With a Breeze in the Back
One lump or two? Or fifteen? (Photo credit: Joff Hopkins)
With a Breeze in the Back
“One lump or two?” I heard the nurse say,
My heart began pounding twice as fast,
I wasn’t mentally prepared on that fateful day,
I thought, This day could be my last.
From his office into the clean crisp air,
Escaping because I was upset and afraid,
Suddenly I realized that I was almost bare,
And in front of the Thanksgiving parade.
I couldn’t decide exactly what to do,
I still wore my gown with a breeze in the back,
I was embarrassed and a little cold too,
But I was in the parade, the leader of the pack.
My mind was numb and I lost my fear,
And I began to relax and wave,
The crowd roared and began to cheer,
For they thought I was extremely brave.
High stepping and saluting to the crowd’s delight,
I marched past the judges’ stand,
I was in my glory and in full sight,
I won a trophy for most spectacular in all the land.
I led that parade down a frontage street,
Until I marched into the doctor’s office again,
I entered and had just taken a seat,
When the doctor rushed in with a grin.
He asked, “Have you been waiting long?”
As he spent two minutes looking over my chart,
“Well I marched in a parade and wrote a song.”
He squinted and said, “Patience is an art.”
“Doc, I need to know. Was it one lump or two?”
“Why would you want to know that?
I want my coffee sweet so two lumps will do,
My wife would kill me. She thinks I’m getting fat.”
Two lumps of sugar had been my downfall,
I had led a parade where everyone could see,
It hadn’t been my lymphatic glands at all,
It was sugar that almost killed me.
In the doctor’s office listen to what he says,
Don’t jump to conclusions if you’ve found a little bump,
Unless he shows you the x-rays,
Let his coffee contain the lump.
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S.T.O.P!
Image via Wikipedia
S. T. O. P.
Ages ago, when cars were raked and chopped,
There weren’t cell phones or games to be shopped,
And many young kids took the time to drag Main,
Whether the night was clear or pouring rain,
It was a time of confusion and serious doubt,
Where should young kids go if they wanted to hang out?
During this period lived three Signs of the time,
I know this is weird but their names do not rhyme,
Stop lived with his two brothers, Yield, and Slow,
And hung out at corners where most people go,
Stop grew tired of being ignored like you might expect,
People waved at him but they showed little respect,
Some raced through without thought of danger,
Some turned off their lights at intersections, (even stranger)
Stop thought it could happen one day that cars crashed,
He thought cars should halt before someone got mashed,
But Slow and Yield argued and could not agree,
Just reducing the speed was enough, they said, just wait and see,
The brothers searched for solutions all through the night,
And finally they were all happy by dawn’s early light,
Slow would show first, and Yield would be next,
Stop would wait patiently to keep cars from wrecks,
Slow and Yield were respected and rarely got blame,
But Stop stirred up some who made fun of his name,
His name was used as an acronym for many phrases,
But Stop grew to accept them as they went through phases,
1. Stop Teasing Our Police
2. Squeal Tires on Pavement
3. Start to Open Presents
4. Start the Oprah Program
5. Stop Testing Our Patience
6. Stop Telling on People
Stop became well known and recognized by all,
It wasn’t because he was handsome or nine feet tall,
Stop’s sign wasn’t common or made from a riddle,
His sign was a red octagon with his name in the middle,
Slow with a rectangle and Yield with sides of three,
The brothers were happy, as happy as can be.
The Center of the Circle
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The stories
in nature are never complete,
There are always lessons that will repeat,
From the
past, the present, and eons beyond,
Patterns
develop from plans once spawned,
From visions,
I’ve seen truths and facts,
Comparing
man and beast in gruesome acts,
Animals in
nature out of necessity must kill,
While mankind
often does it for the thrill,
Yet in my
dreams the circle’s center,
Becomes the
place where I enter,
And the
visions I see are all askew,
Gruesome,
deadly, but nothing new,
In my deep dark dreams I could see,
Killer
whales and their strategy,
Orcas, the
wolves of the sea,
Driving
their prey to its destiny,
Penguins or
seals, whatever the prey,
Onward pushed,
none allowed to stray,
Eager to
escape, but they stayed tight knit,
To the group
they had chosen to commit,
But the pod
of orcas tightened the noose,
Turning
their prey inward, not one turned loose,
The orcas
continuing their relentless chase,
Until the
matriarch gave the signal to end the race,
There was no
waiting, no time to pause,
Into the
center slashed hungry jaws,
A feeding
frenzy with victory won,
Patience
rewarded, the pod moved on,
(To be
Continued)
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You Weren’t On My Schedule
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I passed you today as I took my morning walk,
You looked cold and hungry but I didn’t want to talk,
I was looking up, you were looking down,
I was wearing a smile, you were wearing a frown,
I didn’t take the time to ask you what was wrong,
I was In the middle of humming a very special song,
I couldn’t be interrupted, for I had too much to do,
But I promised to ask sometime what was bothering you,
No, not next week, for there are things I have booked,
I checked my schedule in case anything’s been overlooked,
“How are you?”, “I’m fine,” but I really didn’t have time to chat,
I had people to see and things to do, you know, this and that,
I was eager to share my world with someone, but no, not now,
You took away my joy because you were in my way somehow,
You looked awful, perhaps struggling to find something to say,
But when tears rolled down your cheeks, you nearly ruined my day,
“Good grief!” I muttered, but I know I wasn’t being rude,
I chose to be patient because I wanted to keep my good mood,
“Shape up, I don’t have time for this,” I snapped in dismay,
“Oh, my!” You were looking sad and putting on a display,
“I don’t care what your problem is, you’ll just have to wait,”
“I’ve got to go and smile at folks, and now you’ve made me late!”
