There sat a small bird.
I'll call him Fred.
No chirping songs heard.
Hopping around on the deck,
Seeing something; making a peck.
Got my sack of seed,
Scattered some on wooden planks.
After awhile Fred is back,
Looking at me and my sack
Of bird feed, held in hand,
Acting like he is now
in his own promised land.
This was written using words from my lovely wife. Poetic license was used as I don't yell. It's a tragic event when a loved one has Dementia, for all.
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.
Nice poem - makes me smile. :)