I’d Be that Tramp

through entertainment’s prism of 1960
one raging wish have I
to live a single glorious night
swaddled in Rat Pack company
blinded by devilish eyes and wily smiles

as black fedoras set like ascending jet planes
from center stage
swagger and melodies floating effortlessly
I’d inhale those gents’ intoxicating charisma
letting each velvet voice weave through my silk threads

beyond my mind
yes, this lady would be that tramp
not dishing the dirt
but tucking this beguiling dream
where she buries her most romantic schemes and sweetest treasures

and if it wouldn’t be asking too much of the fickle fantasy gods
this lady also pines for Mario Lanza
circa 1950
thank you
that will be all…;)
fedora10 minute sketch composed several hours ago, I’m a bit lazy today – ’cause this sketch needs more than 10 minutes…oh well, it is fantasy

Locked Holy Doors and Worn Tombstones

Dear Friends,
This afternoon the giant husband and I did some weekend running around. On the way home, we passed by a lovely old, shingle-sided church.

pres signBy appearances, it hadn’t held a congregation in quite some time. The front door was locked and bolted – a sad sight for a house where one is supposed to find solace and prayer. The building might even be for sale – sadder still…

door lockedAdjoining this historic structure was an old graveyard.

cem side shot Many of the stones, some going back to the 1700’s, had served hard time. Some had sprouted lichens.

lichensStill others surfaces were so worn the names and dates were no longer readable.

brown lichensSome stones rested on one another for support, clinging to the last vestiges of their earthen anchors.

3 overThere was a beautiful tree, its powerful branches watching over and protecting its wards.

tree & stonesIt continues cherishing thousands of secrets and keeping whispers safe.

tree with monuOver the years, I’ve passed by many houses of worship. Their doors locked when services are not underway. I’ve passed by ancient cemeteries too, some a bit neglected.
In times of real need, we alone must bow our heads to dream of hope, pray for peace and hold onto our loved ones as long as possible on this earth…

vwThis post is dedicated to Phyllis Rose who lost her battle with cancer on Friday night. My mom told me of Phyllis’s passing. She was 53. I hadn’t seen Phyllis Rose since I was in my teens. On Friday night, I was worrying about getting the grocery shopping done…life is…
Thank you and goodnight. May your dreams be peaceful and your wishes all come true…

(Sketched the day of this post. This is my handsome nephew, VW. Image inspired by my sister Dolores’s photo)