Where do you turn when hope seems lost?
Several years ago, a friend of mine shared his thoughts on this topic. Jim was probably one of the happiest and kindest men I had ever met. His whole life had been dedicated to the cheerful service of others, and he was beloved by a great many as a result. Unfortunately, tragedy doesn’t seem to respect these kinds of distinctions, and struck Jim and his family rather abruptly and harshly. Several months before the exchange around which this article is based, Jim and his wife Helen had traveled to Europe for the … Read the rest
My patented and perfect cure
Is worth it's weight in gold
Composed of extracts much more pure
Than ever have been sold.
The larva from a tse-tse fly
In tincture with exotic salt
Applied just right to tired eye
Will heal a ghastly fault.
Pure essence of a tiger's blood
To strengthen timid hearts
And extract of a cobra's bile
Rebuild your weaker parts.
Fix your ills in just one dose
Or ten, or maybe more
A dose a day for just six weeks
Will heal an ulcered sore.
Taken for six hundred days
While drifting out at sea
… Read the rest
Guarded and gathered with zealous pride,
More treasured than the sultan's horde,
Kisses, caresses and hours at your side,
Priceless, treasured, craved and adored.
Warm with promise of hope and renewal,
Spring's rays touch my up-turned face,
But absent your eye the sun takes a fall,
Shining icy and cold into desolate space.
Unworthy I ponder what magic was played,
To win your companionship, love and trust,
A debtor in truth for a future now saved,
You give purpose to rise from the dust.
It's not about precision
Or doing it correctly
Efficiency would call it waste
When done this indirectly
The final product may be flawed
And lack a finer finish
The craftsmanship could use some work
Have defects or a blemish
It could be done much quicker
If I did it all myself
It'd last a little longer
Or look better on the shelf
What lesson would that teach them
What mem'ries would they find
If I took it from their hands
And kept it just for mine
I'm bored in a meeting - so lets start a game
To spark conversation, disrupt and cast blame.
Search for contention in turning a phrase
Impute hidden meaning to a word someone says.
No matter the purpose, or just what they meant
Argue at length implied messages sent.
Worked up to a lather, sparks hot in the air
Now sit back and watch wile the others despair.
I don't think that I'd like to live there,
Too many steps to the top.
No corners to park naughty children,
A light that will never stop.
Fog that rolls in calls for non-pointed horns,
Warns sailors but wakes lookers on.
Sea-spray and salt coat both precious and poor,
corroding and rusting 'till gone.
A lighthouse in name, it's massive and tall,
Concrete and steel aren't light.
Not fit for a family to call it a home,
A house where I'll not spend a night.
No switch to flip nor wire nor plug
Rays of brightest white
Like clockworks made precise and sure
each day o'rcomes the night
Inventions to enrich our lives,
fill every corner, nook, and crack,
Screens that glow and flash and shift,
compute, process, display and track.
Hush the screaming lights and sounds,
seek refuge in some quiet place,
Loose the chains that tie the mind,
Take on a calmer slower pace.
The rhyming star is a fickle friend,
With mystic rays that shimmer and bend,
Around and past the would be poet,
With fullest heart though none may know it.
Visions of beauty and scenes in his mind,
Are trapped without outlet and won't be defined,
'Till lamely he finds a flavorless phrase,
Lost in a labyrinthian linguistic maze.
"I was not born under a rhyming star",
He howls in despair to the silence afar,
An echo returns with taunting and spite,
So he sets down his pen and calls it a night.
Way back in the dark ages when I was single and in college, I seriously contemplated spending the time and money required to get my private pilots’ license. I even went so far as to get a few hours behind the controls of a Cessna 182. It was enough to convince me I would love it and that I couldn’t afford to maintain it as a hobby if I was ever going to have a family. I gave up my quest before my first “solo” flight. I was disappointed, but accepted my fate with magnanimity; knowing that my first solo … Read the rest