Bauble

Laughter Wound ‘round me, string holiday lights,
Like boleadoras it ties me up tight
Trapped and enraptured
By you and your ape act, wiggling fingers,
Impressionist tracts
Warmth of a fleece throw with fireplace sunsets
Belly full to burst like some sweetmeat-rich regret
Throw me another bone, dad-joke-o’malley cat
You know when I groan your fair miss hit it’s target
Primed pull-cord heart strings; a grin and a wink and
I’m revved up to crack up, giddier than drinking
There’s not much left I want in my day to day
but I still feel joyful when we get to play