Love

All Poems, Food, Humor, Love, Stories

Waffles

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I raced into the kitchen.

Returning from a morning walk.

To grab the keys to the Volvo.

Pick up Bob from a service appointment for his car.

When I noticed, the table set for two.

A waffle iron poised to go.

Ready to make the crispy cakes.

As soon as he got back.

For we had all kinds of berries.

To pair with them.

Strawberries, blueberries, blackberries.

Not to mention figs and cherries.

Ricotta cheese and jam.

Whom do you know who would do that?

On a Monday morning?

Who would delay breakfast?

Fuss over an elaborate weekday one?

Serve it with panache?

Elegance, loving touch?

Culinary flair, good taste?

Wooing you with waffles?

Young again, you’re courted, chased!

Lynn Benjamin

June 25, 2024

Aging, All Poems, Change, Family, Gym/exercise, Health/Illness, Humor, Love, Pleasure, Seasons, Spouses

Transformation

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Bob transforms before my eyes.

Noting new muscles in stomach, thighs.

Increasing weights on machines.

Walking with zip, alacrity.

Signing up for classes to strengthen core.

Watching carbs, losing weight.

Shrinking from pant size forty to thirty-six.

A number he hasn’t worn since his twenties.

Why do people think a man of seventy-five can’t change?

Even become younger?

Stare at himself in the mirror like a seventeen-year-old?

Study his physique?

Buy stylish clothing?

New undergarments, socks?

Hold my hand, rub my back?

Flirt, enchant, allure with passion?

Wax poetic about flowers?

Blooming clematis, daisies, lavender.

Waiting for bee balm, Echinacea to bare petals.

Attract hummingbirds, butterflies.

Notice mating calls of frogs, foxes?

Cardinals, robins, wrens

Luscious sensuality abounds.

June’s vitality makes it easy to be young.

No matter your age.

Passion floats with pollen through the air.

Settling golden on the skin.

Transfigured, we instantly take care.

With vigor, once again smitten.

 

Lynn Benjamin

June 3, 2024

All Poems, Death, Family, In-laws, Loss, Love, Stories

It Was Simple

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It was simple, the unveiling.

Four of us.

Come to honor Ethel.

Her daughter from Atlanta.

Despite illness, pain.

Needing wheelchairs in the airport.

Making the trip with her husband.

To reveal the stone.

Ethel’s son and I.

Meeting them at the cemetery.

Removing gauze.

To exhibit the plaque.

Designed by Ethel.

Long before she passed.

Review the original gilt words:

Kindred Spirits Me and Thee

In Life and in Eternity.

Binding her to Mac.

Each relishing a second chance at marital love.

Until Mac departed nineteen years later.

We studied details.

Like we would a sculpture.

Glad the display outdoors.

In the thick of Spring.

When gardens overflowed with azaleas, irises, columbines.

Trees hung heavy with lilacs, empress blooms, honeysuckle.

Aromas luring Ethel’s spirit toward us.

Under cypresses.

For she, too, wanted to see the piece.

Marking her resting place.

Was it done correctly?

Everything in order?

Reminding us that GiGi referred to great-grandmother.

Title earned later in life.

Her energy picking up like wind.

Eager to chime in familial anecdotes.

We circled around to listen

till Linda’s hands, chilled.

Then we bid farewell,

conversation stilled.

Lynn Benjamin

May 16, 2024

All Poems, Animals/Insects, Family, Gym/exercise, Holidays, Love, Mother's Day, Spouses

There’s a First Time for Everything

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There’s a first time for everything.

Like finding yourself in a gym on Mother’s Day.

Instead of a park or familial gathering.

Carrying kettlebells, doing squats.

Lifting weights, crunching.

After a sprinkling of calls.

Texts from children, grandchildren.

Two neat packages for mother at the door.

But, in truth, not a bad way to spend a few hours.

On a damp, showery day.

Not alone, but in concert with an admirer.

Together over fifty years.

A man who woos me daily.

Walking the track with me.

From the window, watching geese shepherd their young.

Protecting, nurturing them.

Sparrows flapping in and out of a pipe in the stucco.

With ingenuity, grace.

Listening to an audio book as we circle round.

Alone on the path.

Then shifting to the studio.

Where Bob ferries equipment for both of us.

The gentleman he is.

Two of each piece of apparatus.

Pipes, bands, half balls for balance.

Finally, the machine room.

Taking turns exercising arms, legs.

Till exiting for a meander in mist.

Elixir for blooming trees, flowers, foliage.

And for us.

A natural steam bath,

opening ears and pores.

Mother’s Day music serenades

from avian troubadours.

 

Lynn Benjamin

May 15, 2024

All Poems, Animals/Insects, Babies, Birth, For Children, Love, Mother Love, Parent Love, Stories

What Is It About Geese in a Pond?

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What is it about geese in a pond?

Luring me toward them?

Multiple times a day?

To observe, snap photos?

Is it the goose honking each morning from a rooftop?

Announcing something new?

First the emergence of goslings.

Then, parents teaching them to swim.

Or, is it my own curiosity?

Admiration for these birds?

Calmly awaiting hatching?

Mother on her nest for weeks.

Father on duty around her.

Protecting his mate, progeny.

From outside threats.

Is it the way they pull together?

Now that the brood, born.

Both teaching chicks to glide upon water.

Withstand vagaries of weather.

Sunshine, clouds, drizzles, downpours.

Know when to nudge their small ones into naps?

All piling in under mother’s ample wing.

