Just Like Popeye

Blog 1643 – 03.22.2020

Just Like Popeye

Life Is Full Of Poetry

My life is full of poetry

Amorous & erotic too

Places, faces, exotic

Lovely/lusty to view.

In Spring not only lads’

Minds, other parts turn

Some older dudes too

Hearts churn and burn.

With love & lust fill up

Enjoying the best of life

Life an ever full-up cup

Finest mistress my wife.

In addition to this blog, my Daily Mockingbird Song email, and daily David Reads Children’s Books email, for some years now I daily compose and email to my wife “adult” poetry, erotic rhymes. Someday these too may fine a wider audience to the chagrin and accusations and judgments of sin perhaps of many. I have not for a long time professed to be a Christian, preacher or plastic saint. I am a man with as strong appetites as any. Women too have appetites. Those more women than men perhaps pretend not too. We know all the problems these pretensions foster. Teaching that religious leaders must practice chastity and that young people abstaining from sex is a viable birth control method only add to the turmoil and excess problems and population. The Creator of all this sex-love-lust drive said of it and all, “It is Good.” To imagine sillily that some “Fall from grace” forever changed us or things is not to give Him/Her or ourselves very much credit as Co-Creators. We are and I believe we have always been, and will always be brimming and swimming with life. The millions of swimmers and considerable number of eggs, if somewhat fewer in number, being but physical manifestations of the zest and spirit behind all this.

Today in my erotic epistle to my beloved wife I referred to the classic poetry line, “Gather ye rosebuds while ye may.” I first read those words as a lad myself and am still glad and grateful that she is of all the roses I ever saw, smelled, ever picked or desired too still a fragrant and beautiful part of my life. Is our life a proverbial “bed of Roses”? Hardly. Even if such a thing ever did truly exist there would be pricks to endure for roses have thorns too. So yes, I suppose our life together has always and continues to be a bed of Roses. She had the nerve and after all these years mistaken understanding of my heart to ask mid-argument the other day if I still wanted to be married. I have a theory not popular with romantics especially women that we are all forever married and that it is divorces that fail and not marriages. The ties made of lust and love may strain and at times cause us great pain as well as pleasure but they bind us forever together. Don’t want to admit you still think of your “Exes?” Afraid confessing so will cause the one you are with to become yet another? Relax, he or she thinks dreams of theirs and others too, nightmares and sweet dreams at the same time, that bed of Roses thing again.

Wow, I never really know where any particular train of thought might lead but I always hope the journey will provide at least a few encouraging wanderings. My life, as I said in my opening rhymes, is full of poetry, much of it exotic and erotic. Several times I have quoted in my blogging the popular Do Ho song of the nineteen sixties:

“Once in a while along the way loves been good to me. There was a girl…”

And the girl I most often see in my thoughts, my dreams, day and night, is you, my lovely Linda Lee, and if you don’t believe me, I can only quote another lovely love song from my youth:

“If you don’t know me by now then you will never, never know me.”

Know me that well or not, know this – you are the prettiest most beloved rose bud that I ever picked and I want you and all the world to know it. At this point, I cannot resist sharing a lady comedian’s joke that I heard last night. During the early moments of her act she shared about her not so bright husband that in school she had picked the hottest guy in the slow class. Toward the end of her act she shared that he often would say to her that if he died he gave her permission to remarry. She said she resisted saying, “Could I have Frank’s phone number then” saying what she knew that he really wanted to hear, “After you die, Bill, no man will ever call me wife again” then thinking the last part to herself, “I will just ball them all.” There you have it, true love and lust – my kinda gal, just like the loving and lusty girl I married and intend to stay married to for the rest of this journey at least.

Your friend and fellow traveler,

A really romantical guy, like Popeye,

David White

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