Happy & Handsome

Photo discovered on Facebook’s ‘memories’. Wow!😀🥰😍

Happy & Handsome💕📸

Someone took a photo: a man & wife photo.
A charming libretto, bel canto, a logo
For gladness and love.
She looked so happy and he looked so handsome.
The whole photo sunny, the whole photo winsome.

As poet I thought, “now therein’s a title”
And so it began, the pondering whittling
An essence and extract distilled from above.

Simple and peaceful, the pair almost playful
And prayerful, the photo caught all.
Stability shone through. Harmony too.
Cheer bursting through to complete all the virtues.

Someone took a photo which wound up on Facebook.
A picture to spread to the heart with a lace like
Impression of sweetness.

We thank you whoever…wherever you are
To take such a photo and make it a star.

Happy&Handsome 2.12.2019 Love Relationships II; Arlene Nover Corwin

Year After Year: More Love

Found on a scrap of paper being used as a bookmark and dated 12.19.2017. The content was vaguely structured and unfinished, and seemed to be directed at a two people relationship. As I copied it it took on a life of its own and wound up as something much broader than that.

Year After Year: More Love💕🧘‍♀️👫

Year to year
I notice that I love you more.
What mechanism is at work?
What key? What trick?
The love is tenderer and steadier,
Patient, free and headier.

Love is giving.
Giving means the gift of living
To the giver and giv-ee,
Who doesn’t want to live in perpetuity?

So, morning, noon, and night
It’s fair to say that love is light
And maybe Light in deepest essence.
So I thank whoever for its presence:
Who, where and whatever
Put this love in gear
To make it more
Year after year.

Year After Year: More Love 1.24.2019 Found on scraps; Love Relationships II; To The Child Mystic II; God Book Ii; Arlene Nover Corwin

Mister Moon Looking In The Window

Tonight’s a full moon so I thought I’d leave you with this, written in 2003.

Mister Moon Looking In The Window🌓🌔🌔🌕

Looking in the window,
Angle forty five degrees or so,
Minutes before midnight,
TV show still going strong,
I, inspired by his song –
Who woos from distances I cannot reach,
Who, tempting me with valley eyes and mountain nose,
River mouth, a face that shows
The whole of him for one sweet night;
A peachy ball,
An all that sees.

I’m watching and he’s watching
Yet there´s nothing he can give
Except the tides, the tears,
Moon madness´fears –
From where I sit
He looks a little lost in space,
That still, still face
Accepting clouds that shroud;
Black veils erasing, chasing,
Placing his enigma high-up
On the list where from and why.
The window´s creamy moonglow.
He and I, embracing from a sky
Unmoved, a courtship undeniably
Unheard in silence.

Mister Moon Looking In The Window 5.16.2003 Love Relationships; Circling Round Nature;

Massaging Each Other

Massaging Each Other😍👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨✍️

There we were,
Abreast of one another,
To be grammatically a brother, –
Beside each other,
Side by side, close to…
Nose to…
(I’m a sucker for a rhyme)
Morning fingers pushing gently,
Then experimentally
Finding spots so tender
From the night before.
Here and there, right sore
Not eros –
Nothing like that fed or seeded.
Just the miracle of touch.
Magic finger brains coupled to
The intuition. Such
No wonder we’ve survived these million years.

Massaging Each Other 9.19.2018 Love Relationships II; Circling Round Eros II; I Is Always You Is We; Arlene Nover Corwin.

She Dry, He Soft

In these days of online conservatism, I dare not publish what-I-think-is a sweet and loving poem.  Of course, I won’t hesitate to put it into one of three books (see bottom of poem), since I consider it a good poem in itself and an observation worth the art.  Hope you agree.


       She Dry, He Soft


She dry, he soft.

They hold aloft romance and passion.

Does not passion pass on?

And what stance does romance take

When body fails?  Does one fake?

The keys are there in every action:

Every whispered word, touch, clutch.

Intensity may modify.  

Who needs to reach the sky each twinkling of an eye?

Friendship’s warmth and harmony

Lie at the heart of passion’s key,

And if they go, so will the rest.

At best, what’s left but superficiality –

A shell – and crusty one at that,

Destined in the upshot to fall flat.

She dry, he soft, not often reaching Everest,

Yet sex, oh yes, the very best,

Back and forth in all its warmth.


In giving.

