Awaiting Covid test results for some
I love who feel a little off this date,
who operate with different rules of thumb
regarding symptoms likely to abate,
I plan to amble over, through their gate,
and into rooms I’m sure are clean enough.
I’ll let the grownups rest and generate
some fun for kids too young to get this stuff.
(Huitain)
I love to be at home, but here’s the rub –
no matter how determined I’m to rest,
relaxing on my couch or in the tub,
attempting to feel easy, lazy, blessed,
I notice what needs dusting, or I scrub
a surface I ignored when I was stressed.
I have to leave if I’m to recreate –
vacation can’t be done without “vacate.”
(Ottava Rima)
Of course the grands are relatively old,
and vary in their states of health and vim,
but each of them is better self-controlled
than in their young adulthood – now they swim
in tempered hormones – nothing hot or cold –
and have the time to care for her and him.
Mature enough to focus and to wait,
good grands are in apprenticeship for great.
(Ottava Rima)
As far as I recall, I never ate
a morning breakfast with an appetite.
I always wanted several hours wait
(for me an intermittent fast was right).
As soon as I grew teeth, I liked to chew
nutrition – liquid food I didn’t do
if there was an alternative to munch
(and even now my molars want to crunch).
Regarding proper exercising breath,
although the coaches said I should exhale
by mouth, I tried and always seemed to fail
(I’ll in-and-out by nose until my death).
It now appears my instincts were correct –
if I’d obeyed, I’d suffer more defect.
Haven’t written today. If I had it would be
perhaps on the way my home’s precious to me.
Though it may be cliche to pursue privacy,
if asked I would say here I’m perfectly free.
Unsolicited
advice (if sound) never fails
to fall on deaf ears.
As long as I recall, I’ve looked around
at others and assessed their self-content.
So part-way through my youth, I thought I found
a path to understanding what life meant.
Developing ideas with the intent
of being happy, soon I tried to tell
the recipe. I know I failed. Unbent,
I comprehend the loneliness of well.
(Huitain)
A set of Sunday puzzles can’t reveal
an aptitude improved, a clearer mind.
And better stamina may not be real,
but normal variance. I’m not inclined
to a conclusion, but I can’t conceal
from me or this the benefits I find
this week, from breathing slow and through my nose.
I’m calmly into feeling where this goes.
(Ottava Rima)
I heard about the book six months ago.
I wasn’t ready then to buy and read.
It’s not that I had knowledge – I don’t know
enough about the subject to succeed
at rehabilitating injured lungs,
reducing hypertension, getting sleep.
I didn’t guess at mouths too small for tongues.
I never dreamed how good’s exhaling deep.
I only have my ignorance today,
but I’ll keep tearing through the book at hand.
I’ve four-fifths left to read and come what may,
I’ll eat the words, digest, and understand
a wisdom that will change how I respire,
and might expand the time till I expire.
It’s hard to believe,
but the over-achiever
knows nothing
that has
to be done.
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