Poem: Wrapped Refrain – “A Good Guy” 


http://www.inspiredbythis.com

——

You’re a good guy, I want to spend, 

My days smiling at time you lend,

From a busy schedule, life before —

I entered your picture, adore —

The way you spend time taking Grandma for groceries,

How you talk to her, bored but, showing pleasantries.

—-

You make me believe beyond my doubt,

That there are good men on love’s route.

That it’s alright to share my heart,

You won’t burn it and then depart,

You’ll understand it’s a gift freely given, a grace,

Something you’ll treasure when we’re together, embrace.

—–

I’ll believe in true love because in,

Or true life meet-cute, you’ll me win,

I’ll see your flaws apparent, grin.

Because I have many of those too let’s swim.

To oceans where the breeze plays in sand and surf waiting,

For us to walk through tides rushing in, both debating.

—-

The merits of some random item,

Verses some other thing enlighten,

Laying against your heart, hear beating,

The sound of safety completing,

No questions in my mind, though life together maybe hard,

We are two, in a partnership, sorting playing cards.

Life can be a serious game who wins?

Me or you? Important? Bigger things.

Letting you triumph because competition,

Fuels you, you’re happy — elation. 

Sometimes I beat you; you get this look, how’d I do it?

I’m only a beginner; You have to remain with it.

—–

Only a mere test, see frustrated,

Wondering how I beat you jaded, 

I’ll never tell but, next game yours,

Your counting, I’m not keeping score,

I’ve won you next to me at night, dreamers dreaming.

You’re a good guy; delight in me, lips close, us breathing.

——

©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved. 

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Sunday Photo Fiction: A Dangerous Drive


“Where are we Joline?” James asked his wife. Joline rolled her eyes.

“Look, James. Just because you drive most of the time when we’re in the car together, doesn’t mean I’m not a skilled driver.” James appeared skeptical.

“Well, we’ve been stuck in traffic a long time. Maybe we should find a better route?” Joline cast James a withering look.

“It’s Portland and it’s rush hour traffic. I’m following the route the GPS is telling me to take.” James sighed. He was about to say something when their car was rammed from behind.

“Are you kidding me?” James complained. “This is a Mercedes.” He looked behind him to see a white pick-up truck backing up.

“What’s wrong with the truck driver. Why is doing that to us?” Joline asked, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles.

The truck rammed the Mercedes again. James and Joline’s car grew perilously closer to the edge of the freeway. “Let me drive Joline. I’ll get us out of this honey,” James assured his wife.

They were changing seats when the truck crashed into them again. The Mercedes flipped and hurled down to a lower level of the freeway and burst into flame.

The driver of the truck sped off, dodging through traffic which had begun to move. As he drove by, he watched the Mercedes burn with boredom. Stupid tourists.

Roads
Alistair Forbes “The Freeway in Portland.”

Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.