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1.
A Rip-Off of Gilbert
& Sullivan
(first
I sing)
Along about this time of
year I tend to think aesthetic'ly
And try to tell you how I feel with flowing words poetic'ly
The problem oft encountered, though, describing thoughts cosmetic'ly
Is coming off effectively, sincerely, not synthetic'ly.
(and
the chorus sings)
He tends to think
aesthetic'ly with flowing words poetic'ly
Describing thoughts cosmetic'ly, sincerely, not synthetic'ly
(then
I sing)
I know I'm not the model
of the husband you'd have liked to had;
I'm thoughtless, unambitious, and my manners may be very bad,
Which very often happens when you marry far too young a lad,
But face it dear you're stuck right here, this marriage contract's
ironclad.
(and
the chorus sings)
He's not what you'd have
liked to had, his manners may be very bad,
You married far too young a lad, but face it dear it's ironclad.
You
might as well be satisfied and suffer with the lot you got,
Your husband's not a Lancelot, you're living not in Camelot,
You may not own a fancy mansion, let alone a pleasure yacht,
A husband who's in love with you and worships you is what you got.
(and I
sing)
I know this isn't
Camelot with fancy home and pleasure yacht
And all my love is all you got, but thirty-eight years is a lot.
Just
another WarrenPiece
So, there you have it.
If you know of any Sullivan types out there looking for another Gilbert
with whom to collaborate, tell him about Warren Gilbert Dickman.
Who knows what can happen?
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2.
Love's
Last Audit
For
flowery words I have no gift; deep thoughts I'm rarely thinking,
And when it comes to penmanship, my dear, I fear I'm stinking.
But none the less amid this mess I'll sum up for your pleasure,
Donations to our mutual fund you've granted in full measure.
In
'sixty-two who knew that you would be my life-long buddy?
We'd both tried once, struck out at love, our crystal ball was muddy.
"We'll make it work this time," we said, but no one thought we
meant it.
The means, it seems, for life-long dreams had not yet been invented.
Of
course, I knew that you were who I prayed would share my dreaming
Of mountain cabins, babbling brooks, blue lakes with rainbows teeming.
But you were from a Texas town and I a guy from Brooklyn,
So fat chance you and I would fly where angels yearn to look in?
Now
reassessing all those years of mutual indenture;
The motorcycles, horses, boats, and trips of wild adventure;
I know I owe it all to your intrepid flexibility
That we hold these fond memories to warm us through senility.
Just
another WarrenPiece
by
Warren Dickman
To Nelly, my darling,
Thanks for the memories.
June 3, 1961 - Eternity
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3.
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Fountainhead
Revisited
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Can
this really be year forty-six that we now celebrate
That day of endless pleasure in your Hard-Top Eighty-Eight?
Old Fred had said to see him wed I’d have to bring a date
Then you were there with flaming hair and Hard-Top Eighty-Eight.
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Though
six years old it shined like new and you at twenty-four
The loveliest of redheads were, so then and there I swore
That somewhere I would find the nerve to ask you for a date
And one day you and I would fly that Hard-Top Eighty-Eight.
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Was
that way back in sixty-one? My how the years flew by.
It seems like only yesterday we told old Fred good-bye.
Though that party ended early our trip home would have to wait;
A night of romance beckoned from your Hard-Top Eighty-Eight.
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Cross
town to Eddie Bohn’s we flew, then Pat and Pat’s till dark,
Then up into the mountains searching out a place to park.
But none could know that night there, nor even speculate
What sparks we would ignite there in your Hard-Top Eighty-Eight.
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For
that night sparked an inferno that still blazes to this day,
Though some details may be sketchy if not lost along the way.
Yet as dreams rekindle memories may the world commemorate
That birthplace of our endless love, your Hard-Top Eighty-Eight.
Just
another WarrenPiece
by Warren Dickman
To Nelly, his bride in perpetuity.
In loving memory of all that took place on
June 3, 1961
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The
First Hurdle
It
seems like only yesterday
When, at their wedding party,
We waited oh so long to eat;
The bride and groom were tardy.
With stomachs growling, faces scowling,
Some began to moan and groan,
That, knowing them, they'd found a place
Where they could party on their
own.
So,
when at last they made their entrance
It was not considered rude
To forego the usual greeting
And to line up for some food.
For the lines were getting longer
And the food was going fast,
And the foremost thought on every mind was,
"Will the turkey
last?"
Ah,
what a lovely couple were they,
Dancing on that night,
Stan in tux with tie of teal,
Ginger in her purest white.
As the flash bulbs started popping
And the video cameras whirred,
All the revelers were clapping,
But those dreamers never heard.
Transfixed
by each other's charms,
Oblivious, and somewhat dazed,
They frolicked in each other's arms,
As on each other's face they gazed,
Never doubting for a moment
That this moment of their love
Would last through all eternity
With blessings from above.
Now
they're over that first hurdle,
Seems a year goes by so fast;
Still the honeymoon's not over
Nor has every test been passed.
But while challenges of married life
Daunt lesser ones, perhaps,
That real cool cookie, Stan, won't crumble
When his Ginger Snaps.
Just
another WarrenPiece
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5.
The
Fisherman and The Lady
'Twas
April Fourteenth, Seventy-Eight.
Lest any should repudiate
what on this very special date
the two of them were doing,
Let's for a moment contemplate
their entry to the grand estate,
the legal right to procreate
through mutual "I Do"-ing.
Our hindsight intuition
says
that he was probably wishin'
he was fishin', with precision
swishin' flies to waiting bass.
For he had but one ambition
and considered his commission
was to fishin' competition,
pulling lunkers from the grass.
But he set aside this mission
for submission to tradition,
and Patrician erudition
soon replaced his noble cause.
Now a maid with hair of titian
dishin' clams and oysters squishin'
and musician's compositions
may engender his applause.
The Mrs. was the perfect mate
to tolerate and moderate
that diehard fishing reprobate,
and of her own volition,
Found better ways to celebrate
and venerate their special date;
They'd renovate and recreate
the joys of goin' fishin'.
For many
years ago this day
they both agreed to go their way
through life together come what may,
the good times or perdition.
And though it's now an old cliché,
the best times all the bad outweigh,
But those which in their hearts will stay
were spent when they went fishin'.
Just
another WarrenPiece
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6.
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Seize
The Moment
To Nelly, my darling,
who has stuck with me all these years.
Live for today, our wisdom cries,
On looking back through endless years
To youthful days with mackerel skies
When joie de vivre outweighed fears
Let's seize this moment while we can
Latch on to this day of life,
Those inner joys shared when a man
Does truly love his loving wife.
Leave old age for the elderly;
Let them reminisce
About the past, the things they've done,
The good old days they miss.
With age and wisdom as our fort
Let's love and laugh and roister.
Our ship has finally made the port;
The world's at last our oyster.
Our best of times ahead still lie
With greater happiness than ever.
Though yesterdays have all flown by
Tomorrow's dreams will last forever.
Warren Dickman
Copyright
©2000 Warren Dickman
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7.
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Gardens of the Heart
That tender gaze from cross the room,
The reaching out of hand so warm,
A phone call in the afternoon,
To comfort midst imagined storm.
Such trivial seeds when sown apart,
Beneath the surface soon mature
To cherished gardens of the heart
Where true loves flourish and endure.
Warren Dickman
Copyright
©2000 Warren Dickman
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