No Rain in Sight


the crickets were forecasting the weather last night,

singing, “No rain in sight, No rain in sight!”

wells are drying up, businesses are shutting down,

soon no one will be living in this deserted town.

today two men were chastised for washing their car,

I’ve got to escape real soon to someplace real far.

my friends are looking at me with evil in their eyes,

my well is still working but i’m beginning to tell lies.

if they only knew I took a bath last night,

they’d sputter and yell and say it wasn’t right.

then one and all would leave with a frown,

and sometime at night my house might burn down.

I’ve got to be careful when crickets sing their song.

anything I might say could be construed as wrong.

I’m breathing dust that hangs heavy in the air,

there’s no rain in sight, so beware, beware!

by dan roberson

The Visit


Remember Me, My Love
Remember Me, My Love (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

The Visit

 

Let’s talk about how we feel

 

Because life is very real.

 

One day things will change,

 

And I’ll visit no more.

 

 

 

Remember the early years

 

When you came home and

 

Wanted to talk about your day?

 

I just wanted to sit and be quiet.

 

We compromised and I listened.

 

You cooked and I washed dishes.

 

I worked on the house and built a barn.

 

You took care of our household needs.

 

We were early to bed and early to rise.

 

 

 

Remember the years we shared,

 

The children we raised,

 

As  time flashed by

 

And the home that was blessed?

 

 

 

Remember how  we cherished each day

 

As we fought our diseases alone and together,

 

Sharing our pain and our love?

 

Do you remember all that, love?

 

I really miss you.

 

 

 

I’ve learned to talk while you listen.

 

Time passes slowly

 

And I wait patiently

 

For the moment

 

When we’re together again.

 

 

 

 

 

Me, My Wife, and the Other Guy


My Wife
My Wife (Photo credit: Abulic Monkey)

 

Me, My Wife, and the Other Guy

 

We sat at a table, the three of us,

 

Me, my wife, and the other guy,

 

Conversation flowed for awhile,

 

But neither could look me in the eye.

 

The place I sat was bypassed,

 

As words zipped and darted,

 

Like little birds flying to nests.

 

From time to time they would

 

Stop to consider and take a rest.

 

Both were annoyed that I remained,

 

And could find nothing else to do.

 

Joining in was out of the question,

 

Therefore I could do nothing but stew.

 

Her eyes bubbled over with images of him,

 

While his eyes were hooded and cold.

 

He wanted to do more than talk,

 

He waited to be reckless and bold.

 

Calmly I lifted my empty glass

 

And pretended to take a sip of my juice.

 

One false word, one slight misstep,

 

And surely all hell would break loose.

 

I studied the two in their interlocking worlds,

 

And decided I didn’t want to be there.

 

Fifteen years of married bliss,

 

And now she no longer cared.

 

Out the door and into the night,

 

Although I had no real place to go,

 

My heart was aching, my marriage breaking,

 

Life had dealt me a terrible blow.

 

With each heavy step from my house,

 

I reassured my shredded heart.

 

The future was cloudy and unknown,

 

But it was time for a brand new start.

 

I contained my anger and let it go

 

Without even raising my voice,

 

They had each other and I walked away.

 

For me it was the wisest choice.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Technically


Psychology
Psychology (Photo credit: 田村)

 

Technically

 

 

 

The spring that she graduated,

 

I met her for the very first time.

 

She was beautiful and so beguiling,

 

I was silly and talked in rhyme.

 

I told her very clearly how much

 

She would always mean to me.

 

I was convincing as I professed my love

 

And described our future as she wanted it to be.

 

 

 

I owe her big time, I’ve decided,

 

Because she brought me out of my shell.

 

She’d be surprised to know what I’m thinking

 

Even though she knows me well. 

 

My friends all think I’m crazy.

 

She’s the only one who thinks I’m sane.

 

But I can prove I’m as lucid as you,

 

Though technically I’ve been ruled insane.

 

 

 

Why would one think differently?

 

I go to work each and every day.

 

That’s where my best plans are made.

 

That’s why I continue to stay.

 

My boss keeps me from advancing.

 

He says he protects me like his own son.

