Magazine Posts

Go to sleep, my darling.
Go to sleep once more;
All the illness will be over
and we'll be ready for more.

If it is the light of no doubt,
must we hurry and scurry about,
or look to the heaven above
with hope, courage and undying love?

Where ever I go,
what ever I see,
it will be you
in the mirror,
looking back at me.

The quiet night flows over me,
no moonlight now, nothing to see.

Off in the distance,
I heard a Cock crow,
for it is Sunday
and to worship we go.
Not to church of mine
at this situation time.
We go on line to pray
asking for forgiveness, so,
Thanks be to God
of this much I know.

Bluebells growing in clumps together
are looking good
in spite of the weather.

When I was young, so many years ago, I loved to fish. I would dig worms from the garden, put them in an empty tobacco tin, flat with lid. The tin was Prince Albert and was something you could put into your shirt pocket. No fish eggs for me for they probably were too expensive.
I used worms for bait but in the Summer when the Grasshoppers were plentiful, I would use them.
My Grandfather, managed the Whipple Creek Pumping Plant, which moved water up the hill via huge
pipes. The water came down the spill way from the Highline Canal, in an area called, "Badger Pocket."
The water not used for pumping, flowed through and went down a large ditch. Fishing was available above the Pumping Plant, just below and further down the ditch.

I would get my bait and walk to the area I wanted to fish. Casting out the offering, on a barbed hook, I would make an effort to lure the wily trout, to take a taste. If you felt a little tug, pull quick and hard on the line and set the hook. Usually a nice size fish, 10 to 12 inches long.
I wasn't always successful but the quiet, solitude and the beauty of the outdoors, was always enjoyed at a cost of nothing but our time. I miss those times and the people.

New plants, push through the soil,
because of last Fall's planting toil.

You looked at me,
in a strange way.
Your eyes flashing brown,
as if to say,
"I'll see you later
at the end of the day."

When I was a young boy, I like to read the comics in the Sunday paper, Seattle Times.
I would read those first. Even to this day, that the first thing I grab, our the Comics.
Fascinated, was I by the comic strip, Terry and the Pirates, by Milton Caniff.
Those readings when the World was at war, were read by myself, while laying on the floor.
Reading about Terry and his exploits, in Asia. One of the characters, in the strip was the
Dragon Lady. She was Asian, beautifully mysterious. Dangerous, but not truly evil. She
probably was evil but I was too naïve and young to know. It was at that time, in my young
life that I became fascinated by Asian women. Didn't know any but still the fascination.
I still have that fascination. When I see women of all Asian races, I am drawn to them, like
a moth to the flame. I can't explain that to you, nor will I try. Great memories of a child who
was fascinated by a cartoon character in a Comic Strip, at a young age. Go figure.

I'm at a loss of what to do
if I can no longer care for you.

The moonlight, seen through eyes of glass,
lighten the dark as we look past
the trying times, in this life ours
of love, fear and joyless sorrows.