Contributor Posts

Noise in the street
Snow plow on the move
Finally

The frog hid, beneath the lily pad.
Staying out of sight of a stalking bird.
He remained quiet, as he should
For a Blue Heron was in the pond,
wading, watching and moving along.
Rippling the water, to see frog or fish,
Finding food, it's fondest wish.
It needed food to survive this day
To remain a beautiful, prehistoric,
Bird of Prey.

I hurt and ache
for goodness sake.
Flu shot had,
was good to do,
not so the flu.
Get lots of sleep
and liquids too.
It's best if
that's what you do.

Why must the sky be blue,
When blue is such a sad color?
When I think of you
My soul turns blue,
But when I see your face
Or hear your voice,
I may then rejoice
And feel another color.
Yellow is nice; warm and mellow,
But may not attract a fellow.
So, get yourself back down
For your eyes of brown.
If your face turns red
From embarrassment
Or things you've said.
It's kind of nuts
To think of ruts,
That is, in words,
Stuck in our head.

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.