Magazine Posts

This weather that we have had today,
Reminded me of a time, far away.
I drove a school bus, picking up students,
On this occasion, a windy wintery day.
Heading to town, on the Vantage Highway,
I had just picked up a child,
When things started to get quite wild.
My flashers were on: I looked in the mirror,
A convoy truck, jackknifed was drawing near.
I yelled at the kids, to hold on tight,
Hit the gas and turned to my right.
I was partially off the road then
When I felt a hit in the back end.
I stopped the bus; asking if anyone was hurt,
Then opened the door and stepped onto the dirt.
The convoy driver wanted me to sign a release
As he had been in some wrecks before.
I said No, just give me your name.
A parent had called WSP and they came.
The Bus's radiator that was broke,
So we couldn't drive, and that was no joke,
We had another bus coming and to pick
Up the students and take them to school,
Where they could relate the morning as cool.

Mounds of snow
Sparkling bright
Snow blindness

We were told to be good, behave
And from this life, our Souls to save.
The hardness of our life, I see
Is full of fear of life's reality.
Remember that a person, should not deride
The feelings that others, have trapped inside.
We all have our life to live,
No matter what, we have time to give
And support family and friends, I know
That we must do that to save our Soul.

Snap and crack
Down came a branch
On the street

In the Navy, sometime , long ago,
my shipmate had a car, that ran.
A Hudson Hornet, was my recall.
Can't remember the year or exactly when,
Driving to Washington State from San Diego.
We drove up a two lane road,
No street lights or buildings were about,
When suddenly the headlights went out.
There was no moonlight, to help us see,
So we applied the brakes very readily.
One thing of note, when you can't see,
You think you have stopped but no,
The car was still moving, on the go.
Such a surprise when you open the
Door to get out and you were still
Moving. Yikes, we stopped and left the car.
We found the fuse box and replaced the fuse
And the lights came back on so we continued
Our journey, not stopping to sleep but
We were taking No Doze, pills to stay awake.
Not the smartest thing to do as objects
Would appear to have an aura or halo about them.
We managed to drive through to Ellensburg where my
Friend then returned to his home in Grandview.
We were only there over the weekend and
He was going to pick me up for our ride,
Back to San Diego.

To be continued.

How long has it been,
Since our last meeting?
Has it been years or decades?
When did the great longing,
Crumble and go away?
I know not what I remember,
Except you were a joy to me.
Your removable top
The exposure to the Sun,
The roar of the wind in my ears.
The whipping and snapping
Of my long hair.
Your color, as I recall was French Blue,
A Fiat 124 Spyder, that was you.

Snow storm coming
Empty shelving abound
Cash registers full

Crunching of ice
Unplowed city streets
Noisy passing.

Your strength is amazing,
My dearest of friends.
Your positive statements
And encouraging ways,
Provide me with comfort
And that I contend,
Is the great strength,
You've provided to me
Will last for an eternity.
My love to you JoAnn

Windy blowing snow
Drifting over the Daffodils
Tranquil serenity

I have been here for quite awhile
And I always did, like to smile,
Seeing all the grey squirrels at play.
I would feed them every day,
Unsalted peanuts, in the shell,
Not realizing the landscaping hell,
That awaited me on the ground.

Discarded peanut shells did abound,
All over the garden and planting space.
The very puzzled look on my face,
When finding what I had begot,
As peanut shells aren't inclined to rot.
I still wanted some peanuts to feed,
So I pulled nuts from the bird seed.
They were in the garage in a bag,
And I passed by noticing a sag.
I knew that something was nigh,
The hole in the bag, had caught my eye.
I fixed that problem by buying a bin
Of plastic, to keep the bird food in.
It wasn't too long, for notice I did,
That a squirrel had chewed on the lid.
Clever creatures they are, my thought to begin
So I purchased a small container, made of tin.
I no longer provide nuts, you see
And the squirrels no longer visit with me.

After the great World War, WW II
My Dad bought a tavern
On 45th Ave, close to the U.
The name I recall, from the past
Was the Looking Glass.
A small little place
For as you walked in the door,
The bar was on the left
And booths on the right.
It wasn't unusual
For the Veterans to fight.
I would go with my Dad
After church, on Sunday morn
And sit at the bar
As Dad worked. I drank a coke
And could smell the sour spilled beer.
Vivid memories, do my mind clog,
I ate a pickled Polish Dog.
Years have passed
And the Tavern is still there,
With a different name.
Stopped in one time on our way
From a Soccer match at Lower Woodland.
Same place, Walk in the door
Bar on the left and booths on the right.
Had a small beer, but skipped the dog
A great memory for that night.