the fuzzy bear,

Hello western wind plucking at my tree leaves,        hello hot cocoa knocking at my door.
There's a plump bird sitting by the window.   There's a May tree bending in the Rain.        The rain is stuffing buckets, again.... You'd think I'd be used to the cloudburst by now. Instead, I'm caught woolgathering thoughts of toasters.   
The birds are calling for shelter, and I'm whimpering for summer.   These days of wet stuff, and dark lights, ruin all of my plans.  As the meadows turn soggy, and the tree branches sag, I am burdened by walls. Stuck inside, away from the picnics, away from the sun's blessing.  If July doesn't dry our bags of bones, I might just slap a goat.
Caught by cloud tailing~ no brain for counting dimes~ tried to be a banker~ but I was born for rhymes



These photographs were taken on Friday,Plans for a picnic were destroyed when the sky line turned dusty, and showers began to pour.  I could have become one with the sky, weeping at the ruined day, while soaking my feathers.  Instead,    I stretched milky teeth, and found myself smiling.      We changed our plans, and kept our fates happy.

I blanket my belly~ with the tongue of the swain~ the buckets of love bring calm accord for my brain~

 A once promised open-air feast turned into Vietnamese chomping.    Fish sauce, fresh herbs, lemongrass juices, noodles, and steamed rice. All of the flavors beckoned my tongue.     As I sat by the window,  I peaked into the drenched atmosphere.  My tongue and belly were married by the deliciousness of food.  Suddenly, I realized something, something I hadn't realized before.  Food is more than flavor, color, or fuel.  Food is the magic seed planted by our teeth. Where food is planted,  love grows.
Too often,  where love should have been, I have loathed.  I have tricked myself into believing food is where fatness forms.  At one point in my life, I barely swallowed food.  I was afraid of losing bones, and growing skin on my belly.   I counted my calories.  I pinched my hips. I wasted shooting stars. I ignored the grumbles. I allowed myself to grow bare, and bony.  As my ribs began to poke through my chest,  I still saw the weight of my thighs. I don't know what overcame me, I don't know how my mirror started drawing make-believe.  Fortunately, I reclaimed my taste buds, grew back my skin, and became healthy again. Sadly, I continued to frown at the frame in the mirror.
spend the night beside her• bridle her pleasant whispers• take her dreaming hand• lead her rags to the richest waters.

As I sit here, snacking on marshmallows, carrying the weight of the poor weather,   I find myself turning a new leaf...   Food is here to be loved.        One day, I'll rock upon a porch with frail bones, and blind sight. Will it matter if I lived my life thin as the celery stalk? Or plump as the fuzzy bear?     All that will matter is the tastes of the treasure,  the marriage of flavor, and those who snacked with me.   I do not want rails for legs. I do not want to hear my belly sing.   I will start seeing my rosy-skinned cheeks for what they are.  
spend the night beside her• bridle her pleasant whispers• take her dreaming hand• lead her rags to the richest waters.

Thank you for reading. Sweet kisses !!!!

what i wore

fur- value village $15
dress- birthday gift from local boutique
shoes- H&M wedges thrifted $15

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