Class Reunions Are Measuring Points
50th Class Reunion (Photo credit: roanokecollege)
Class Reunions Are Measuring Points
After my senior year in high school,
I left and vowed I’d never return.
For twenty years I kept my word,
For I had worldly lessons to learn.
But I began celebrating with my graduating class,
While I continued acting on life’s stage.
I found class reunions to be entertaining,
I wasn’t content to be left frozen on a yearbook page.
My ten year reunion seemed a little cold,
Conversations were earnest and matter of fact,
I laid out my dreams for all to see,
Pressure was on me to perform and act.
“Step in line. Let me take your picture.”
I wanted pictures reminding me of the past,
I believed the beautiful people should pose first,
Although my inner fear was I might be last.
“Smile!” the photographer barked,
My picture was taken and I found my seat,
Around an oval table sat unrecognized friends,
Who waited for a tri-tip dinner and good things to eat.
An invitation to the twentieth reunion arrived by mail,
“Your senior class is inviting you to attend,”
The invitation told me where and when,
Then signed, Your Anonymous Friends.
My curiosity was piqued by that note,
I put it on my calendar to make sure I was there.
Classmates arrived from parts unknown,
They all looked different; I had to stare.
Some men had beards or lost their hair,
My high school sweetheart was someone’s wife,
She had been married fifteen years,
Had a truckload of kids and was enjoying life.
I went from table to table searching for friends,
But many didn’t respond and didn’t go,
I tried not to show my disappointment,
When people asked, I’d say, “I don’t know.”
After twenty years the race was still on,
Life goals were in concrete set,
Families and jobs were often compared,
Friends asked, “Have your expectations been met?”
Classmates acted young and were chasing dreams,
They were waist deep in life as years flew past,
Each reunion became a measuring point,
And it seemed everyone was having a blast.
When the thirtieth rolled around I was racing by the rail,
Some classmates were ahead and avoiding the dust,
Their fortunes were already made,
They’d reached a level called “upper crust”.
The fortieth reunion was far more relaxed,
My retirement was rolling into sight,
Conversations were more about grandkids,
Houses and travel, and how money was tight.
Although I needed glasses and the light was dim,
I dared to study one rough-hewn face,
Memories of a young athlete competing
Were evoked from distant time and space.
His face was one I immediately recognized,
But when I shook his hand he seemed surprised,
“Bill,” I said, glad I could remember his name,
“Remember when we beat the Tigers in the big game?”
Then a woman’s face, etched with lines,
Hiding things she seemed afraid to share,
Perhaps she worried about a child’s health,
Or about a husband who didn’t care.
I wanted to distract her with a few kind words,
“Mary, I sat behind you n Spanish class,
I just wanted to tell you thanks,
Without your help I knew I could not pass.”
My role in life was to encourage and entertain,
I never won any academic awards,
But seeing my friends grin or smile,
Was to me a fantastic reward.
Once my mind had kept my body under control,
“Mind over matter,” had been often said,
Now my mind was losing its grip
“What’s next?” was running through my head.
I bought tickets to the fiftieth reunion
I decided to go before my energy drained,
Time was taking its daily toll
Sometimes it seemed little energy remained.
Before festivities started I looked around,
Wondering why men and women stared at me,
Squinting as they looked at my name tag,
They mumbled things like, “Long time, no see.”
It was time to focus on serious matters,
Because discussions centered around health,
Medicare, operations, medicines, and pills,
I noted that everyone cared less about wealth.
There wasn’t enough time to share my life,
For after dinner there was a live band,
Stirring up excitement with words I knew,
Playing sixties music to those who could stand.
Time and years had changed me,
From being indestructible with unstoppable plans,
I came to the realization I was fragile
And life had not been left in my hands.
My mirror tells me I have changed,
The years had not always treated me kind,
If I wander off or get left behind,
I’ve come to the conclusion I’ve lost my mind.
My features have coarsened and my hair turned gray,
Suddenly it seemed I became old and bent,
But the memories of reunions I’ve collected,
Are there to remind me I was glad I went.
