The name of this painting is Love. It is a retirement present for my cousin.
They were delighted with the way it turned out, and so am I. They are a beautiful couple and I enjoyed painting them. I worked from several photos which I took both at the retirement party and later at my home.

Love, 16”x20” oil painting

Poem: Hiding the Hyde

   Hiding the Hyde

by June Nash


through this life I slide

by hiding the Hyde

that’s my ugly side


Only beauty see

Your the one for me

Your my remedy


I do not reveal

the me that is real

that is how I deal


I know the true you

By the things you do

From my point of view


this face isn’t mine

on a mask you dine

on my own I’m fine


Perfection not seek

Just allow me a peek

Won’t think you a freak


when I lower veil

let you cast your spell

your scorn would be hell


I will see your mind

A heart that is kind

To your faults be blind


but you don’t know me

of what you could see

so go away I plea


Together we’ll slide

My Jekyll, your Hyde

You’re my other side


This poem was inspired by the book Player One, written by Ernest Cline.  My book club is currently reading this book.  I’m half way through, so I don’t know how it all ends.

 The characters meet online as avatars.  They only know each other as the characters they created.  

But isn’t that true of life?  All we really know about each other is what we are willing to reveal.

Poem: Love’s Call

Love’s Call

by June Nash


He called, enthralled, cannot wait

Looking forward to the date

Unaware of tomorrow

And broken plans to follow


Dreams of love in blissful sleep

Unknowing what day will reap

Clock ticking, seems well oiled

Sweet clicking, ‘til plans foiled


Hopes of caressing love’s face

Squashed by unkind frenzied pace

No hug, no touch, just a call

Salty tear drop starts to fall

Poem about Being Stood Up Again

Self Portrait
Digital Self Portrait, using SketchBookExpress

Being Stood Up Again

He said he’d come, be there by two.

Did not show, now what should she do?

Maybe he is just running late.

If so, perhaps, she needs to wait.


Sent him a text, then made a call.

No response, no answer at all.

Left a message, one not so nice

Happened before, this makes it thrice.


Treated like this, it’s an insult.

Poor relationship is result.

Never again will have a chance,

To stand her up, that is her stance.


She loves him still, wishes he’d call.

Sad to see how far they can fall.

To be in his life can’t refuse.

It is her son causing the blues.

June Nash

Poem about Loss: Soft Monkey

Self Portrait
Digital Self Portrait, using SketchBookExpress

Soft Monkey

Baboon knocking upon door.

Don’t want him ‘round any more!

Rascal peeking through window.

Sees me anxious, he must know.

Hard time coping, want him near.

Need the comfort he brings here.


With apathy, cast off bane.

He brings relief, yet causes pain.

Maybe could find a new pet.

Mere substitutes so far met.

Others enjoy fox or mink.

Soft monkey fur fits my kink.

Time for leaving, head’s abuzz.

Reminders of what once was.

Cannot forget when he’s near.

Time for leaving, good bye dear.

I’ll be hurting, missing link.

Soft monkey fur fits my kink.

June Nash

I wrote this about my soft addiction.  A soft addiction could be any thing from playing too many computer games, to relationships with people that are not working out.  Either way, you are torn between needing them, and the realization that they are bad for you.

The weekly writing challenge, on WordPress, challenges blog writers to write on a weekly topic.  This poem was originally scheduled for Saturday morning.  I am moving today’s post to Saturday so I can submit this poem, today, to the challenge.  Wish me luck!