Hidden from prying eyes.

Instructing them to poke, peck for food?

While father continues his patrol, hissing at intruders.

What is it about geese?

A dedicated conjugal pair

prioritizing their young.

Collaborating tranquilly,

imparting inspiration.

 

Lynn Benjamin

April 28, 2024

All Poems, Birthdays, Emotions, Family, Farewell, Holidays, Homages, Love, Memories, Natural Beauty, Parents, Passover, Trees

I Wish I Could

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I wish I could take my father’s hand.

Amble together through Spring’s annual spectacle.

He’d be one hundred three, the first Seder.

Moving to this town before I did.

Passing away before I settled nearby.

Departing on his ninety-seventh birthday.

So, this April stroll, fitting.

By turns, under fickle drizzles, sunny skies.

Admiring lindens, oaks, maples.

Unfurling leafy banners by the thousands.

After restful winter naps.

Or, flowering cherries, crabapples, plums.

Already sailing blossoms along gusty currents.

Assembling petal carpets along roadways, grass.

How about magnolias?

A favorite for the seed pods he collected.

Tended to on a windowsill.

Or dogwoods, like ones he cultivated years ago?

Blooming in flamboyant abundance.

While Viburnum bouquets perfume the air.

Making our passage regal.

Then, parades of flowers by our feet.

Though daffodils fading, tulips, lavender, yellow, red, stand.

Rows of heavenly chalices.

Grape hyacinths, irises spilling over in purples, yellows.

Phlox, violets, bushy clumps peeking through rocks.

Hosta lilies poking up in clustered stems.

One last tree before farewells.

The potted lemon, now outside, imbibing April breezes.

Popping buds to deliver fruits in December.

Once his to water, trim, fertilize.

Now my household, its steward.

If only wishes could come true,

how blissful I would be.

To watch the springtime world renew

in my father’s company.

 

Lynn Benjamin

April 22, 2024

 

All Poems, Catalina Island, Love, Natural Beauty, Pleasure, Trips and Places

Hermit Gulch Trail

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We wanted one last hike.

Headed toward Hermit Gulch Trail.

Out of the city, up the hill.

Past the closed nature center.

The golf course, the Sandtrap Restaurant.

Bob studied a map.

Took us to the other side of the street.

Where we began to ascend.

Met a few age mates coming down.

Telling us this was not Hermit Gulch Trail.

This one was doable, beautiful.

The other, narrow, treacherous.

Reassuring revelation.

We continued upward.

Not meeting another hiker.

Just hawks, ravens.

Lizards, snails.

Aromatic foliage that no perfumes could replicate.

Manroots, ginestas, peas.

Palms, cacti, branches dotted in red berries.

Along this path not chosen,

we felt amorous and bold.

Minds, souls interwoven.

Jubilation uncontrolled.

 

Lynn Benjamin

March 28, 2024

 

 

 

 

Aging, All Poems, Anniversaries, Change, Family, Gym/exercise, Health/Illness, Love, Spouses

In Sync

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You two are in sync, said the trainer.

Pointing toward Bob and me.

In our core strengthening class.

As we pulled, rotated orange bands.

That’s what happens when you’re together as long as you two.

At once, I did a silent calculation.

Fifty-four years of marriage in June.

Not counting years of dating, engagement.

Roughly six after another one, flirting.

I have suitcases of letters to prove it.

So, at the trainer’s observation, I smiled.

Added, in synchrony even with my eyes closed!

He laughed.

Moving us to floor time on mats.

Lifting legs, hips, backs.

Supermans.

Finally, the medicine ball.

New to me, but apparently an ancient exercise.

Used by Greeks for health.

Persians for wrestlers.

Romans for gladiators.

Re-appearing in the early twentieth century in the US.

In a volleyball-like game called Hooverball.

And today, I encountered it for the first time.

A ball-shaped weight.

Not a kettlebell or dumbbell.

Rather, a sphere filled with sand and mud.

To hold and pivot.

Wham down, pick up.

User-friendly, exhilarating fun.

Hold in both hands, twist.

Slam against the floor.

Play for a seasoned couple

to build yet more rapport!

 

Lynn Benjamin

March 17, 2024

 

All Poems, Animals/Insects, Emotions, Family, For Children, Grandchildren, Love, Mexico, Playa del Carmen, Trips and Places

Playa del Carmen Teems with Animals

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Playa del Carmen teems with animals.

Pigeons, seagulls, myna birds.

Lizards, turtles, coatís.

Also, unclaimed dogs and cats.

Which lure Liora at every turn.

To stop, croon, pet them.

Cradle their woeful voices.

Their complaints, problems, hungers.

If I could, I’d carry each one home, she moaned.

And she meant it.

For Liora’s heart is big,

full of empathy.

Ready to embrace all strays

with love and charity.

 

Lynn Benjamin

February 24, 2024

All Poems, Emotions, Family, Grandchildren, Grandparents, Love

Day of Anticipation

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The day of anticipation has arrived.

Packed, ready to go.

Awaiting arrival of two grandkids.

Whom Grandpop would ferry here by train.

Once their school day, done.

You might ask what the anticipation is.

The trip to Quintana Roo?

Activities planned?

Warmer climate?

For me, not.

Rather, the sentiments of the children.

Traveling together.

To an unknown land.

Undiscovered adventures.

Different climate.

The place, schedule, weather

could be anywhere on earth.

It’s witnessing the children,

their wonder, for me, the worth.

 

Lynn Benjamin

February 20, 2024