
SENTIMENTAL SATURDAY Click on the Stanyan logo to subscribe to the McKuen Mailing List		Photo by Dan Chapman ©2001 Stanyan Entertainment Group A Thought for Today Love life as you go through it. On this day in 1999 I wrote: It's finally here. The longest day of the year and the shortest night. And for our friends beneath The Southern Sun, just the opposite. Whatever the summer holds for each of us, it's almost always something unexpected. Good luck. SUMMER SEQUENCE The river cuts a gully every bit as deep within the mind as the one it opens in the earth. Set your troubles by; let the water carry them and you to that wide, friendly sea beyond imagination. But all is not imagined. The sun is real and everywhere. Trials become truth. Goals turn round and round until they spin into achievements. And love? The firm, brown body running down the beach - then gone. The soft, warm cheek that only angels dare bend to touch. The round moon belly of a woman carrying the future just inside her skin. The people old in years who commandeer a park bench, and beyond them the lovers - always the lovers discovering frontiers of gold. -from "Rod McKuen's Book of Days," 1981. See you tomorrow with Some of the Best. Sleep warm. - RM 4/20/99 With new material. Two new appearance dates just announced! Booking for "An Evening with Rod McKuen" at the Riverton Rendezvous is open! Click below for more details: Concert & Appearance Details



		Jean Anouilh o Larry Blyden o Bryan Brown o June Carter Cash o Bert Convy o Edward VIII, King of England o Adam Faith o Bob Fosse o Johannes Gutenberg o Mieczyslaw Horszowsky o Empress Josephine o James Levine o Alfred Kinsey o Frances McDormand o Nigel Osborne o Wilma Rudolph o Ted Schackelford o Diana Trask o Alan Turing o Duke of Windsor o Billie Worth o Irene Worth

		Be careful how you act up. Each day acted out and done is gone forever. The planets keep exact time in their revolutions, why can’t we keep appointments? The patron of the arts is patience.

A LOVE LETTER UNSENT VI		You fell asleep some time ago. I’m not sure when because I dozed a bit myself and now your head is heavy on my chest while your hands are clasped prayer-like down between my legs. The sweet sweat of contentment is everywhere. The last words you said as you were drifting off were “I love you.” You never forget to say it, in my ear or on the telephone just before the disconnect. How can I not love you while you go on reminding me of how you care? I am not too old to be spoiled and I feel as though I’ve never been this wanted, needed, ever. Ah, to be necessary to some necessary one. It is as if the weight of all the years has been carried off or never was. To after all this time discover, come upon the reason, the because for living. And oh, the motive to live on and on, the grounds for taking all the roads ahead as far as they will go. Could I, can I love you more? Oh yes I can. I never had this much capacity for caring any time before. Prior to loving you I loved and never dreamed I was rehearsing for the main event. I make no apologies for lovers had or wanted. Look where loving led me. Look at where it leads us now. In front lies everything. Watch us tear through earth and heaven up ahead. We’ll cough out every devil that would bedevil us and spit up all hells that try to come between us. I love you. The invincibility of that phrase when it comes out of truth is such a marvel. I love you. I love saying it to you and need not ever dote to hear it back. A summer apart? Perhaps. But in my thoughts a lap away or less. June 22, 2001 Midnight / First publication 6/23/01