Bliss

A heart drawn in the sand by lovers, Puerto Nuevo, Baja California Norte, México
 
 

I hate broccoli—
loathe the stuff.
But it is bliss
to kick off my sandals
and draw on the beach
with my toes.
It is rapture
to wear a different wig each day
and keep people guessing:
“Who is that woman?”
And when I purse my lips
to kiss you? O what delight!
I don’t even worry about the dents
I got in my car last night!

 

Poem and photo © 2017 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
NOTE TO THE READER: Some elements of this poem are autobiographical, but I am NOT a hater of broccoli! The declaration of antipathy toward that particular vegetable just happened to work with this poem.
 
   
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