I wouldn’t do things differently if we meet again,
Except print name tags larger so I can see,
An extra one backwards, larger, and upside down,
For I might need to be reminded that I am me.
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Today Is a New Day
Too often I cry, “What can you do for me today?”
But what I want to say,
“What can I do for you today?”
Can I wash your feet, visit you in jail,
Make you a pie with a heavenly smell?
I don’t want this to be a reciprocal thing,
I don’t want you to owe me anything,
Since life races along at breakneck speed,
I’d like to do something, at least one good deed,
I’ll give you a smile, start a new trend,
Share my life, become a true friend,
I want each day to be more about you,
So tell me, “What do you want me to do?”
I want my children to imitate what they see,
I guess that’s when life can be about me,
I’ll honor my parents though it may seem odd,
I’ll do unto others and I’ll worship God,
If I am generous in all that I do,
Then I might influence one, or maybe a few,
Helping others won’t be just an act,
And it won’t be because I simply react,
I want to share my heart in all that I do,
Today is a new day, what can I do for you?
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Ignored, Forgotten, Alone
Image via Wikipedia
They turn and face me,
Their eyes vacant of memories,
Their voices stilled,
They hunger to be held,
Anxious to feel the warmth
Of loving arms,
Who are they that reach in vain,
Our grandparents and parents, and us,
Soon I will be there,
Forgotten by those I cared for,
When they were young,
But that’s the way it will be,
The living caring for themselves,
The dying caring for the dying,
The elders are not sought for wisdom,
And youth is too often wasted,
On the careless or the reckless,
Just like the days of my youth,
When the future meant nothing,
And all I knew was the now,
So why am I here to greet the old,
Because now I can see what lies ahead,
When my time comes and I face you,
Looking for the warmth of loving arms,
Will I reach in vain,
And will you ignore my pleading eyes,
Or will you stay away,
Afraid to face where you might be,
When your world comes crashing down,
Hungry to be held, but left unloved,
Ignored, forgotten,
Alone.
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Christmas by the Forest
Image by Jon Person via Flickr
He wasn’t a mean man but he was grumpy at times,
He lived alone and liked to write poetry that rhymed,
His house, next to a forest, had a very pleasant view,
He wasn’t very happy though he had much to do,
He was often forgotten, his children lived far away,
They, too, said they were busy, and they’d visit someday,
His days were empty of meaning, his nights full of screams,
What was he living for, the world had taken his dreams,
A miracle was needed to soften his heart, he couldn’t turn life back,
If he could help someone, his life would be back on track,
His heart did not hear the tears or feel the anguished pain,
As a family nearby called out in the cold and chilling rain,
Five children stranded in the night watched as their mother died,
They huddled and quietly prayed, after their tears had dried,
Harsh reality took the stage as they looked at their papa to lead,
But things change rapidly at times, life is so hard to read,
Their father could not help, for this country was not his home,
He had to leave, he was banned, no longer could he roam,
Five children with no one, determined to reach a goal,
Could they survive a world so cruel and the winter cold,
They gathered and prayed once more, nothing else they could do,
No money, no parents, their hope should have been gone too,
The oldest daughter took charge, said they would go out swinging,
They sloshed through the snow, their angelic voices ringing,
Their voices carried through the night and across the snowy wood,
Where a man waited for a miracle, where he could do some good,
The man rose to hear this group and its cheerful sound,
He wondered why they were the only joyful group around,
He heard their songs and invited the five in, to sit before the fire,
They smiled when he told them they sounded like a heavenly choir,
Then he asked about their parents, then asked what will they do,
His heart was touched, “Please stay,” he urged, “I have rooms with a view,”
His house had been quiet far too long,
He needed to fill it with happy songs,
When he asked them to stay a miracle occurred for them,
And when they said yes a miracle occurred for him,
Christmas by the forest changed his life within,
Christmas by the forest meant their lives had a chance to begin.
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“Molly, Do You Want a Quacker?”
Image via Wikipedia
“Molly, Do You Want a Quacker?”
