Magazine Posts

A Dragon, lies beneath the trees.
Hidden now, within the dry leaves.
If you listen carefully
you may hear him sneeze.
Waiting for evenings night fall.
He learned how? I don't recall.
Being the last of his kind,
he hides so you can not find,
where he is surviving the day,
or he may flee and fly away.

Do you
croon a tune,
in the month
of June?
For me
I went on
my honeymoon.
A simple line,
a single prayer,
is what I like
with no despair
involved in
this long life
of mine,
where souls of men
become entwined
to solve the ills
of this World
and make peace.

Rain around me.
North and South.
No rain here,
least not now
but soon enough,
rain will abound,
beating at windows;
A rattling sound
of gutters full
and run off too,
as I await
to see you.

POTUS Trump
The only one I know
who could mess up
a one car funeral.

Where go you now,
my youngest of friends.
Do you seek redemption
when persecution ends?
Why do we treat people so?
What will happen now
to those unlike thee?
Do we help them? How?
Or must they all flee,
away from this place,
with hook and ladder
for you my friends
Black lives matter.

It was back before then,
as one was want to say.
It was there it began,
the refrain of a sad day.
A day that will dwell
in all annals of time.

"The annals of time?"
she said with a smirk
"Are you some kind
of a literary jerk?"

The event that happened,
"Can you not even see,
will live on forever,
on this day of infamy.

A whisper came from lips, ice cold.
Help me Father, for I must go,
to search this broad land
for my pot of gold;
To bring forth riches
first found by thee.
The richness of freedom
to pray on my knee.

The early sunlight,
wafts through the leaves
of the large Maple tree.
The Wind is blowing,
that is clear to me
as the Garden Spinners
spin merrily.
A rabbit comes by
for an early morning snack.
"Leave my flowers alone,"
I now say to he,
for when you eat them,
there'll be no flowers to see.

Why do I feel this dismay?
After close friends have gone away?
The loss of a friend, is hard to hear,
hadn't seen him for at least a year
and now I never will. I fear
in my mind; maybe I am next.
Who knows now? That's my pretext.

When does it end and go away?
When will we have a new day?
It will never be the way it was.
Why is that? It is just because.
Stores will be gone; we will too,
For all of the things we used to do,
Are now gone, or will be,
For we need workers for our Economy.
We must pray now! With God at our side,
To heal this Nation's Racial Divide.

So many years have gone by when this incident occurred, I
almost forgot.
Our boys were young and wanted to fish. I wanted a boat to fish from.
I purchased a Ted Williams, 14 foot, aluminum row boat and pair of oars, from Sears Roebuck.
I was employed there and got a nice discount. A friend told me I should have
a motor. Coincidentally he had a Vintage, 1947, 5 HP Johnson 2 cycle, water
cooled motor. He told me that it needed a "quill shaft" and I had that
work done in West Seattle.
I waited until after school was out so our Sons and I
could have a few days off to fish.
I drove over to the Potholes. Don't remember the name
of the lake. I put the boat in the water, loaded the boys
and fishing gear with life jacket. I started the motor
and we were underway, as they say in the Navy.
We reached our destination and began to fish. Our luck
hadn't been good and was soon to continue the same.
We decided to return to camp so I attempted to try
to start the motor. No such luck. I grabbed the oars and
slowly began the long row back to our camp. I am sure
it wasn't that far as my memory of that time is
clouded. We packed up and went home as there was
a weather front coming in.
When I returned to work, the following Monday,
I saw my friend and told him my story. He looked at
me, laughed and said, " a 1947 5 HP Johnson, requires
you to loosen the cap on the gas tank. If you don't it will
lock up and it won't start." I don't recall using the boat
with the motor again.
I sold the boat to a friend that lived on
Lake Sammamish. If anyone is interested
in a Vintage, 1947 5 HP Johnson, outboard motor,
let me know as it is still in our garage, complete with
a quill shaft. My wife would love to have me move
it from the garage although it is in a place she never
ventures. Good boating; Good fishing.

A new lesson in writing,
about the words in my mind,
concerning a man who is unkind.
His weakness, is easy to see
for his spine is of jelly.
I do not understand He;
Start up the Economy,
do it right now,
caring not about protocol,
or if his idea was sound.
He wants a second term,
That is his vow.
Not happening here,
we must disavow,
as the virus moves closer
toward the fate of this land
and the continuing disaster
of not having a Plan.