gather ’round you ogres, trolls, fairies, wizards, elves, and giants, for I have a story to tell…
your days are numbered by the emergence of mankind
your histories will become mysteries until the end of time
your lives reduced to children’s fables and tales
where mankind is the hero who always prevails
so gather around my children and we’ll pretend
that this isn’t your end
I move through my mornings like a sloth awakening
from a coma
mindlessly groping for my fix which is beckoning
to me
the need for comfort and warmth
from my first cup of coffee
the smell of that savory brew
invigorates me through and through
the burst of energy it gives is a pleasure
every day
when I imbibe my liquid measure
of coffee – my morning mainstay
it wasn’t so long ago on a beautiful spring day
that a yellow onion was planted in fertile ground
giving it a dark and warm place to stay
for a 100 days
but a time came
when the yellow onion was game
for a cook with seasoning intentions
to make culinary inventions
so it was plucked from the ground
without a sound
and carried into the cook’s kitchen
where it was awaited by a chicken
that needed seasoning
and the reasoning
was it would add flavor
making it a meal to savor
but copious tears were shed that day
while peeling it’s life away
as stated in the onion’s obituary
with the god’s favorite libation
there is much celebration
led by a smiling Bacchus
and his observation
that there is truth in wine
that imbibing is fine
and it’s okay to drink anytime
I’ll be as honest as I can be
the art of typing has always eluded me
in school it was mandatory
a class I hated unapologetically
always failing to use my memory
to find each and every key
but I didn’t give up you see
I developed a Columbus strategy
landing on each key a discovery
with two fingers basically
doing all the work for me
the strategy was a mystery
to some who admired my energy
and speed, but it was a guarantee
that I could compete unconventionally
with those typing from memory
some early memories are gardens of delight
others are not so serene like getting into a fight
making Revelle car models like Ed Roth’s SuperFink
was a favorite hobby because I didn’t have to think
I raced on narrow red skateboards with metal wheels
while dreaming of someday having my own automobiles
my imagination was unfettered with too many facts
spending my time playing with all kinds of knick-knacks
countless hours were spent imitating TV heroes
in plots with pals featuring dramatic death throes
my memories of those early days
of childish beliefs and pretend plays
are still companions in my old age
and are still a pleasure to engage
my old legs with gimpy knees and gait
don’t allow me to move freely
because they ache
but it doesn’t stop me
from dancing in my mind
where I’m free
of earthly constraints
and physical limitations
that bring complaints
but I hear rock and roll
and keep on dancing
to please my soul!
the wise old Gray parrot lined up the young Senegal parrots
at the edge of the jungle’s lush canopy
on the sturdy limbs of a mahogany tree
It was time for the annual parrot parade
and its subsequent parrot serenade
featuring Red-bellied parrots
and Timneh parrots
and Cape parrots
and Bown-headed parrots
and yellow fronted parrots
and Niam-Niam parrots
and Meyer’s parrots
and Ruppell’s parrots
while the Burrowing parrots
watched from below.
very few people even know
about this fabulous show
where to be concise
is in paradise
if you follow the rowdy river’s route
for a day or two
there’s a place downstream
where you can take your canoe
and put it safely on a spot of land
so you can continue your quest
to see something grand
like the mighty mountains majesty
and towering waterfalls
as far as you can see
but beyond the waterfalls
is a mystery to me
there!
do you see it?
just over the horizon
of the deep dark sea
a magical city
with ramparts of clouds
in a rainbow colored shroud
this vision so far away
nature’s passion play
is not something you’re
going to see everyday
there!
do you see it now?
just over the horizon
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