Magazine Posts

A Pox on thee
oh dreadful one.
May you find
what you forsook.
Why not try
reading a book?

Wherever I wander
wherever I roam,
there is nothing like
my home sweet home.

A dream,
A vision,
A picture of you.
My heart
will race,
with joy,
Recalling my
memories anew.
Days will go
You will see,
Beautiful thoughts
Are coming
About thee.

A symbol I see
away in the dark
of a bird that flutters.
A beautiful Lark.
The Lark with a
full sounding voice,
can make this old man's
mind still rejoice.

When the things we know
become so mundane.
When we peer from the window
at the Winter rain.
The coolness, is there
but there is no freeze.
Perhaps it is now.
Where is the breeze.
The bulbs of flowers, everywhere
are poking through the ground, so bare.
There will soon be a new display
of colors to view on the new day.

For all of the World
a life is to live,
unfortunately not yours
but it's a life to give.

A narrow ditch, perhaps three feet wide,
meanders; through a Rancher's field.
I'm not sure how deep it was
or how fast the water moved.
I remember, years ago, fishing
in this ditch, just a few times each year.
I never told anyone about the location,
until years later.
Generally a fisherman is reluctant to share
fishing locations, not even with close friends.
I was that way. I would tell those that asked
a general location, omitting much detail.
I would catch 3 or 4 Brook Trout,
10 to 14 inches long, fat from the rich
food supply of the irrigation ditch.
A great memory for me.

Far below in a canyon of dreams
filled with the shine of wandering streams.
The steeping hills covered with trees
being swept by a steady breeze.
Off in the distance, across the deep aisle
a Crow and Hawk began to beguile.
Soaring up to the heavens above,
the blue of the sky brought us love
and the grandeur of nature's far away
viewing the colors on a beautiful day.

It had purple skin,
with eight green eyes.
A red nose, not blinking
was a big surprise.
The pigeon toed gait
as it walked down the road,
with a lumpy body, like a toad.

Playing soccer, in an Over 40 League,
was fun for me and good exercise.
Playing, as a defender, at that time,
I was told, I was good in the air. Or in
layman terms, heading the ball.
High balls were mine.
The ball was passed by an opposing player,
to a space ahead of me. I jumped
to use my head to move the ball out of reach
of the opposing player.
A collision with a teammate's head, happened,
at my eyebrow.
I stood there, dazed, confused and wondered
how come there was blood dripping down my
nose to the ground.
I walked off the field and a teammate took
me across the street to the Steele Lake,
Fire Station, where a EMT put a bandage on
my eye brow. I finished playing the game,
as we were playing shorthanded, with less than
eleven player. I made sure that I did not do
any more head balls.
I was riding with a friend and I dropped him off
at his place and then proceeded to the ER,
at Evergreen Medical Center.
The staff handled me in their usual fine fashion and
after 7 stitches, inside the cut and 8 stitches outside,
I was sent home.
I enjoyed playing soccer and did so until I was in my 50's.

Her eyes reflected the blue of the sky.
Her hair was silken; you could see why.
Why does your skin have that beautiful shine?
When will you say you will be mine?
Your answer, I'm sure will not come soon,
As I was staring at the silvery Moon.
The Moon was my love; it was every night,
Until the Sun rose ending my sight
Of the loveliest orb in the evening sky.
Where are you going? Please tell me why,
When the Sun comes arising
And you say Goodbye.

There are times when you cant see,
who in the World, is your enemy.
Don't sit there, so quietly
when all you may know
is your "why?" was a once
and off she would go.
Words that I say,
mean nothing more
for the word "Once"
was most certainly a "We".
This gibberish, I write,
as I have written now,
are words out of order,
something I cannot allow.
My mind is now broken,
my sight is now dim,
for I call to the heavens,
please rid us of him.