The weather is cool, but the peonies are going to come out in all their glory and bloom in honor of June.
I am waiting for a package to come in the mail. Guess what is in this goodie gift? The big girl swimsuit! First the poem I wrote while mulling over swim suit angst:
Swimsuit season shakes my happy
content state, turning it into an ocean of dismay.
Ducking into the dressing room,
I suspect hidden cameras and amused guffaws.
Evil all-seeing mirrors vote against me.
Clammy white epidermis quivers in fear.
Give me a very large fig leaf
to cover my round thighs and the dough
found right in front.
The quirking of my apologizing countenance
desperately attempts to move your gaze
from embarrassing more than was previously
exposed to an overcompensating smile on top
given because I am too much and not enough.
I perch on a crowded pool deck,
positioning my arms and legs just so.
A chubby grandmother in a big skirted
sunbeam stops, looks me softly in the face
and sings, “Isn’t life grand?”
Life is grand.
Here are two of my very favorite fish. Happy swimming, friends!