Tag Archives: just desserts

Chocolate Cake–Musical Version


I have three different friends who have set my poems to music. Here’s another one recorded by Christine Anfossie, who also wrote the music. Thanks, Steve Raschke, for doing the remastering. I’ve published the poem before, but to listen to the musical version, click on the arrow below. If the arrow doesn’t work for you, click on the  link below it. The picture will vanish, but you’ll hear the song.. Weird.  For some reason some browsers won’t let you use the arrow.




You’re being good and I am not.
I broke my diet and got caught.
I’d have resisted if I could,
but chocolate cake just looked so good.

I bought a piece, not a whole cake.
I thought a meal of it I’d make.
But now you feel you must rebut
my obvious need for chocolate.

Will you soon go? It’s getting late,
and there’s this chocolate on my plate.
And though I know it’s impolite,
the chances that I’ll share are slight.

Of your smug lecture I’ve had enough
and now it’s my turn to be tough.
If you must fall from your high throne
and dine on cake, go buy your own!

My World

This is what Cee wanted to know this week:

If you were to pack a basket for picnic lunch, what would be in your basket?

In my picnic basket? Egg salad and ice cream
and one thousand ants, invading in a stream!

On a vacation what you would require in any place that you sleep?

When I lay me down to sleep,
I require a silence deep,
covers warm and soft and clean,
freshly washed in a machine.
But mostly, where I lay my head,
I pray, no bedbugs in my bed!

If you were to buy a new house/apartment what is the top three items on your wish list?

A bathroom for each bedroom, and bedrooms? At least two.
A kitchen with much storage, complete with maid would do,
A porch swing or two rocking chairs—a terrace with a view.
And interesting neighbors to enrich each day anew.


What did you appreciate or what made you smile this past week?  

My friend sent me a devil duck, as you can plainly see.
I put it in the pool to keep me company.
This cafe dessert was so-so, but Terry made a flan
that was so delicious, I had to lick the pan!
The showing by my friends was great. I always like their art,
but this brand new baby also won my heart.
Two cats no longer kittens, now  just barely fit
on cushions where all four once lay, but they do not know it!



Click on photos to enlarge.

For Cee’s Share Your World prompt.

Sugar, Sugar


Sugar, Sugar––You and Me

Hey, Sugar Sugar, you’re the one for me.
I enjoy each calorie.
Smooth or frozen with chocolate on top,
washed down with a glass of pop.
Pile on the sprinkles and roll in nuts.
You’re the best, no ands or buts.
My little Sugar is smooth and dreamy.
My little Sugar chewy, creamy.

Shortbread, brownies, chocolate chip––
in my coffee, I like to dip.
But cheesecake, pie––other forms of sin––
I put on the table and dive right in.
Swim to the middle with my teeth,
see what there can be beneath
the icing or cream or chocolate sauce.
When dessert arrives, Sugar’s the boss.

Hey Sugar, Sugar, you’re the one
in snow or rain or blistering sun.
I don’t care if you’re hot or cold.
Baked Alaska is great, I’m told,
but I also like a big old cone
just piled with ice cream, all alone.
Don’t touch my Sugar, don’t you dare!!!
When it comes to Sugar, I don’t share!!!





It floated off to the side,
disappearing when I turned to face it head-on.
It hadn’t his features, really,
but I felt his presence a dozen times after—
something floating just off the corner of reality.

Then, weeks later, in the bedroom—a bat.
It flickered against the white curtain and then disappeared.
Moments later, there it was again.
I jerked my head quickly around, flipped the curtain out,
examined its other side.
Moments later, there it was again.
Then a circle floated across to join it.
A hair floated down from above and stuck, center-vision.

A few hours later, the fireworks started—
flashing corollas of light just to the right of me,
like subtle flashbulbs going off.

This was when I decided I needed to see a specialist.
Yes, a retinal detachment, he agreed,
but not yet perforated.
Now, my movements curtailed,
I await that new cloudy ghost
that will be a harbinger
of surgery.

Every tope, every cobblestone
brings a new flash of light—
a signal to still myself.
No jumping. No Zumba.
No jogging. No lifting.

I wait, inactive, watching floaters
move to the center of my vision
and off to the side again.
I practice various levels of exertion,
waiting for the flash that signals rest.

I wait for words to float
across my vision,
to rend my inactivity
and prompt me
to pin them to the page––
to stitch them together
into a clearer sight
of what is there, invisible,
inside me, waiting for the tear
to let it out.
They are the ghosts
of the future
and I am the one
who seeks to gather them,
to mend the tear
and anchor
these slippery ghosts.

As we sat in the waiting room waiting (of course) for my eyes to fully dilate so the dr could do his tests, Gloria asked what the red dot was on my blouse. I hadn't noticed it, but the nurse said, "Oh we put that on her to show she'd been dilated!"  Two hours later, I was still waiting for the dot to turn green so I'd know my eyes had returned to normal!!!!

As we sat in the waiting room waiting (of course) for my eyes to fully dilate so the dr could do his tests, Gloria asked what the red dot was on my blouse. I hadn’t noticed it, but the nurse said, “Oh we put that on her to show she’d been dilated!” Two hours later, I was still waiting for the dot to turn green so I’d know my eyes had returned to normal!!!!

Red Dot Syndrome

Red Dot Syndrome

Artist's rendering of my retinal disfunction.

Artist’s rendering of my retinal disfunction.

Gloria, contemplating my fate.

Gloria, contemplating my fate.

Retina specialist humor.

Retina specialist humor.

An undashing pirate wench

An undashing pirate wench

My reward!!! Gloria got to share.

My reward!!! Gloria got to share.