Magazine Posts

I am just a wee, little mouse,
Living outside, not in your house,
But if, I can get into your place,
I'll explore, all over, leaving a trace
Of my droppings, that let you see,
That visitor you had. Well that was me.

Give me the sliders, hold the bun.
Is this what my life has become/

A new flower
at least it's new to me
blooms almost instantly

www.facebook.com/Felipe-Garcia-Photography-305960763125809/

Planted new bulbs,
Spring of this year.
Now they began,
In July to appear.
A beautiful flower,
Perennial in fact,
Blooms like this;
A wonderful act.
Enjoy.

Last day of July
Not here, not any more
Zinnias are in bloom.

I sit on a lily pad,
looking at the blue sky,
watching for shadows,
that catch my eye.
If I see a shadow or movement,
then into the water,
I'll jump, again.
I am a Bullfrog;
proud as can be,
for I'll sing my song
and I will sing it for free.
The sound of my voice,
along with my Frog friends,
bring a rapturous melody
so I can pretend,
that if kissed by a Princess,
my Frog life will end.
Are you a Princess, I ask thee?
If you are, please oh please,
just kiss me.

I have noticed a change of late.
Of frustration that has now appeared;
An element of fear, mixed with hate,
For this unforgiving disease.
As I see this change, I can't relate
To what is going on inside her head,
That makes her say, "I wish I were dead."
All I can do, all I can say,
Please my love, don't go away.

My love is with me, here, today.
By tomorrow, she'll have gone away.
The mind is a most curious thing,
Today, knowledge; tomorrow nothing to bring.

I'm in San Diego, as I do remember.
The time of the year? Mid December.
Walking down Broadway, in Civilian clothes,
My first Christmas season, spent not at home,
for here, at 20 of age, I was alone.
There were other people here, just like me,
in the U. S. Navy, serving our Country.
Broadway Ave, was the street I walked down,
when I ran into a friend, from my hometown.
What a surprise for me to see,
a friendly face. who was alone, like me.