates as cold air gathers on the ground,

Chilling anything brave enough to touch it.

Winds strip fading leaves of tired limbs,

Already strained from a tough year.

Gird your loins Florida…here comes Nicole.

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Swirled

Calming sensations take over

With each spin of the wheel

Pour, dip, paint, over and over

Turning white bisque colorful.

Swirls of jade speckled with flecks,

Then off to the dryer I go

But it’s not yet done.

Two more trips around on the wheel

And finally the chunky flecks take over.

Set aside to dry.

One more present ready to fire.

Handmade by me with love.

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Autumnal Thoughts

Autumn just might be my favorite time of the year. Dropping temperatures bring relief from our heat and humidity. I long for that occasional chill in the air.

While we may not see frost on the pumpkins, my shelves are full of carved, ceramic, and cloth reminders of these fall beauties. Oranges, golds, reds, and purple leaves scattered all about remind me of maples and aspens and birch from the north.

Aromas of apples, cinnamon, vanilla and clove fill the air. I crave warm tea lattes with seasonal flavorings, and perhaps a slice of a good pumpkin roll. It’s getting to be time to look for those Thanksgiving recipes once more. Who doesn’t love a tasty sweet potato casserole or home made pecan pie.

It’s time to pull out the three quarter sleeves in oranges, russet, and creams. Let’s open the windows on the cool nights, turn on the fans, and cozy up under blankets. Enjoy the season while it lasts!

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Innocent Love

Shy smiles on cherub faces,

Playing in the field.

Surrounded by flowers,

He picks her a fresh bouquet.

She shifts in her little white dress,

Then pecks him on his cheek.

A light blush rises to his cheeks

As he rocks on his heels.

He grabs her hand and tugs.

They run giggling down the hill.

Love at its most innocent.

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Why?

Why are you home?

She asked the question.

The answer wasn’t as easy

As it would seem.

Why are you home?

Is it the warmth in your laugh

Even on a chilly day?

Is it the calmness in your demeanor

When everything has gone awry?

Why are you home?

Is it because you are willing

To call me out when needed

But kind and caring

When you do?

Why are you home?

Why does my heart feel happy,

at a quick text about your day?

Why can I tell you almost anything,

Even if I feel I’m being a fool?

Why are you home?

Then she wondered….

Am I home for you too?