Move Over, Shakespeare

Ok, guys. Here's the deal: while visiting my good friend and priestess-to-be shenkelwitz, I had a life-altering literary experience. No, I didn't read any amazing theological tracts, or discover a 15th-century illuminated manuscript from the Isle of Wight under the floorboards of the dining hall, or transcribe the tongues-talking of a progressive Pentencostal.

No, none of these is true.

The truth is far stranger.

I was moved--floored, is more like it; transported, would be more to the point--I was changed forever by the poetry of none other than....

(prepare yourselves, seriously. This is going to knock your socks off.)

Suzanne Somers.

Let me say that again: Suzanne Somers.

Yes, that Suzanne Somers, of Three's Company, Abisizer, ditzy blonde fame.

She's a poet and you didn't know it.

Now that you do know it, I will share the poem with you, gentle reader, that irrevocably altered the fabric of my existence.

Get ready. Take a deep breath, sit down if you're standing, lie down if you're sitting, maybe do some light stretching and if you have to pee, you'll really want to take care of that now.

Go ahead; I'll wait.

No, seriously, you need to do at least two of those things. Otherwise, you won't be ready and then you'll be upset later.

All right, then, it's on you. You've had fair warning, and I don't want to hear about it if something goes awry. I've done my duty by you. All of you.

Here we go:

"Extra Love," by Suzanne Somers, from _Touch Me_, copyright 1973 by the Workman Publishing Company.

Sometimes I wonder
If there's enough love to go around.
All the people I know grasp for it
The ladies whose husbands drift away
The men whose wives have forgotten to care
The children standing on their heads to be noticed
And, well, I might as well admit it
Me--how about me?
Sometimes I wonder if there's enough love to go around
With all the pain and longing.
But one thing is sure:
If anyone has any extra love
Even a heartbeat
Or a touch or two
I wish they wouldn't waste it on dogs.


There. There it is. I told you so, didn't I? Sort of takes your breath away.

This might be my last post before Christmas, so I'll just let that float away on the Yuletide air. Love you guys, and wishin' and a-hopin' that your hollidays are holy days indeed, and that the desires of your heart are fulfilled fulsomely. Merry Christmas to y'all and to y'all a good night!

Swim in Barton Springs on New Year's Day with me,

TR