The mighty bulldozer roared and the frantic mother took flight,
Molly, an observant girl, discovered five duck eggs at the construction site,
She knew the heavy machines would soon destroy the nest,
So she carefully picked up the eggs and put them in her vest,
And that evening she read about what she should do next,
In an incubator she placed the eggs and marked each one with an “x”,
She read that every morning she needed to turn them over too,
Because that’s what a good mother duck would do,
She did more research so she would be prepared,
Because Molly wasn’t just any mother, she was one who cared,
After about a month the ducks began to hatch,
They followed Molly around even though she didn’t match,
When the ducks had gotten older she led them from their nest,
Molly led them down a trail so she could give them a test,
She had a list of all the things she wanted them to do,
They walked in a line, swam in the pond, so far 2 out of 2,
But they failed miserably when they couldn’t climb a tree,
They couldn’t hold an umbrella, or plead on bended knee,
Molly decided they needed their real mom to live like ducks should,
She looked around and found the mom in her own neighborhood,
The mother duck had enjoyed Molly showing the ducklings the tree,
The mother duck said to her, “You’re a good egg, but a quack up you tend to be,”
They worked hard to remain good friends and neither was a slacker,
But it became a joke when a duckling was bad, “Molly, do you want a quacker?”
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Just Call Me Number Five
Image via Wikipedia
If I didn’t
have siblings,
I wonder how life would be,
What names
would Mom,
Have called
me?
She seemed
to forget,
Which name did
I get?
Was I older
or younger,
It didn’t
matter, her ways were set,
It became an
endless game,
When she
couldn’t remember my name,
What meaning
did I derive?
Mom, just
call me number five,
Sandwiched
in between,
I was hardly
ever seen,
Six siblings
that did everything right,
So of course
I had to fight,
Whatever
your name is, come here,
You shouldn’t have been scrapping there,
Like a bee
from a busy hive,
Mom, just
call me number five,
Throughout
life I fought for fame,
Tried to get
people to remember my name,
But to the
inner circle of family and friends,
I was, you
know, that one, the one that grins,
Six great
siblings all with names,
Always around
for credit or blame,
Each of them
worthy to note with pride,
Their names
all shining, none to hide,
So if you
ask me I’d say I was special,
Probably one
of the luckiest men alive,
If you can’t
remember my name,
Just call
me, you know, number five.
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Ben
Ben, a young boy from India, wearing a scarf of red,
Stares intently and shakes his head,
“I’m full of love and curiosity,
Adopted when small even though the agency,
Thought for sure I might be,
Difficult to place for it was agreed,
I could be malformed, for no one had a clue,
That I was as normal as you,
It was thought I might not make it,
Because I was so tiny I could fit,
In a shoe box, but I grew,
Changing the life I once knew,
And with lots of fresh air,
Good nutrition and loving care,
My adoptive parents gave
Me love which my life it saved,
It was what I wanted and needed,
And through the years I proceeded,
To just be a unique, growing young lad,
Usually good, but sometimes bad,
It was plain to see that I was part of a family,
That loves the world and especially me,
My parents call me their joy,
For I’ m bright, happy, and all boy,
Now in my portrait I watch for visitors, a few steps up the stair,
Does my family know I’m here? Perhaps they’re not aware.”
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When Love Is Shallow, But Other Times Deep (Part Two)
Image by tibchris via Flickr
I attributed my wandering to my romantic allure,
And Kristi was there now to calm and reassure,
I settled down with Amanda, with Kristi down the road,
Twice the loving was great, but twice the financial load,
I worked harder and my sales continued to grow,
But as children arrived, my funds still became low,
Although Amanda had only graduated from high school,
I decided I’d find her a job, even if she had to retool,
With all three children in school all day,
There was no reason for her to stay and play,
“Amanda,” I said, “A wife’s duty is to support her man,
So you’re going to help, any way you can,”
“You do a good job at cleaning our abode,
You’re strong and healthy, you can share our load,”
“You can clean the houses of our busy friends,
There are three or four that I’d recommend,”
I loved Kristi more but I wanted to be fair,
Our two children were off and in child care,
I found her some work from an internet source,
With a few ads here and there, she became a force,
She would make sales to the desperate and old,
“Forget your conscience,” I said, “you’ve got to be bold,”
“Promise them they’ll make thousands per day,”
She learned to take what they had and then slip away,
They were both bringing in money like most wives should,
In fact, I thought the three of us were really doing good,
So I began to dress better, for the sake of the company,
That’s when I met the owner’s daughter, a beauty named Shari,
She was spoiled by her father, rotten to the core,
She usually got what she wanted, and a little bit more,
Now I was trying to have fun, maybe flirt and that’s all,
But she thought we should go out and have a ball,
Shari wanted to have her way, I said, “Oh, no, you’re not,”
“We’ll do things my way, a man should call the shots,”
My life was getting complicated, but what could I do?