She Was Dry, He Was Soft 7.1.2018 Circling Round Aging; Eros Ii; Love Relationships II;



Tell Me What Your Life Is Like

This, to all the friends I have who have children or who, in a broader sense are interested in beings, human and otherwise.

* I was thinking about my son and daughter – how little I know about them and their interior life. I thought about asking them sometime, then all the ramifications stepped in and my thoughts broadened, widened, became more inclusive. Hence, the poem.
         Tell Me What Your Life Is Like
Tell me what your life is like:
I’m serious.
I do so want to see
The commonalities, universalities
And differences.
Do they dissolve, resolve
One into t’other?
Are we sister, are we brother?
I suspect we are,
Observing daily layers that lie under.
So for me, the likes of me to bind this wonder.
Tell me what your likes are life:
Your tastes your talents,
Weaknesses, which out of balance
Throw you off.
Softening the lines that pull us sunder
Is the key, I think.
World’s great thinkers think so too;
Blurring lines ‘tween me and you
Necessity. Pink
Black, brown, yellow,
Every creature a good fellow.
Ant, snake, spider, ape included;
Whale, fish, cows and pigs un-fooded.
Well, there’s not much more to say.
So if you chance to pass my way
Tell me what your life is like.
I’d like that.
Tell Me What your Life Is Like 3.15.2018 Love Relationships II; Circling Round Egos; Arlene Corwin


The Great Lover

         The Great Lover

The great lover:

Quiet, yet beneath a furnace;

Passion without fuss.

The greatest plus!

How can one explain it?

Concentrated, in the moment,

Expectations nil, from self or other;

Blend of lover and of brother.

How can one describe it?

Mind not pushing, body rushing,

Or conversely,

Mind not rushing, body pushing.

Blend of observation and involvement;

Participation all the way,

One might say, creation;

Jazz improvisation, for,

What happens happens.

This great lover is creative,

Not dependent on a pattern,

Yet there is one –

Never monochrome but comfortable like home.

Reader, do you follow?

Do I reach you?

I’m not boasting out of vanity,

But out of joy.  Oh boy!

I’ve got him.

 The Great Lover 1.27.2018 Love Relationships II; Circling Round Eros II; Arlene Corwin


The Making Of Perfect Love

     The Making Of Perfect Love

The sex is simple.

Though there’s pattern, never boring.

Feeling new, e’en better every time.

How can that be?

The years have passed the ‘sell by’ date,

And one knows couples who

Are either bored to death or hate

The touch, approach,

Who douche

Just to escape the loathing

(even some who wear their clothing

into bed).


But with us, we focus.

Simple, the affection real,

Start so gradual

It’s hardly recognizable as such.

As for the finish,

Since there never was a start,

It sometimes has no end,

Just petering from aged tiredness

With never a dissatisfaction,

Life and day continuing

In the most natural of ways.


The Making of Perfect Love 5.9.2017

Circling Round Eros II; Pure Nakedness, Circling Round Aging; Love Relationships II;

Arlene Corwin

Happy Birthday, Daddy Dear

   Happy Birthday, Daddy Dear

Happy birthday once again,

Daddy dear. April fifteen,

And you’re not here to share it

For you died so many years ago.

(the year before we reached two thousand).

But the fifteenth rolls around

And somehow sounds a chord inside me.

This year happens to be

Pesach, Easter;

Easy to remind myself.

You would have been one hundred nine –

Not unattainable

As age today.

But still you went celestially.

I hope you’re happy

As I wish you happy birthday anyway.

So with a happy memory,

I’ll say happy goodbye

And start

A hopeful, happy day.


Happy Birthday, Daddy Dear 4.15.2017

Birthday Book; Love Relationships II;

Arlene Corwin

Alice Is In Wonderland

   Alice Is In Wonderland

Alice got sick.

A dulling fur – a cancer here and there.

Don’t know how, don’t know why,

(We never know how, why we’ll die).

Bad and sad for doggies

And for those who hold them dear.

The vet urged she be put to sleep –

It had gone far.

It went in seconds. Not a peep

From Alice, just one beat, a bleep

And she was gone;

A little soul taken in hand

By doggy heaven land, a wondrous land.

Alice is in Wonderland.


Alice Is In Wonderland 3.24.2017

Birth, Death & In Between II; Love Relationships II;

Arlene Corwin

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