 

But I know he’s not telling the truth,

 

Because there haven’t been any battles he’s won.

 

 

 

My wife and I don’t discuss things any more.

 

I refuse to listen as she states her point of view.

 

She’s overweight and filled with hate,

 

She has none of the sweetness that’s in you.

 

It is evident my love didn’t last forever.

 

I told her this morning that she and I were through.

 

She’ll look great in her pretty black dress,

 

Lying silently by me and you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

English: A452 Europa Way, Warwick Portentous o...
English: A452 Europa Way, Warwick Portentous offices and ‘tree’ sculpture on the Tachbrook Park business park. First occupied by the Heart of England Building Society who were taken over by the Cheltenham & Gloucester. They now house a large firm of solicitors, Wright Hassall. The area is technically in Warwick but feels more like south Leamington. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

The River’s Heart Is Cold


River Seridó
River Seridó (Photo credit: grungepunk2010)

 

The River’s Heart Is Cold

 

The river whispers to me as I walk along her banks,

 

She welcomes me into her depths but I stop and say, “No, thanks.”

 

She tells me she loves me and I almost believe it’s true,

 

Yet I know she’ll be fickle always and someday we’ll be through.

 

She shares the latest gossip she heard in meadows upstream,

 

I say the rumors aren’t the truth and they’re not as they seem.

 

She runs along beside me and her excitement she can’t conceal,

 

And she makes me vow secrecy for reasons she doesn’t reveal.

 

Her playful moods change rapidly especially after a pouring rain,

 

Angrily she gouges out channels when her banks don’t contain.

 

I would claim her as my own but her spirit runs wild and free,

 

She murmurs she loves me too but she’ll never belong to me.

 

I’ll be there to clean up her debris when clearly she’s to blame,

 

The river‘s heart is too cold to trust but I love her just the same.

 

 

 

We’re Lucky to Have Christmas


English: A postcard from 1919, with artwork of...
English: A postcard from 1919, with artwork of Santa Claus and Mrs. Claus. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

We’re Lucky to Have Christmas

 

Time stood still and my heart stopped,

 

When she announced she was leaving that night.

 

It didn’t sink in that she meant what she said,

 

Until she got on the very next flight.

 

 

 

I think of the time I wasted,

 

Letting it slowly slip through my hands.

 

I could have been loving her,

 

Rather than complaining and giving commands.

 

 

 

She promised she would love me forever.

 

I think she intended it to be true.

 

I said I could survive on my own

 

But deep within my heart I knew.

 

 

 

I could have used time in segments,

 

Dinner for two, flowers, a loving glance,

 

Instead I spent time on my own interests,

 

And time didn’t give a second chance.

 

 

 

It was the season to laugh and be jolly

 

And the time to play in the snow.

 

But it was a sad time for me that year.

 

She wouldn’t be under the mistletoe.

 

 

 

We wouldn’t be watching a parade together,

 

From the very first float to the last.

 

I made many mistakes along the way.

 

And now our parade had gone past.

 

 

 

She talked about having quality time,

 

And times we could just hang out.

 

I insisted she was my very best friend.

 

But I gave her many reasons to doubt.

 

 

 

The Christmas lights in that bar were blurry,

 

The drinks were making me cry.

 

I hadn’t told her how much I loved her,

 

Yet I knew I was a lucky guy.

 

 

 

I was ready to go home and decide what to do.

 

I needed some time to think.

 

I heard a voice calling my name,

 

Then, “Cowboy, can I buy you a drink?”

 

 

 

I’ve never seen a face more beautiful.

 

She had returned and was smiling at me.

 

Now I’m a reformed and loving man.

 

I’m sure that’s the way it should be.

 

 

 

That’s my Christmas story,

 

I hope you take a moment to pause.

 

If she hadn’t returned there wouldn’t be Christmas.

 

If you don’t believe what I told you,

 

Just ask my wife, Mrs. Claus.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Honey Bee


Queen bee 3
Queen bee 3 (Photo credit: quisnovus)

 

Honey Bee

 

He slowly approached the bee hives,

 

Observing the endless streams of flight.

 

The honey bees deserved his attention,

 

But he wondered, What is she doing tonight?

