Magazine Posts

Few people know that when I was young, I was a serious coin collector. From age six until 25, I collected Mercury dimes.....  Read more at View from the Bleachers 

When I was young,
I loved to tease.
Now I am old,
my chest on my knees.

Don't laugh too long,
about my plight,
look in the mirror,
for your own delight.

This may come as a shock to you - unless you have known me for five minutes or longer - but I have zero Do-It-Yourselfer skills. NADA. Zilch. I blame it on my father, because, well, he passed away 43 years ago, so he’s not here to defend himself. Read more

If I were to write
of a trip to the stars,
a planetary venture,
to Venus and Mars,

My heart would race,
as we began to lift off.
A bumpy ride, Not,
so, I'll only scoff.

A cat, a canary,
and vagabond flea,
decided to travel,
the world to see.

Boarding a ship,
sailing to be,
flea on the cat,
the canary free,

First leg complete,
as related to me,
a tropical port,
many adventures to be.

Off to the zoo,
admission was free.
Cages were sad,
a sad sight to see.

Why aren't these,
cages open to thee?
Open the cages,
let them roam free.

Using my old
rule of thumb,
finding this writing,
puzzling and dumb.

A Crow and Owl
went to school,
to learn of nature
and to clarify a rule.

Hoot, said the Owl,
when do we begin?
Caw, said the Crow,
I'm smarter, you can't win.

The Owl said, I fly,
by day but mostly night
when crows are asleep
and out of sight.

The Crow said nothing then,
but mumbled, ah shoot,
I'm letting you know,
I don't give a hoot.

Cracks in the windows,
dirt on the floor.
Hasn't been swept,
in a year or more.

Spiders in the corners,
house flies, on the sill.
Needs a good cleaning,
I suspect I will.

Not really a home,
not anymore,
it just sits vacant,
with space galore.

When left is right,
when being alone,
should right be left,
to come back home?

Dark clouds are passing,
up above, quite high.
Wishing I was a bird,
into the air I'd fly.

To soar amongst clouds,
with my dream to fly,
If I wished upon a star,
"Why oh why, can't I?"

Eating lunch, at memory care.
A bowl of Lentil soup,
while the drawstring of
my hoody is in my soup,
but not discovering until later.
Embarrassing, to say the least.

No Ode to tomorrow,
which never came,
when yesterday and today,
forgot its name.