My mind is slow
Like an antique clock.
All I have now
Is Tick, no Tock.
What do I do
With my writer's block?
When my mind Ticks
But does not Tock?
Retired for many years and now re-discovering some writings, from long ago, along with new endeavor to help save my soul.
Recent Posts on Kudos 365
My mind is slow
I'll not write of snakes or fleas,
As I prefer the birds and bees.
Nature provides all with many a thing,
Some with beauty and some that sing.
The color we see, in the morning light,
That disappears in the darkest night,
As life goes on, a single item.
It's a great World, ad infinitum.
A miniature Rose bush, was I,
With buds to open and please the eye.
When my flowers were no longer there,
I was planted outside with little flair,
To survive the Winter weather's cold.
Little attention was paid, I am told,
About the pruning of plants, not chose.
Now here I am; A blooming Rose.
The days draw short
Years move along
Much like a song,
A very sad song
Of life's short time.
Memories that fade
And are gone, sublime
Is the mood,
That I see.
Please dear God,
Please help me.
Are you real?
Can you see
That my love,
Will always be
Meant for you
But not for me,
or my life
East of Ellensburg in Kittitas County
Is an irrigation facility; The Whipple
Creek Pumping Plant exists
To pump water up the hill
As part of theCounty's Irrigation District's
Management of the Highline canal,
Which begins in Lake Easton,
As I recall and is one of the main sources
Of water to irrigate the County farmland.
My grandfather, on my mother's side,
Managed that facility. When I was young
My two cousins and I would spend
Summers there. We could play,
Go fishing or swim below the pumping
Plant. Inside the Plant were huge
Pumps, that propelled the water, up the
Hillside, through huge pipes. It was quite
The project, in it's time.
Our grandfather would also, ride the ditch
Banks for inspection and remove animals
That fell in. I remember, on one trip,
My grandfather pointed out some
Pronghorn Antelope in the Sage brush,
Distance. This was back in the late 40's.
The land East of the Pumping Plant
Is now fenced off and his part of the
Yakima Firing Center.
My cousins and I would go hiking
There before the fence was erected.
We looked for petrified wood fragments.
On several occasions we would find small
logs or branches, 12 inches long. We would
retrieve and take them back to the main house.
The logs may still be there. I hope they are.