Wherein Christine hies in gleeful haste to New York to see The Last Ship and The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, which unexpectedly ended up playing on Broadway together, despite The Last Ship being based in Chicago when she learned of it.



*     *     *     *     *

I wish the World would whisk me far away

From all the cares and worries I call home,

From all the wants that expectations lay

Upon my shoulders, thwarting yearn to roam;

I wish my Voice were stronger than the weight

Of all the cares and worries in my Heart,

And that my fingers walked with lighter gait

Over the leaves, which cache my precious Art;

I wish that Men would hear this silent plea

And stretch their arms to welcoming enfold

This wayward Heart, a better part of me

Than all the doubts and fears that I behold;

I wish and want and watch with yearn-filled eyes,

Then I breathe deep and plunge for star-filled skies.

*     *     *     *     *

Sonnet XXXIV

*     *     *     *     *

A quagmire path before our feet is bled,

As if the way to breathe were set in stone,

And when we dare to turn aside our tread

A thousand yokes around our necks are thrown;

The World, it seems, would tie us to its track,

Ensuring all our ways have been before,

The “Tried and True” dictating at our back,

Forcing our feet thru muddied trials of Yore;

Yet if we dare to backward glance our eyes,

A vacant Shade is all that we will see,

No gun or knife enforcing our demise,

But ghost Assumption holding out a key,

And if we take that key from fingers cold,

A way of warmth and freedom we’ll behold.

*     *     *     *     *

A Curious Experience

At Maggie’s urging, Christine has decided to try her hand at writing about shows she sees!

She is very ‘Curious’ to see where this takes her.

*wink wink, nudge nudge*

(i. e. bad pun alert.)

A Curious Review

*     *     *     *     *

The Last Ship

Close encounters of the Rock Star kind
Close encounters of the Rock Star kind

The Last Ship: Review

*     *     *     *     *

Dinner for One

*     *     *     *     *

A light bag set upon an empty chair,

A gentle scarf unwound with gentle care,

A care full purse upon a table set,

A dainty coat with dainty chair back met,

A single soup framed by a pristine plate,

A single sip and silent, sav’ring wait,

A frond bouquet arranged to please the view,

A pleasant touch appreciating hue,

A quiet glance across an unplaced grain,

A quiet breath drawn in with graced restrain,

A graceful tear that’s not allowed to fall,

A falling weight, which sighs an unheard call,

A lonely wish that leads a Heart to tear

In poignant silence, wishing you were here.

*     *     *     *     *

Light and Shadow...
Light and Shadow…

*     *     *     *     *

Who am I?

*     *     *     *     *

Who am I to fill the world with words

And bid an other’s Heart bend to my view,

To lift an arm authoratively towards,

Directing eyes to that which I feel true?

What is my name that I should will it weight

And stamp it like a brand upon this page,

That is should Pause and Virtue propagate

Simply because a blot is counted sage?

What is this face that it should garner Looks

When late the crowd looked past it as thru glass?

Now searching eye and gratitude it brooks,

Before long drown’d in negligent morass;

I am a Man as any here you see,

But I stand tall;  I Will my worth to be.