Contributor Posts

I recall when I learned to ski.
Went and bought equipment for me.
Boots, bindings, skis and pole
And sweaters, ski pants, you could see.
I looked the part, of a skier, of course,
But needed lessons to assure me
That I didn't break a leg or hit a tree.
Down the hill I went for a spin
Not realizing the trouble I was in.
Snowplow, she said over and over to me.
A basic move to do on that day,
To slow my descent down the hill.
I tried my best in my own way.
The following weeks, I learned to adore
The snow and the slope, like never before.
Making cutting turns, became a breeze,
When I did the right thing with my knees.
My Son skied with me; remember I can't;
Until I hit a bump and did a head plant.
My days of skiing are now years past,
But the memories hang on and will last,
To the end of my days, please let it be,
While I remember the first day I did ski.

Perhaps it's the boy, in this old man,
That plays in dirt when ever he can.
By playing, I mean, out in the yard,
Where a love of gardening, is not hard,
But a desire to see plants to keep growing.
No matter the fact that it soon will be snowing,
I found that I do not like a Fall chore
Of raking leaves, waiting, then raking some more.

Look out! Look Out!,
They yelled at me,
But it was too late
As I hit a tree.
I had bark and
Needles all over me.
Darn, I wish now
I had seen that tree.
When I finally awoke
And I could see,
My leg was broke.
That darn tree.

Sometimes my head is so full of noise,
I say a short prayer trying to keep my poise.
Thoughts that are so varied; Hard to handle,
like I am trying to burn both ends of the candle.
Lord please, your help; I need some more,
For now it is almost a quarter to four.
Don't be nervous and don't you worry,
The words keep coming so fast I must scurry.
Finish the line on this last written page,
Before you expire from extreme old age.

Would you love me, if you could,
Although my heart and head
Are made of wood?
My arm a kindle of movement about,
If they hit your head you will shout.
A parental voice will then say,
"Put that doll in a box, do not play
With it anymore or any less."
Is it a reason? It can't be a guess.
Toys are wonderful to see
As they can bring joy to thee.

Over the hill,
down your way,
the little mice
have started to play.
Running on tiny feet,
Scurrying about
for something to eat.
Be careful, look up above
or an Owl
will grab your love.
Coyotes also are
not your friend.
Get too close,
that is the end!
Be safe when you play,
so you can return
for another play day.

One quick Pony, will do the trick,
If it keeps you happy and doesn't lick
The back of your head, with it's tongue.
Why do they do that when they are young?

The kitten played and he tugged
With the yarn ball on the rug.
He batted it with a tiny paw,
Snipping and biting with his small jaw.
A string was exciting, he started to prance,
In doing so it was much like a dance.
Tiring, after he played, he'd go to my lap
To fall asleep, short like a nap.
The joy that this kitten, did bring
To my life, was a wonderful thing.
Thanks be to God for this happiness,
In this World that is in such a mess.
Be good to each other, is now my plea,
So you enjoy your life, like kitty and me.

Late last Summer; some barren ground,
Tempted me to spread or lay down,
A mixture of old Perennial seed.
The seed did grow, without a weed
And flowers with a very strong stalk,
By the edge of our City sidewalk.
Daisies, Bachelor Buttons and mystery flowers
Grew and grew through day light hours.
Blues, Whites, Golds one could see
And a sense of good, was mine to be.
This year, the flowers, some new to me,
With the arrival of a Orange Blackseed Poppy.
I can hardly wait to see the surprise,
When that corner of flowers do arrive.

It's now 4 AM in the morning.
I am starting to fade.
I have been up for hours,
Avoiding sleep, my tirade.
I need to quit writing, and creep
Into my bed and go back to sleep.

Would you still know me
If you saw me again?
For my hair is now white
And whiskers cover my chin.

Was it a dream
Or just an illusion.
I am uncertain,
Without any doubt.
I looked in a mirror;
What did I see?
A small Chimpanzee,
Looking at me.
It smiled,
While scratching it's head
And was wearing a hat,
A bright shade of red.
What do you want?
What can it mean,
When you see a Chimp,
In your mirror scene?
I don't know,
What's in my mind.
It's an animal,
So don't be unkind.
Then, in a hurry,
It was gone,
So don't you worry.
Will it return?
That I don't know,
But if it does,
We'll put on a show.