Contented Vagabond

Wheresoever you go, go with all your heart. ~Confucius

Me and Erin are doing okay
We stumbled on this nice little town
With free hot dinners and a bed.
No need to hoard cardboard or shopping carts
No need to fight driving rain and blazing heat
Or sleep with our eyes open for protection.
Yeah, we’re doing just fine.

You know that bicycle I used to ride?
I traded it for Erin a couple months ago.
She was with some other guy, but he wanted to make tracks
And Erin was just an inconvenience. Crazy, huh?
As soon as I saw her, I knew she was the gal for me.
Long silky red hair, eyes the color of honeyed copper.
Eyes you can practically drown in, they’re so full.

When I left, I didn’t know where I was headed.
Figured I’d just ride until I found myself
Or got bored, whichever came first.
Now that Erin is traveling with me, I’m learning responsibility.
We share everything — food, water, bed, laughs.
Whoever says a homeless person doesn’t need a dog
Just doesn’t know anything about me … or Erin.

So me and Erin are doing okay.
It’s not the life you dreamed of for me
But freedom is more important than wearing a suit and tie,
Punching a time clock, running the rat race.
There are places to see, people to talk to
And we only got one shot to do it all in anyway.
At least me and Erin got each other now.

Note: This was inspired — and fictionalized — from something I saw recently.

Chance Encounter

I didn’t ask for it to be over. But then again I didn’t ask for it to begin. For that’s the way it is with life, as some of the most beautiful days come completely by chance. But even the most beautiful days eventually have their sunset.
— Javan

She: I’m busy. Job to do. Focused. When I look up and lock eyes with my past, my heart stops.

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Baby Toad

toad

There once was a wee little toad
Who hopped on a leaf as it blowed.
The leaf, it did swing;
The toad, it did cling;
‘Til the leaf unloaded its load!

 

P. S. Another Limerick. I thought this little guy was a leaf…until I poked at him, and he hopped!

Dazzling Golden Beauty

maple

Resplendent in your dress of gold,
Lifting your arms to the birds of the air.
Tall and proud, stunning and bold,
Never a worry, never a care.

Oh maple tree touched by the sun,
Are you aware that one day soon
Your leaves will drop and you’ll be bare?
That snows and bitter winds will come
Bringing silence and quiet as winter’s tune.
Do you know, or do you care?

 

Note: This is written as a Horatian Ode, a poem with meter and rhyme, praising a person, animal, or object. The “object” is a Sugar Maple photographed in late afternoon sunlight.

Mornin’, Glory!

Our words should be purrs instead of hisses. — Kathrine Palmer Peterson

glory2

A long-ago editor of mine greeted me every day with the words, “Mornin’, Glory!”

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Do Something

Do something.

I can’t.
I’m only one.
And there’s just
Too much to do.
I can’t erase poverty,
Can’t cure disease,
Can’t bandage the broken,
Can’t take away pain.

Do something.

I’m not sure.
I’m just me.
And there’s so much
I’m unqualified for.
I’m not a doctor,
Not a lawmaker,
Not an evangelist,
Not a researcher or hero.

Do something.

Well, all right,
If You insist.
If You’ll help.
I can hold somebody’s hand,
Dry somebody’s tears,
Listen. Be present.
I can donate to a cause,
I can be an encourager,
I can pray.

Now you’ve got the idea! Do something.

I don’t expect you
To do everything.
Just do something
And trust that I AM
Will handle the rest.
Working together
We can make a difference.
My precious child,
I love you so much!

Writing

Rejection.

We writers

Open our souls

To the whole world

To see and to judge

What we labor to bring forth.

Sometimes it’s spectacular, inspired, or even divine;

Other times, it’s nothing but garbage

Wasting good ink and paper.

Or worse, merely average.

Running in circles

Saying nothing

Important.

Note: This one came to me late at night. If there’s a name for this poetic form (with word count increasing by one on lines 1-7, then decreasing back to one), somebody please let me know!

Only Child

full_moon_2014

Only child, all by yourself,
Who will teach you to share?
Only child, all by yourself,
How will you learn to care?

No sibling in sight to share with or fight,
No one to compete with, it’s true.
No closet to plunder, no sister or brother,
No one but your parents and you.

Imaginary games played by just one.
Imaginary friends who listen
And speak what you want, when you want them to talk,
Then depart with nary a squeak.

Before you know it, school begins
And then you will see, I fear,
The grappling and clawing, commotion and jawing
Of others you won’t want too near.

Only child, all by yourself,
Who will teach you to share?
Only child, all by yourself,
How will you learn to care?

Watching and listening are strengths that I have,
Don’t fret over me, mother and dad.
“Only” doesn’t mean lonely, you know,
And who misses what he’s never had?

I’ve chosen my pals with knowledge and care,
They like me in spite of my flaws.
They know when to talk and refuse to balk
If I’m grumpy or down with the blahs.

I’ve courted kindness, rightness, and humor
To bring people into my sphere.
I’m comfy alone and can hold my own
Whether folks are away or right here.

‘Tis better by far to have peace when alone
Than discord with a sibling, you see.
Anger, bitterness, silence, and hate
Are nothing I want around me.

Only child, all by yourself,
Of course you are learning to share!
Only child, all by yourself,
Your heart teaches you to care.

NOTE: This, according to my research, is written in Ballad Metre, a variation of Common Measure. Four lines alternate between iambic tetrameter and iambic trimeter in the rhyming pattern of a-b-c-b. If any of you experts know otherwise, please educate me!

Writing Conference Wrap-up

Because some of you asked me to share a few nuggets I gleaned from the writing conference I attended recently, here goes (and remember, back to “regular programming” next time!):

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Mingling, or Thinking?

“Quiet people have the loudest minds.” Stephen Hawking

There was a young woman at the writing conference I attended recently, and all I could do was stare at her with admiration (and yes, a touch of envy).

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