Dad taught us many things

Through expeditions up mountains, along trails,

Sunday afternoon car rides

And picnicking at a scenic creek, mountain, or roadside park

Discipline, endurance, fun, and adventure

Stinging nettles, stink bugs, milkweeds and snakes

Digging in sand dunes, wading in a cool spring,

Skipping a rock across the water

All were lessons wrapped in fun

The pain of the hot mid-day July Texas sun

And the power of an unexpected rain shower on a hike

The feel of loblollies made at the edge of a stock tank

And the taste of frog legs deep-fried in granny’s old country kitchen

Moss grows on the north side of a tree

Don’t go spelunking without first telling dad

Catch a possum by the tail, chase an armadillo,

But never ever disturb a skunk

Prickly pears hurt, although they can be good to eat

It is fun to make a bow and arrow

From a limb of a nearby willow tree

There is no need to hurt or kill another living creature

Not daddy long leg spiders, ugly insects,

Nor even killer bees

Clear the rocks on many hot days from a lake lot,

Then dump truckloads of fill stones on top

Quickly teach new depths of gratitude

For cooling dips in the lake

Dad could play happy songs on a French harp

Or on his personally made electric guitar

He fashioned flute like whistles from cane grown beside a creek

And his drums were beautifully crafted from wood

He could walk on his hands from the front yard to the back

And easily throw us high in the air when we begged

He was loved and feared all in the same breath

And his lessons remain with us still today

His comfort in daily routine

And his lifelong passion for woodwork

Enabled the creating of daily objects of beauty

Marking his time spent in joyful productivity

And resulting in a trail of treasures for others to admire

The morning song heard through the cool open window

Is the rooster’s crow hidden deeply in the shadow of the moon

Laboriously, he hoists the sun

To once again close its journey circle

Anticipation for the day’s agenda

Already lays heavy on my brow

Testing personal expectations

And creating deficiency apprehensions

How I yearn for the simple days of youth

When life burdens did not strain weakened muscles

And pull relentlessly against the tendons

Toughened through experience

Then, the roosters just crowed

The sun simply came up

Expectations were routine

And I did not comprehend the lyrics

*(TMI) a current acronym used in some circles for “too much information”

An iPod in my ear

Brings me cheer

Drapes my thoughts with a cape

And lets me escape

An iPod in my ear

Takes away fear

Can correct a mood

And help my troubles to elude

An iPod in my ear

Can restart my daily gear

Put a bounce in my step

So the floors can be happily swept

An iPod in my ear

Increases surprises from the rear

But there it will surely stay

Because we all know an “Apple” keeps the doctor away

Two daughter-in laws

Individual and vastly different

As all the seasonal springs and falls

Special and unique,

With they’re perfected

Talents and technique

Sparkles from my son’s eyes dart

Directed only to his

Very own sweetheart

Choices and affections are easy to understand

For they too are as antipodal

As the daily ocean sand

How happy to know each has found

The perfect mate

To hold his feet on the ground

Honest, smart, and beautiful, to see

Good loving mothers

They have shown to be

The same?

This,

They will never claim

But they are perfection

Each to their own

Love and direction

Following the path of age was long and treacherous

Mud balls of ideals and experiences

Carefully collected along the way

Stuck secure and heavy to my feet

Overflowing responsibilities

Carefully gathered, stuffed in a pack,

And securely strapped to my back

Simultaneously strengthened and weakened me

Priding myself with the treasures I obtained

And armed with undaunted focus on easy times to come

I forged forward, compelled and burdened

With dutiful determination griped on my face

Finally seeking to redeem earned treasures

Redemption had turned to a mirage

Always disappearing just as I reached to claim it

The unobtainable reward had simply been the journey itself

I hear the thunder of the approaching storm

Lightning decorates the predawn sky

Weathermen talking with an aura of alarm

Dangerous hail and floods threatening damage to the farm

The family is sleeping still

As I worry and sit by the window sill

My garden is barely ready for harvest

Will the hail destroy all the rest?

As the storm arrived

My concerns were of many deprived

Previous floods of a season of extremes

Already have accumulated to overflow the streams

Last year at this time we had no rain

Yet the news was still of the resulting pain

From unmade crops and suffering livestock

Nothing but worry done around the clock

Still I sit here in the comfort of my home

Safe, cool, dry, fed, and never alone

Helpless against the storms all around

Fearing what could fall next on the ground

Suddenly the storm is over

No hail fell on the garden or clover

The squirrels are out in such a scurry

No damage done here except for the worry

Words swirling through one’s head

Only to fall in a heap dead

A hurricane of thoughts circling aimlessly

Memories of which are cast aside unwillingly

Efforts are made of the words to catch

Scrambling for meanings to unlatch

Struggling to put in order

And neatly enclose with a border

Words heavy laden

With philosophical leaven

Overwhelmed with emotions

Desperate to share intellectual portions

So much is forgotten

And becomes rotten

In a huge grammatical collage

As unattainable as a mirage

Happy to gather a little bit

One meaning is a happy hit

One successful sentence out of so much to share

Makes all the confusion much easier to bear

A focus leak

Of which we so often speak

This likely may be

An infamous battle of Alzheimer or  *A.D.D.

*Attention Deficit Disorder

Chickens peck, scratch, and rest

While the coop wire protects them all around

Not a care or worry they carry

Just eat, squawk, lay eggs, and scratch the ground

Feed thrown through the wire

Falls like golden rain to the earth

Anticipating the treasures from the heavens

They scramble madly for their treat of worth

Oblivious they seem of the opportunist squirrels

Who laboriously gather the wire-clinging grain

Briefly trapped between the beams

And the heavens from which they did rain

A cardinal redbird makes a fast red swoop

To grab his straggling feast there

As the squirrel retreats to hide his treasure

Not at all of the bird aware

Focused on their grain each day

Each to the other was oblivious

The big picture is only revealed

When oblivious is replaced by obvious

Black lies, White lies, Gray lies,

Or lies of omissions

Hurt and stink

As foul and lethal as automobile emissions

All reek of deceit

Falling on their victims feet

With as much power and velocity

As a hurling block of concrete

So why is it so cool

Each other to fool

Putting best tricks in a pool

To carry home to the barstool

No one wins

Justifying the sins

Most often the loss is kin

And one’s very own skin

The north winds raced across the field picking up speed

Greeting and pushing the trees aside

And swirling around the corners of the house

In a playful arrogant rush

The horses darted in and around the cooling wind

With equal mischief and excitement

Kicking up their heels in the air

In direct rebellion and competition with the changing elements

The whistling interruption of the hyper air

Synchronized to the exuberant beat of the horses hoofs

And joined hands at the opposite horizons

Partnering with the sky’s stampeding gray clouds

It was an aggressive and expected announcement

Of the arrival of an old and dear friend

An Appropriate and suitable escort for

The welcome introgression of the seasonal change