AN ODE

Submitted to dVerse Poetics
June 28, 2017
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I salute you, my hero in blue.
You carry me where I wish to go.
We enjoy our solitude, you and I.
and yet our togetherness brings us joy.
Together we savor country lanes,
visits to deserted cemeteries, quaint
villages and shops filled with ephemera.
Our camaraderie improves with the years
We both ripen with age, like fine wine.
If I have not remembered to tell you,
I tell you now,----your faithfulness enriches me.
Of them all, you are my stouthearted favorite
my own dependable, reliable Buick LeSabre. *

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*  For those not from the U.S., the Buick
LeSabre is my automobile, which I've
had since 2001 !

WAR ... AND PEACE

Submitted to Poets United Midweek Motif
where we're asked to write of
War and Peace.
June 28, 2017

WAR …. AND PEACE

In the 1700’s
it was the Revolutionary War, and we
fought for freedom from the English.
…and young men went to war and died.

In the 1800’s
We went to war with ourselves and the
North fought the South
…and young men went to war and died.

In the 1900’s
We went to war with Germany and the madman
who planned to conquer all of Europe, and the
Japanese, who destroyed half our navy at
Pearl Harbor
…and young men went to war and  died.

Today, the Germans, the Japanese, and the
English are our friends and allies.
Does anyone see the irony in that?
Why do men make war?   Could we just
make peace?
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BLESSINGS

Paul has asked us to write a blessing
poem for Tuesday Poetics this week.
What a wonderful idea to put blessings
and positive thoughts out into the
universe!
Submitted to dVerse Poetics
June 27, 2017
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May you know the blessing of each
new day, and remember those who are
denied that gift.

May you know the blessing of family love,
and share it generously and gratefully.

May you appreciate the blessing of a roof
over your head and a warm bed, and remember
those for whom these are only dreams.

May you be blessed with gratitude for enough,
and not be greedy for too much.

May you be blessed to see the beauty of nature,
and  learn to treat it well.

May you be blessed with respect for those who
are irksome, and remember you don’t walk
in their shoes.

May you be blessed with friends, and remember
to be a good and thoughtful friend.

May you be blessed with the art of kindness,
and leave it wherever you go.

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SUMMER TRAGEDY

Many of us are enjoying summer activities and
festivities, but my heart is in Ohio with the parents
of Otto Warmbier.
Submitted to dVerse Haibun/Haiku #50
June 25, 2017

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Otto Warmbier came home last week.  He was detained in
North Korea for a year and a half for the supposed infraction
of taking a political poster, for which he was sentenced to
15 years hard labor.  No one knows what torture he endured
during this time under the harsh and cruel regime of this country. 
Suffice to say when he was returned to the U.S. his body was
but a shell of the robust athletic body it had been, and he was,
for all intents and purposes, brain dead.   He died shortly after
his return home.  Two short years ago he was graduating high
school, second in his class,  a handsome, popular and adventurous
young man with plans for an exciting summer trip to North Korea
before entering the University of Virginia in the fall.  Now another
summer, and he lies beneath the prairie sod of Ohio, his ready
laughter and bright voice forever stilled.   What a tragedy.


Summer excitement
Sunshine and travel abroad
Tragedy ensues
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PUBERTY AT 45

Just when we think we have life figured out, it has a
way of throwing us a curve ball.  This poem was written
at just such a time in my life.
Submitted to Poets United Poetry Pantry #359
June 25, 2017
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I approached forty-five in a manner quite staid
The children were grown, the mortgage almost paid
I had all the answers, I knew what came next
Retirement, grandchildren, just like in the text.

Then Fate shuffled the cards and dealt a new hand
“You’re alone now”, Fate said, “Just where do you stand?”
“I don’t know”, I shouted, as I dealt with my sorrow,
“But somehow I’ll manage to plan for tomorrow”.

So I set out to consider just where I’d belong
“You’ll do fine”, people said, “You’ve always been strong”.
Didn’t they know it was scary out there
Facing life as a single when you’d been half of a pair?

And I, who only yesterday had seemed to know it all,
In my single encounters felt exceedingly small.
Suddenly, in my middle years, thanks to fickle Fate,
To my utter amazement I accepted a date.

And the wizard of the PTA felt once again quite stupid
As now once more, as at sixteen, she’s targeted by cupid.
My thoughts turned back to the late-night talks
When my daughter sat on my bed.
So wise I was then, so opposite now
What great thing was it I’d said?

“Mother’s doing quite well”, said daughter to son.
“It’s good she’s found life still can be fun.”
And they, whom I’d counseled in this, that and the other
Now took up the task of bringing up mother.

“Remember our talks, Mom, when you expected the worst?
They’re the same now”, said daughter,
“But the roles are reversed“.
I’m grateful, Lord, you’ve let me know
It’s still good to be alive.
But, is there some way that we could forego
This puberty at forty-five?

A VILLANELLE

Frank meets us at the bar with a request for a villanelle,
which I consider to be a rather Machiavellian format,
akin to the dreaded "story problems" I abhored in school,
which, after circuitous route, ended in "How many people
were on the bus when it reached Topeka?" or some such. 
Nonetheless, I offer my feeble attempt ... my first villanelle.

Submitted to dVerse Poetics
June 22, 2017

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So many gods, so many creeds
So many ways to go astray
When love is all this old world needs.

Men fall victim to misdeeds
Power and money call their name
So many gods, so many creeds

Careless for the urge he feeds
Man  seems powerless to resist
When love is all this old world needs

Never guessing where it leads
The chosen path, the destiny
So many gods, so many creeds.

Wanting only to fill his needs
With no regard for implications
When love is all this old world needs.

Careless of the voice he heeds
Stumbling onward  toward his plight
So many gods, so many creeds
When love is all this old world needs.
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YOGA DROPOUT

In honor of the International Day of Yoga, we’re
asked to consider yoga in our Wednesday writing.
I’m sharing my shortcomings (sigh)!
Submitted to Poets United Midweek Motif
June 21, 2017

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“Picture a hammock between two trees“,  the
hypnotist said.  The office was quiet, the
reclining chair was comfortable, the clock was
softly ticking, and I …I was wondering what
I’d fix for dinner.  Onward he soldiered, determined
to get me in touch with my inner self. I felt myself
sinking into deep relaxation … then my brain kicked in.
Was this hypnosis?  How was I supposed to react?
I wondered if he hypnotized his wife, ….and I
wondered what I’d fix for dinner.

Having failed hypnosis, I considered yoga, with similar
result. My work involved a good bit of auto travel.  I
never played the radio, but considered my travel to be
“think tank time”, and let my mind wander in many
directions as I motored in silence.  It was during this
time I wrote a lot of poetry, and drew a lot of conclusions
about life in general.  In retrospect, I think I engaged in
automobile yoga!  At any rate, I find myself ill prepared
to write a poem about yoga.  Were I to attempt the lotus
position at this point in my life, it would take two strong
men and a derrick to get me unbent and upright.  I look
forward to reading of the yoga experiences of my
fellow poets, however.

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