Tag Archives: girl

“Who me?”

So this is February…..a little warmer than usual but okay with me.

I’ll start with kids……they walk with a bag that has no cares in it,  knowledge of only what they like, fresh, candid opinions about those things they like, with the rest of the bag full of  ‘innocence.’

And as for the  ‘innocence’   don’t try it, ’cause that’s one ‘fragrance’ grownups can’t market.  hehe

“Who, me?”

“Who me.  Are you talking to me?’

‘Yeah..I’m talking to you, little gurr..l,’ he said.

“Well, I didn’t do it…You’ve got the wrong guy.”

‘Oh, yeah?  That’s not what Zoe told me.’

“Who’s Zoe?  Ne..ver ..heard… of… her.”

‘Well, I’m going to tell your mommy.’  he said.

“Go ‘head.  See if I care….I was in this sandbox all the time.”

‘Okay.  We’ll see….we got the goods on you.’

“Who me?  Are you talking to me, man?”
“I’m Jude and I don’t do anything.”

‘Well, that’s the problem.  You spilled the milk
and didn’t clean it up and Zoe got in trouble….so there.’

“Are you talking to me?  Who are you?  I don’t know you, kid.”

‘Zoe is your twin sister…and I’m your mommy’s friend’s kid, Zak…
don’t pretend, Jude.’  You’re gonna git it’

“I’m not afraid”

‘You better be…Zoe took a picture with your mommy’s camera phone’

“oops.  Zoe’s gonna git in trouble…she’s not suppose to have mommy’s phone”
“I’m gonna tell daddy when he gets home that that’s not me and you pushed me, Zak”

‘Jude…don’t you dare!’

“Who, me?  Are you talking to me…….Zak?”

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Filed under Family, kids, young girls

My Little Flower Girl

Such beauty there is in a field of wild flowers…..I’m sure the ‘flowers’ even sense it.

My Little Flower Girl

I saw a flower in the grass
standing over there
and oh, what pretty eyes, she had,
and oh, what pretty hair.

There were flowers everywhere
as far as I could see
but none as pretty as the one
that captivated me.

The twinkle in her petal eyes
as bright as diamonds rare.
The smile upon her petal face
something more than fair.

But oh, the pain to have to stand
and watch her every day,
to know someone will pick her up
and take her far away.

If only I’d been a flower seed
and planted by her side.
Would I’d seen her beauty or in
my blindness would it hide?

Her innocence makes me want to cry
but how happy she makes me feel.
She’s fresher than the freshest wind;
she’s something more than real.

But there’ll come a day when the trees are bent
and the leaves are all in a whirl.
I’ll say good-bye to her pretty smile
and the dream of my little flower girl.

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Filed under flowers, Love, Spring

“….But Not Forevermore”

Love is one routine that, if not guarded, is a vulnerable sensitivity that is easily prone to being taken for granted.  This is actually one of the many songs I wrote for my young wife, a few years back.

“……But Not Forevermore”

I will love you all through the night
until the early morn.’
And there I’ll watch your beautiful eyes
open to the morn.’

And if you ask me to kiss you again,
I will lean over and kiss you again.
And then I’ll leave you there in the light,
….but not forevermore.

And I will dream of your beautiful hair
the time that I’m away,
and try to rush the hours of dark
that bring the end of day.

And I will pick you up in my arms
and hold you very tight.
In timeless ecstasy, together we’ll fly
all through the fleeting night.

And then I’ll watch your beautiful eyes
open to the morn.’
And then I’ll leave you there in the light
……but not forevermore.

copyright © 2012 T.J. Gargano

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Filed under song

Could You Be True?

The power of new love is mesmerizing as it aims its arrows at the heart.  The tentative heart, not wanting to believe its good fortune, thumps out its doubts to bolster its hopes.  Is this feeling really true? it queries itself.

Could You Be True?

Could you be true or are you only a dream?
I’d sometimes like to know.
I might as well ask is the grass really green
or is white the color of snow?

Are you really as pure as the wind that blows
and as strong as the mountains are high?
Or are these questions to ask, but never to know
whose answers are lost in the sky?

Do you live in the past as you live each day
or do you wonder what the future may hold?
Will you remember April when she dies for May
or even May come winter’s snow?

Can you pretend your life is happy when your heart is really sad
and convince the ones around you that you’re true?
Can you smile when you’re unhappy and when things are going bad
turn the gray sky overhead to shiny blue?

Can you take the joys of happiness and the painful days of blue
and join them as one, forevermore?
Then your grass will be more greener and your sky forever blue
and the light of life will shine upon your door.

copyright © 2011 T.J. Gargano

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Filed under crafts

First-Born

This time of year invokes, for many, memories closest and dearest to their hearts,  and the memory of the moment of my first-born always tops the list.  Happy, healthy times to all this holiday season.

First-Born

For the angel that whispered in my ear
said ‘Today a father you will be.’
Startled, I turned and eyed a mirror
for the angel that whispered in my ear.
We named our first-born Amy and with a tear
each October fourth I steal a look to see
for the angel that whispered in my ear
said ‘Today a father you will be.’

copyright © 2011 T.J. Gargano

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Station Girl

Have you ever taken a trip alone on a  bus, and sitting there in your seat, groggy by your boring lifelessness, you are suddenly “awakened” by the sudden stop, after pulling into the station?  As you sit up and look out your window, your eyes search out and find  ‘beauty’ leaning up against a pillar by the station door.  The all of you awakens, as your eyes become transfixed, mesmerized by the anticipation of movement towards the bus. Blindly, you ready the vacant seat beside you.

As a young teen, I remember such a moment on a bus ride from Los Angeles, CA to St. Louis, Missouri.  It wasn’t until years later that I wrote this poem.

Station Girl

In darkness of morn’ the bus pulled out;
me now sleepy and my vision a blur.
At noon the turn northward awoke me in doubt.
By two, I was curious about the course of the route
when we stopped and standing there
in the station door, was her.

I wanted to call out and tell her my name;
I’ll wait ‘til she gets on and sits down.
Why is she standing there so calm and so tame?
Lightning! Thunder! It’s starting to rain.
The bus is moving; my heart is stopping;
my staring face in frown.

copyright © 2011 T.J. Gargano

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Filed under poetry