Grace Christine Doucette, October 12, 1926-July 27, 2009

Dear Jeanne Marie,

I’m dysfunctional? What’s that you say?

Well, I’ll deny it to my dying day.

I look at the world with rose-colored glasses,

It’s the men I find that make the wrong passes!

I’m so innocent, I believe all their lies

I think that’s true love deep in their eyes.

I see only what I want to be there

And accept love unafraid, not a care.

I function perfectly straight every day

And don’t allow reality to get in my way!

When I kiss my prince, he instantly

becomes a toad,

And I’m covered with warts,

alone on the road.

But I keep going, living my dreams,

Life just can’t be as bad as it seems!

Dysfunctional? Nope, not me!

I’m still waiting for my prince at seventy-three!

Guess Who?  (Love, Mom)

THE FLAME

by Grace Christine

How many times…

Happy everyDay in Pink

Meet me and Michelle Marie
under the pink tree
it is covered in buds and
bursting with pink blooms.
We can invite the Monarchs
and welcome the Bohemians
because as you can see
there is certainly enough room.
Everyone can laugh and play
in the shade of the pink tree
even sand cranes uninvited
who were welcomed anyway.
Fed them Cheerios and bugs
and then without a thank you
they up and wandered away.
Meet me and Michelle Marie
under the pink tree
we will watch as the buds open
catching pictures of pink flowers
just as soon as they bloom.
Meet me and Michelle Marie
under the pink tree
because as you can see
there is certainly enough room
for two or even thirty-three.