I hobbled to the river
Which
was worth each step of pain.
My
bench and sunshine beckoned
So
my walk was not in vain.
The
early hour guaranteed
No
crowds would block my views;
The
sparkle of the water
Would
be something sad to lose.
There’s
not a single thing right now,
While
sitting, that I lack
But
a better knee would help
When
I begin my hobble back.
The month is drawing to a close
And soon, to drift by every nose
Will be the scent of lilac, rose
And all the scented flowers.
The leaves on trees will next unfurl
And mostly every boy and girl
Will give new shorts and tees a whirl,
Imbued with sunshine’s powers.
The ice cream truck will ring its bell
With lots of frozen treats to sell,
As May prepares to sit a spell,
Refreshed by April’s showers.
The squirrels always ate the seed
I’d used to fill the feeder.
They’d shimmy up the pole to follow
One brave soul, the leader.
Whenever I glanced out and saw
A squirrel up there munching,
I’d step outside and stomp my feet,
Which stopped unwelcome lunching.
But in a minute, they’d be back,
With cunning and with daring.
My foot stomps and some yelling
Didn’t seem to do much scaring.
Yet at my son’s today I felt
Like I had won a raffle.
The birds were at the feeder
‘Neath which hung a brand-new baffle.
The squirrels searched the ground below
In hopes of cast-off smidgens,
As baffled by the baffle as
Their world would be to pigeons.
I can’t resist a To-Do list.
In
fact, I’m an enthusiast
For
pads and pencils must exist
So
chores are taken care of.
Such
itemizing does assist
Me
in my day or I’d have missed
Important
tasks which might consist
Of
deadlines to beware of.
Though
some objections may persist,
To
me, they’re easily dismissed.
Without
my list, my mind would twist
In
ways I would despair of.
Some days I don’t feel that inspired;
Perhaps I am down or just tired.
It could be the blues
Or maybe my muse
Has gotten too old and retired.
Still, I will keep plugging away
Since there’s still quite a lot I can say.
With my pencil in hand
Words are at my command
So I’ll lasso a few to come stay.
Then I tame them and get them in line
‘Til the rhymes and the rhythms entwine.
The results that I seek,
With a tug and a tweak,
Might be what I’ll be proud to call mine.
A high school coach dropped to his knees
At the end of every game
To offer up a prayer to God;
Most players did the same.
It was a public high school
And this happened on the field.
When other teams were asked to join,
This practice was revealed.
The coach was asked to stop because
The realms of church and state
Are meant to be kept separate,
Which the courts must regulate.
However, lately, more and more,
Religion’s gaining ground
And cases like this one
In public schools are often found.
And now a lawsuit’s made it
To our very highest Court.
Considering our justices,
I’m dreading the report.
We shouldn’t have gotten the shed
For I’m sure you can guess where it’s led -
Saving things we don’t need;
With it gone, guaranteed,
We’d throw things in the garbage instead.
Now the mice have a place they can hide
When it’s freezing or raining outside.
They leave droppings behind
Which, of course, I will find
And I can’t seem to take it in stride.
I should simply just clean the shed out
For there isn’t the tiniest doubt
That the things I have saved
Make me look quite depraved
Which confirms what this poem is about.
