Touching You

I like to sleep with my hand touching you throughout the whole night;
I know you say it makes you too warm, but it lets me know that you’re alright;
It assures me you are breathing and still there by my side,
The other thing it does to me, under the covers I can hide.

It’s not a signal that I am amorous; I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable in any way;
It is really just for some security that on you my hand does lay.
I’ll admit that your soft, smooth skin to me feels really fine,
And, I would not be a bit put off if you also touched me back in kind.

I like to sleep with my hand touching you throughout the whole night;
I’ll keep it in a neutral spot until the morning light;
When we wake up in the morning I certainly understand
It is no sign of warning, if you move out from beneath my hand.

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The Summer of Seventy-Seven

During the Summer I discovered rock and roll
I lost my virginity to Billy Joel;
Listening to “Scenes from an Italian Restaurant”
You served me the dish I really did want.

While he waved to Brenda and Eddie goodbye
I was kissing your breasts and caressing your thigh,
It felt so good I wanted to cry,
I didn’t last long – but, boy did I try.

Now when my radio serves up that song,
I think back on those days that are gone
My first trip up the Stairway to Heaven
During the dog days of summer in Seventy-Seven.

With your father at work and your mother not home
We played both sides of “The Stranger” when we were alone;
I could tell that you loved me, by that look in your eye;
What made me a little crazy was, I didn’t know why.

When that summer finally came to an end,
I headed off to college and was lonely again,
You kept the album and a piece of my soul,
But I get a little back when I hear Billy Joel.

Christmas Memories

Merry Christmas to my family;

I’m sad you can’t be here with me.

But I’ll always have my memories

Of three kids running to the Christmas tree;

You’d all be up before the break of dawn;

With your Christmas Eve pajamas on;

You couldn’t go downstairs until Dad checked it first;

Staying in bed with Mom, excitement ready to burst;

I’d go downstairs and turn on the tree lights;

Of the cookies and carrots, I would take a bite;

Before yelling up that the “Coast is clear.

It looks as if Santa has been here.”

Pitter-patter of feet running down the stairs;

Wrapping paper gets thrown about everywhere;

Mom and Dad watching it all with a smile;

That we’ll keep on our faces for a long, long while;

Now that our three little elves are grown;

They are making new memories with elves of their own;

My wife and I sleeping in in our home;

Until we’re awakened by the telephone;

“Papa-Joe,” I hear from an excited little voice,

“Daddy says I have to call you, for a choice,”

“I want to go downstairs but Daddy says, no”

“We have to wait for the okay by Pappa-Joe.”

“Well let me get Santa on the other phone,

Just to make sure he’s been to your home.”

Hello, Santa this is Pappa-Joe,

I’ve got a question that I have to know,

My granddaughter says she’s been as quiet as a mouse,

But have you already been to her house?

“Okay, tell your Daddy you can all go downstairs,

Santa says he’s already been there.”

I hear the pitter-patter run away from the phone,

But in the sound of silence I no longer feel so all alone.

Merry Christmas to my family,

I am sad you can’t be here with me,

But knowing you remember our memories,

Always and forever makes be happy.

I Cry When She Cries

I cry when she cries, and,
Today she cries for her father.
The man who walked her down the aisle
Leaves to me his grieving daughter.

With a failing heart he held on for as long as he possibly could;
The love he felt for his family helped him live on when nothing else medical would;
By his side, my true love sat, with her own heart breaking in two;
To her first love, her husband joins, in bidding a fond adieu.

I’ve tried my best to treat her well
The way you asked me to.
But the bar you set was mighty high
And I fall far short of being you.

I am sad to see this good man gone
But sadder still because of my wife’s broken heart.
The man she loved, way before she met me
From her world today did part.

Rest in Peace and go with the Angels, good sir.