Magazine Posts

A campfire ablaze,
wood popping sounds,
a metal grate,
over the fire.
Cast iron skillet.
Throw in some bacon,
fry and set aside,
then some eggs,
in they go with a sizzle.
Sunny side up or
over easy, if you have
the skill. Back with the
bacon to heat again.
Out to the plate for
a nice outdoor breakfast.
Those are the memories
that pop from my head,
remembering those wonderful
day of our youth.

My Mother always told me,
"that being around young people
kept you young." Perhaps not in body
but certainly in spirit.
At this stage, in my life, almost
every friend I have is young.
My old friends are leaving,
this good place, much too fast.
Such is the nature of life.

Beneath our Rhodie
is where it grows,
the wonderful flower,
a beautiful Primrose.

Watching Bear Cubs
play in the park,
was an enjoyable event.
Funny, nimble but awkward.
Still they stumbled and
ran chasing each other
as if playing tag.
What a joy seeing
young animals that play.

Life's journey passes by.
All the memories,
all the sighs
of missing friends
and of family
who have said
their last goodbye.

It was someone else.
It wasn't me,
for I never have,
nor ever will,
accept any results
as my responsibility.

I was playing adult soccer at a
field off Delridge Way, in Seattle.
The ball came to me,
I raised my leg,
dropping my toe.
I was hit from behind,
by who? I don't know.
My leg was now up in the air,
falling to earth,
I put out my arm.
Wrong move, I meant
for I hit the ground
fracturing my wrist.
Went to the Dr the next day.
He put on a cast.
After 2 weeks
of itching,
and trying to scratch,
I removed it with a hacksaw blade.
I would wrap it with an Ace bandage,
tight as I could.
Removed it at night
so I could sleep good.

I matters not where you are today,
for at this time we should all pray.

The Owl sat motionless and gazed
from the limb of a dead tree.
Lonely, hungry and now forlorn,
nothing came easy, since he was born,
or I should say hatched
for he finally had met his match.
She swooped in; she knows this place
and next to him, got in his face.
I am the ruler of this broad hood,
make sure that is now understood.
He nodded, in an acceptable way
and thought not to leave but to stay.
There soon would be Owlets to feed;
he was a hunter filling the need.

I write for me.
That's what I do,
but I also
write for you.

If you agree
or if you don't,
a few words
will help me.

Use the comments.
They can still
be good or bad.
Give me a thrill.

I walk this road alone,
in my reverie.
Pondering what life
will be,
when you are no longer
by my side.
If that happens
we will decide,
if you stay here with me
or to deride,
my simplistic view
of life.
You are my ever
beautiful wife.

Many flowers; colorful all,
will be gone by the Fall.