Magazine Posts

I once was young; a lovely
Shade of red.
Now that my life is spent,
My shade of red is dead.

When I was a junior, in high school,
my friends and I, thought it was cool,
to enlist, get uniforms and serve,
So we joined the Naval Reserve.
One meeting a month was all that we
had to attend, then it was off to sea,
but I was wrong, wrong as can be,
for we were going to "boot camp" not to sea.
Receiving transportation chits with no "prattle"
we caught a train, going to Seattle.
From the core of this wonderful town,
we boarded a train, Portland OR bound.
Arriving in the Rose City, very late in the day,
we transferred to the Union Pacific, going to L.A.
My grandfather was working for the N.P.
so using skill, we had a drawing room for three.
Our private room, with a couch and bed.
Why we even had our own private "head".
We arrived in L.A. and on that great day,
we boarded a train, Atchison-Topeka and Santa Fe.
We arrived in San Diego and with great luck,
the Navy was nice, so we rode in a truck.
Boot Camp was now what we were in,
to make all us young boys, into men.
But that's another story.

Not to worry,
Not to fear,
The flat earth society,
Is now back here.
We argue with Science,
For they want it this way
And will ruin the earth,
If we don't say
Stop. Stop it you must
Before this planet
Has turned to dust.

Over the green fields, flags are flying,
in honor of all who are lying
within gravesites; Veterans of wars,
who rest beneath the bright stars.
In honor of the sacrifice they
made for us to be free. Let us pray.

My heart is in my throat,
My feet on the floor.
The words in my ears,
"I can't take this anymore."
"You don't know what it's like,
Please put me away.
I can't live like this,
Put me into a home,
For the rest of my day."

This love of mine,
For most of my life,
Is shredding my soul,
As if with a knife.
Her wit was quite funny,
Not dry, like mine.
She was/is smarter than me,
Without any doubt.
This most, terrible disease
is something, one could cry about.

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

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.