My children, they say
I’m a clean freak
Not so, I’m tidy
There are the dust bunnies
One can see them on hands and knees
Guests don’t crawl, not at my house anymore
The dust bunnies are safe;
I am neat, so I am safe
You’ll thank me one day
Or your husband or wife will
My liberal stance evident as they are all boys
I do not limit their play to clean
The ps3 to make beds
To scrub, mop, dust
Beyond normal limits
Does not interfere with
Enjoying their childhood fun
The whole time I’m talking the memory
That messy and dirty meant poor,
Unloved, uncared for
This is our home I say
I’m not comfortable
In a mess, it distracts me,
Makes me think of things I
Do not want my mind lingering on
Pick it up or it’s gone
I demand
It’s my house now
No clutter
Just do what I say
When you have your own house
You can be a self possessed secure person
Comfortable
In sloppiness
I was not wired that way
I’m sorry
All posts by Lesley Buse
D-Man and His Daughter
For a father and his daughter; working together -Programmer and Designer.
Sorry DM…no rhymes!
A violin playing gentle man
Appearing gruff, hesitant
Fluorescent yellow soda
caffeine, in hand, making
Nicotine circles looking
To the west for a change
In the weather, always a chuckle
A daughter lovely indeed
Her angel wings
Invisible to the naked eye
Quiet rescue abundantly given
Sometimes requested,
Sometimes simply a gift
Our Two lucky charms
Perfect sense they
Parent and child
Unspoken pride seen
In the crooked smile
Upon reference
To the other
Understood affection
Designers of dreams
Colors images and codes
Talents shared to
Provide experiences
Magic not understood
Fixing, creating
Appreciating both, always
Mommy Regrets
That blue dress, it was tight through the hips
Thank yous not written after receiving a gift
The extra cookie when I was already stuffed
Yelling too often when I’d just had enough
Little girl dreams I didn’t make come true
Saying good night without an I love you
Purchasing cards instead of creating my own
Feeling too busy to chat on the phone
Lunch dates promised but not ever made
Not stopping the bully, I was just too afraid
Packing my bags, always something I miss
Hurried goodbyes and forgetting the kiss
Not reaching out and holding you tight
Reminding you always it will soon be alright
A Holiday Walk
I follow the dried up creek bed
While heading to my usual place of pause
It is worn, almost forgotten,
Except for the teetering old four by four
Precariously hoisted across it I imagine
By a threesome of adventurous boys
This tired limestone slab stairway
Wrought from years of diligent sculpting
Once having directed a grand flow of water
A natural engineering necessity
Now only host to the here and there
Muddied pools of stagnating lost capability
Accompanying its rocky depths around a bend
Soon, the bridge a favorite resting spot
To lean and peer at the life promising fork
Feeding the once mighty ancestor its
Sparkling presence rescuing lost glory
From a sluggish demise, merging
Joyfully in a chuckling waterfall
Trees straining in reflection leaves applauding
The propinquous scene offering hopeful belief
Life does not end it simply holds on waiting
Until a fortuitous offer around the next corner
Gives resurrection to the journey
The Wish List
Dear Santa
i am 8 and
all i want is a sister
someone to giggle with
someone to fight with
fair and square
i love my brothers
but they tickle til
i cry and play dirty
plus they hate my
doll and when i play
the violin they make
fun of me so i don’t
want to practice even
when mom scolds me
if i don’t.
and they say i have
cooties and that
i smell
i don’t think
i smell santa
i know it won’t be
perfect with a sister
but i’d sure like to try
i know i keep asking
santa every year but i
just thought i’d ask one
more time
pretty please Santa
i think i will need her
when i get old and i
need someone who never
forgets me even when
i’m dumb
who calls me just to say
hey, got time to talk?
i’ll always say yes
even when she’s
kinda dumb
which won’t be
a lot. i will talk
to her even if
i was just going
out the door
just think about it Santa
and if you cant
could you get someone
to borrow one
of these dumb
brothers of mine
Breakfast with Buse 