My love had grown large enough, to include Shari too,
Amanda and Kristi kept the fires burning at home,
And Shari was possessive enough to not let me roam,
My life was organized and nobody was out of line,
My wives were contented and my kids were just fine,
(To Be Continued)
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When Love is Shallow, But Other Times Deep (Part Two)
Image by tibchris via Flickr
I attributed my wandering to my romantic allure,
And Kristi was there now to calm and reassure,
I settled down with Amanda, with Kristi down the road,
Twice the loving was great, but twice the financial load,
I worked harder and my sales continued to grow,
But as children arrived, my funds still became low,
Although Amanda had only graduated from high school,
I decided I’d find her a job, even if she had to retool,
With all three children in school all day,
There was no reason for her to stay and play,
“Amanda,” I said, “A wife’s duty is to support her man,
So you’re going to help, any way you can,”
“You do a good job at cleaning our abode,
You’re strong and healthy, you can share our load,”
“You can clean the houses of our busy friends,
There are three or four that I’d recommend,”
I loved Kristi more but I wanted to be fair,
Our two children were off and in child care,
I found her some work from an internet source,
With a few ads here and there, she became a force,
She would make sales to the desperate and old,
“Forget your conscience,” I said, “you’ve got to be bold,”
“Promise them they’ll make thousands per day,”
She learned to take what they had and then slip away,
They were both bringing in money like most wives should,
In fact, I thought the three of us were really doing good,
So I began to dress better, for the sake of the company,
That’s when I met the owner’s daughter, a beauty named Shari,
She was spoiled by her father, rotten to the core,
She usually got what she wanted, and a little bit more,
Now I was trying to have fun, maybe flirt and that’s all,
But she thought we should go out and have a ball,
Shari wanted to have her way, I said, “Oh, no, you’re not,”
“We’ll do things my way, a man should call the shots,”
My life was getting complicated, but what could I do?
My love had grown large enough, to include Shari too,
Amanda and Kristi kept the fires burning at home,
And Shari was possessive enough to not let me roam,
My life was organized and nobody was out of line,
My wives were contented and my kids were just fine,
(To Be Continued)
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One Autograph for a Ten Year Old
A ten year old boy lies quietly in bed,
He’d rather be outside playing instead,
His spirit is strong as he welcomes each day,
As he looks at the tubes that keep him at bay,
His smile is there even when he’s in pain,
His treatments are dreadful but he rarely complains,
He’s a brave young man unless tempted to cry,
When he sees the fear in someone’s eyes,
Too young for cancer to put him in strife,
But it’s there uninvited to control his life,
The doctors are doing the best they can do,
They’re waiting to see if the chemo comes through,
Being careful with our words to keep his spirits high,
To meet his wishes the family would like to try,
Signatures he’s requested to place on his board,
From celebrities who are willing of their own accord,
Although bedridden, his eyes would dance,
Knowing someone out there gives him a chance,
Leukemia is not an easy disease to subdue,
Signatures would lift his spirits, perhaps from you,
If you’re a star in sports, music, or screen,
It will make his day for your name to be seen,
Politicians and writers, you’re included too,
Please be sure you include what you do,
If you’re a friend or relative of a fabulous star,
Send those autographs from wherever you are,
His condition is critical, he’s confined to a bed,
The hospital has limits, and no visitors can tread,
If you can meet his request just simply reply,
Mail a short note with autograph to the little guy,
If you would like his address to be sent,
Ask me for his information in a comment.