If i could tell you how being showered with a tsunami of love feels, I would. But I’ve not that great a gift with words, though wordsmith on occasion I attempt to be, this thank-you can not reach the heights of the largesse you good people deserve.

In deepest respect, the following has been composed in hopes I do not “overstep the bounds of modesty” as my foolish center-stage ego is wont do do on occasions. I’m leaning on great artists and metaphor to do the heavy lifting for me.

You can not gab the air

You can not grab the air...

You can not say I’m sorry, easily, when it’s too late.

Madison Avenue rebates

possess no oxygen.

We all scream for ice-cream

holding on to each other, melting away

as the Big, sugar cone is filled.

The Captain has no rudder

as long as Bulls run in the narrow street

Shuttering

gasping for “Starry Nights.”

You can not grab the air

Oh, praise the good, 40 million copies sold in 1960.

Back against the wall; ask for charity? Running out of choices; damn me for not planning.

....

From home, old acquaintances:

Memories for sure

Wanting a conversation beyond politics; I do. Vignettes.

Growing to love this tune, especially the lyrics.