 

 

 

He put on his hat and accompanying veil,

 

To provide protection from stings to his face.

 

He lit up his smoker and then eased it down.

 

Would I be welcome if I stopped by her place?

 

 

 

Prying open a lid he sent in a few puffs of smoke.

 

The bees calmed down and moved away,

 

While he checked each frame for the queen.

 

What could I bring to brighten her day?

 

 

 

The queen was perfect, undamaged and full.

 

In the summer this hive would be strong.

 

There would be supers of golden honey.

 

 He’d get sweet rewards if nothing went wrong.

 

 

 

As he carefully reassembled the frames,

 

One worker flew out and stung his wrist,

 

Was that a portent of things to come?

 

Would he be crossed from her list?

 

 

 

As he worked through the remaining  hives,

 

He was distracted by a disturbing thought.

 

If he was determined, would love find a way?

 

Because she was well worth any battles fought.

 

 

 

In his beat-up car he sped wearily to her house,

 

Hoping he could see her without being seen.

 

On her porch he would leave a bottle of honey,

 

With a note saying, TO MY QUEEN.

 

 

 

Plans concerning love can sometimes go awry.

 

Honeyed words often remain frozen on lovers’ lips,

 

And love not claimed can be lost for all time,

 

Sailing swiftly away like a phantom ship.

 

 

 

In front of her house he parked his car,

 

And placed the honey up on her porch.

 

Before he could leave she raced outside.

 

He wasn’t the only one carrying a torch.

 

 

 

She was perfect, just right for his queen.

 

Ripe and willing, she was waiting for her king.

 

Their future was golden and offered sweet rewards.

 

Though they had little, they had everything.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Life’s Mirror


An illustration from page 30 of Mjallhvít (Sno...
An illustration from page 30 of Mjallhvít (Snow White) an 1852 icelandic translation of the Grimm-version fairytale (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

Life’s Mirror Is a Friend or Two

 

“You’re incompetent!” he screamed as he sat in his chair,

 

But, oh, how he wished that mirror wasn’t there.

 

He wanted to look regal perched on a throne,

 

But that was impossible when his friends were gone.

 

Tears splashed down his cheeks

 

As he stared up into the sky,

 

“How can my friends show respect

 

To such a fool as I?

 

Throughout my life there was much,

 

I wanted to say and do,

 

I wanted to be a good Samaritan,

 

I’d help someone, it didn’t matter who.

 

I thought I’d take trips to exotic  places

 

But I chose to work instead,

 

By then I had a growing family,

 

and the children needed bread.

 

How can I prove I’m a cultured man?

 

I haven’t traveled very far,

 

All my knowledge is about small town folks,

 

I never claimed to be a star.

 

I thought I’d try to be an example

 

Of how a man should be,

 

But I’ve failed every time with even my best,

 

Because all you get is me.”

 

 

 

He had been confessing to a mirror,

 

That he’d failed every worldly task,

 

“What’s wrong?” I ventured through the open door,

 

Yet I had no need to ask,

 

The old man was surprised to see someone he knew,

 

I considered myself a friend,

 

“I’ve been listening for quite some time,

 

Your self pity needs to end.

 

You’ve raised five kids all alone,

 

You took that burden in stride,

 

I don’t know about the rest of your friends,

 

But I think of you with pride.

 

You coached several teams in summer leagues,

 

You taught some kids to drive,

 

You were there to greet strangers,

 

When they were anxious and newly arrived.

 

You helped families who lost their homes,

 

Or anyone out of luck,

 

Even when you were stretched real thin,

 

Somehow you found a few bucks.

 

You might think you did things wrong,

 

I think you did things right,

 

There’s a crowd gathering in the dark,

 

Could I welcome them in with the light?”

 

One single line came through the door

 

and seemed to stretch for miles.

 

Each person had something good to say,

 

and ended their comments with a smile.

 

“We wanted you to know we learned from you,

 

We always knew your love was wide.

 

All the love we have for you

 

We can no longer keep inside.”

 

The old man’s eyes grew large and dark,

 

He glanced around the hall,

 

“Thank you, my friends, for loving me,

 

For you know I love you all.”

