Bertha’s Broadside

This is a tribute to all my lovely lady friends I meet and greet in Walmart early every Sunday morning.
Queens of the morning, gliding through the store—
skintight leggings catch the light, pajamas whisper comfort, bathrobes swirl like capes.
Just a joyous bunch–
energy and graciousness.
Gosh, they treat me like a son.
Each one navigates the narrow aisles with the grace of ballet.

Bertha
(and the Voluptuous Derriere)

My Sweet Chariot
(swings willlld)

Give me berth—
(or give me death.)

Give me an isle—
(or I’ll displace you.)

Give me a cart—
(or I’ll ride in yours.)

Push me freely.

Hug me.
Love me.
Free me.

Or leave me:
alone.

My Sweet Chariot
will find
a satisfying
home.

—second page—

In your sweet embrace
I find my place, my pace,
(my love—my pussssh from above.)

My Sweet Chariot:
a loving home.

You, on my couch
in the Velvet Ark,
wrapped in cusssshions,
enveloped inside me.

You siggggh…
with satisfaction.

Closing note:
A personal dialog
about having your cake
and eating it too,
as it were.
A+

The answer,
the act,
the word is—

Love

Bertha
is a boat
I can float
feelings on—

broad enough
to carry me home.

(Flussssh…)

It’s a date.
Meet me at Walmart.
Sunday morning, early.

We’ll stroll the aisles—
with love, laughter, and magic,
in the midst of family.

Queens of the morning,
Bertha at the helm,
carts as chariots,
home in every direction.