November 21, 2009 – 11:40 am
When winter’s gray has spent it’s day
And sun’s warm rays chased snow away
When flowering plants bloom and sway
A lively breeze fills the air
Spring has come dispelling despair
On to the meadow unhurried I stroll
In the season of new birth, spot a wild foal
The wonders of nature I quickly extol
Sprawled on fresh grass, I glint at blue sky
All troubles vanish in the wake of a sigh
I reach for a flower, bend for it’s scent
A fragrance so sweet from heaven sent
Closing my eyes I breathe my content
The bug on my hand can cause no grief
Gently It’s moved to the flower’s leaf
I stay for an hour, sometimes two
At this perfect setting for peace to pursue
Where life’s agonies never fail to subdue
It’s springtime in the meadow so then
Tomorrow’s always the day I’ll be back again
Tweet This Post
November 20, 2009 – 8:43 am
Sally, gaining weight of late, decided to make a stew,
determined to omit calories as dieting people do.
First she chopped some zilch and tossed it in the pot,
added an ounce of nada she knew would hit the spot.
Now a dash of zero, now half a stick of naught,
then fresh homemade nix, not the store bought.
Sally’s just loaded with secret little tricks,
to add a bit of flavor to her special no cal mix.
“Don’t forget nothing”, chimed her ragdoll cat.
Sally just ignored him, knowing cats can’t chat.
Her mental state has never been so grim
as to think a cat can talk, even on a whim.
“Don’t forget nothing”, the cat mewed a second time.
This time it floored her, stopped her on a dime.
Though it was far beyond comprehension,
she was now proud of cat’s unique dimension.
But appalled at his grammar, she bent down to descend
“You mean ‘Don’t forget anything’, right feline friend?”
“No, don’t forget nothing” the cat quipped from his mat.
Nothing was added to the stew and that’s the end of that.
Tweet This Post
November 20, 2009 – 8:39 am
Bracing against freezing winds,
I slipped ice-encrusted goggles to
my forehead and peered, thunderstruck,
at thousands of blindingly-white
sharply-angled feet stretching out
below ours, down to the valley floor.
After minutes – was it an hour? – watery
eyes glanced sideways at my friend Don,
both of us grinning like six year olds
blowing out candles on a birthday cake.
Our fourth attempt. Our first conquest.
Shivering, my steamy breath formulated
a question I could answer, “Just how high
is Mt. Hood, Don?” Without hesitation,
Don rolled a cloud of steam back, “Eleven
thousand, two hundred thirty-seven feet,
eight and three-quarter inches.”
We laughed and laughed, me wondering all
the while if the extra inches were true.
Tweet This Post
November 17, 2009 – 10:43 am
Just another day at Al’s saloon, Kitty Hawk’s social
hotspot, and, as usual, Al was in control of the
conversation. “Those two Ohio boys are just plain crazy”
he crowed, “You can’t change the laws of nature, can’t
change the laws of God”. As usual, he was met with cries of
“Hear, Hear” as the regulars raised their beers.
It was December 17, 1903, and the boys from Ohio weren’t
listening, in favor of spending time at the beach with
the flying machine they optimistically named “The Flyer”.
Turning the self-made propeller on the self-built engine,
the machine coughed, sputtered, then bellowed, ready now
for a third attempt to imitate a bird, to shed it’s bondage
to the earth.
Wilbur Wright at the controls, it lifted into the air,
bouncing up and down to a height of 10 feet before kicking up
sand some 12 seconds later and 120 feet distant. When news
reached his saloon, Al softened a bit, saying he was glad
the boy’s folly had given them a little fun, but nothing more
will ever come of it. “Hear, Hear” came the chorus, holding out
glasses as Al circled the room pouring another round.
Tweet This Post
November 17, 2009 – 10:40 am
Dear Mother Earth of troubles abundant,
so many they’re now redundant.
It’s time your people had better learn,
spread awareness, spread concern.
Dear Mother Earth with rising fever,
you’re much too warm, I’m a believer.
Ignoring you is an aberration,
as is conquest and control.
Your good health need be our goal,
by partnership not domination.
Dear Mother Earth of man’s pollution,
your air and water beg for solution.
Acid rain and smog spell danger,
We better wake up, become a changer.
Dear Mother Earth of overpopulation,
too many dwellers leads to devastation,
best we slow our rate of birth.
Our relationship is near disaster,
we must take action, take it faster,
restore your health for all life’s worth.
Tweet This Post
BlogoSquare