 

He shook the hands of all and each,

 

It filled his heart with pride,

 

Then because he had been deeply touched,

 

He lowered his head and cried.

 

 

 

The Monster from Forest Drive


English: Raider's Road, Forest Drive Sunlight ...
English: Raider’s Road, Forest Drive Sunlight shines through the new growth on the pine trees on the Raider’s Road, Forest Drive. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

The Monster From Forest Drive

 

 

 

A monster lived at forest edge,

 

Right at the end of Forest Drive,

 

His neighbors chose to lock their doors,

 

If they wished to stay alive.

 

 

 

Both his wings had been broken,

 

With a cane he could hardly walk,

 

He didn’t look mean or scary,

 

But he could talk real monster talk.

 

 

 

There were rumors he lived in the basement,

 

Others said the attic was his home,

 

He was often seen on cloudy days,

 

And at night he chose to roam.

 

 

 

He shuffles, he stumbles,

 

As he howls at the moon,

 

He is sure to catch one of you,

 

If he’s not caught real soon.

 

 

 

 

 

No one knew where he came from,

 

He suddenly appeared one day,

 

The neighborhood was upset he was there,

 

Because he took their place to play.

 

 

 

Their meeting place had been at forest edge,

 

Where their bonfires often lit the sky,

 

He built his house on their spot,

 

Without telling them his reason why.

 

 

 

He snorts, he chuckles,

 

He’s covered with blood and gore,

 

Waiting for the lights to go off,

 

He stands quietly by the door.

 

 

 

The witches of the cul-de-sac,

 

Stirred up a powerful brew,

 

They thought their potion lethal,

 

But he said, “Thank you.  I’ll have two.”

 

 

 

To their surprise he took a sip,

 

Without losing his feeble mind,

 

There seemed to be no aftereffects,

 

Except the foot he dragged behind.

 

 

 

He shuffles, he stumbles,

 

As he howls at the moon,

 

He is sure to catch one of you,

 

If he’s not caught real soon.

 

 

 

Blood-red wine was his favorite drink,

 

And bones he chewed for lunch,

 

All thought his manners were impeccable,

 

Royal blood would be their hunch.

 

 

 

One dark night they gathered,

 

To discuss his solitary ways,

 

He had made them all uncomfortable,

 

For five years, two months, and ten days.

 

 

 

He snorts, he chuckles,

 

He’s covered with blood and gore,

 

Waiting for the lights to go off,

 

He stands quietly by the door.

 

 

 

In a large casket they sealed him,

 

No more to see the light,

 

Security police accidently let him loose,

 

And he slipped quietly into the night.

 

 

 

Somewhere in this vast country,

 

He was last seen entering a town,

 

Hunters of all kinds searched the woods,

 

But no monster could be found.

 

 

 

He shuffles, he stumbles,

 

As he howls at the moon,

 

He is sure to catch one of you,

 

If he’s not caught real soon.

 

 

 

He snorts, he chuckles,

 

He’s covered with blood and gore,

 

Waiting for the lights to go off,

 

He stands quietly by the door.

 

 

 

I Loved From Afar


Album cover of From Afar by Ensiferum.
Album cover of From Afar by Ensiferum. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

I Loved From Afar

 

I admired her from afar,

 

She had the eyes of an angel,

 

The smile of a devil,

 

She swore like a sailor,

 

And had a silver tongue like a lawyer,

 

The flair of an actress,

 

Told stories like a fisherman,

 

Lied like a trooper,

 

And wrote like a poet,

 

Studied like a scholar,

 

Worked like a carpenter,

 

If she had cared like a nurse,

 

Or showed one shred of remorse,

 

I would not have feared her,

 

I could have risked and loved,

 

Willing to learn from being vulnerable,

 

Squeezing success away from failure,

 

Telling her how much I cared,

 

But I feared making a mistake,

 

I was terrified I would be rejected,

 

So I left happiness lying in the street,

 

While I ran with my eyes and heart closed,

 

Keeping my emotions bottled up,

 

And I loved from afar,

 

Safe for another day,

 

Or maybe an eternity.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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