I rushed away, leaving you behind, despair plainly on your face,
I was hoping you’d find someplace else, be gone without a trace,
When I returned you weren’t there, much to my relief,
I didn’t want to see you again or put up with your grief,
Life is short and there was so much I still needed to do,
Did you expect me to waste my time, on someone like you?
Outside the sun is bright, what a beautiful Easter day,
Yet inside my joy is false, I feel shame for my deceptive ways,
When you were hungry and in pain, I wasn’t there for you,
I was thinking just about myself, and all the things to do,
I cheated you by turning away, I should have listened with my heart,
Yesterday won’t come again, so I’m asking for a brand new start,
I really want to love others more, wherever they might be,
The best way that I know how, is to begin with you and me.
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What It Is, It Is…………
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A friend of mine asked me today,
“What should I do if love has its way?
I don’t know how to keep the flames stirred,
Do you know the answer? Tell me the secret word,”
I studied him intently, “You know my advice is free,
And I’ll tell you the truth even if you disagree,
You’re much like the others who sought me out,
Confused by love but your heart is stout,
If you are ready for my answer I will proceed,
I’ll tell you a short story about a man and his seed,”
He nodded his head and inclined his ear,
Ready for the wisest words he might hear,
“What it is, it is”………………………………………….
He looked at me puzzled, then started to grin,
“You’re trying to confuse me before we begin,”
I shrugged my shoulders and looked him in the eye,
“If you don’t take my answer seriously, I won’t even try,
There are struggles in love as you know well,
If you don’t get it right, it becomes a living hell,
But if you listen carefully to all I have to say,
You’ll find heaven, here on earth, each and every day,”
He motioned for me to share the things I might know,
So I began again, saying the words real slow,
“What it is, it is”……………………
This time he listened without making a sound,
“My example is about a garden and fertile ground,
A man started with good soil, wanting the very best,
The site was prepared, everything passed the test,
He sought opinions as he took extreme care,
He tilled it one more time until soft and fluffy there,
He marked his rows, planted the best of seeds,
Sent water down the rows, enough to meet their needs,
He gave thanks and smiled, now that his work was done,
He was proud, there was good soil, seed, water and sun,
He was ready to relax and take a long trip,”
My friend stirred, “He needs to get a grip,”
“What it is, it is”…………………………………………
He looked at me and silently shook his head,
I didn’t explain, but returned to the story instead,
“The man returned, expecting to harvest his crop,
But there was no moisture left, not even a drop,
The once soft ground was hard, the plants were dry,
Insects had shredded everything, his whole supply,
All that was left was ruined, it didn’t fit his needs,
The ground was covered with hundreds of weeds,
He was upset and he still didn’t understand,
I tried to clarify carefully about gardens and land,
“What it is, it is”………………………………………….
I explained to him and I’ll now tell it to you,
“With gardens and love there are rules few,
Rule number one: Should I let it go?
Let your inner compulsive child speak soft and low,
If something isn’t very important, don’t let it grow,
Love has a chance to bloom for all your life,
If you strive for peace and love instead of strife,
Rule number two: Should I fix it?
Choose to listen without harsh words,
Don’t chatter loudly like angry birds,
One cannot fix a problem without the other,
Compromises are necessary or why even bother?
Rule number three: Should I deal with it?
The first thing to remember is the commitment you made,
When you decided to join, the foundation was laid,
You made a choice to become her lover,
A commitment is a choice made over and over and over,
What some people forget is their garden to tend,
They know where to start but don’t wait for the end,
Within each of us is a garden that will yield much love,
But the garden needs tending with help from above,
Should you be negligent and let it grow wild,
In a short growing season you’ll find nothing worthwhile,
Spending time in your garden is a worthy endeavor,
You have to pay attention if you really mean forever,
You cannot neglect all you have promised to share,
Or her heart will dry up without tender care,
And if there’s too much time you spend away,
It’s possible for her weary heart to stray,
And should you get caught up in evil deeds,
Your love will eventually get choked by weeds,
Love is more than the emotions she holds for you,
It is the patience and kindness that you can do,
With loving care you’ll reap rewards from her heart,
She’ll love you forever from finish to start,
Faithfully protect and cherish to keep love alive,
Do your best for your garden and your love will thrive,”
“What it is, it is”…………………………………………………………..
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