A cool spring in fall
ushers clear sparkling water--
Adrift on a beach, the tide creeps o'er the Boneyard-- withering away
The peaks were fearless
The winds were steady
The world was rushing by.
The clouds churned
About the mountain islands
Anchored to an endless depth.
But when darkness settles
The sky salutes the sea
Until the two enlist the stars.
Do not descend the dune.
A thousand feet of uphill sand could easily be your ruin.
The Sleeping Bear will soon awake.
He’ll cause your arms and legs to ache.
You’ll wish you never saw the lake,
for now you sing a sorry tune.
Father Time’s chisel
and Mother Nature’s palette
Father Time sculptures…
Mother Nature murals…
Light as a feather
riding the thermal currents
’til the heavens melt
Riding a feather
in the wind beyond nature’s
gentle hand, I play.
When our day is done,
and sun surrenders to night,
the colors take flight.
At Boulders Beach, on False Bay along the Cape Peninsula of South Africa, within Table Mountain National Park…
stands a boardwalk that showcases a free-roaming colony of African penguins.
When they are not busy nesting,
or caring for their hatchlings…
they are preening,
and standing watch…
over the rookery.
Some African penguins may gather in small groups before setting off to hunt for fish,
while others are content to surf the shoreline,
always wary of hungry seals…
who would easily prey on unsuspecting penguins, ready to rip open their bellies for the fish they have recently swallowed.
Ahh, the abbreviated life of an African penguin…
that being here…
or being there…
is neither here
should I care
if I never dare
To be clear–
that far or near,
I may be unaware
if I only stare
On a cloudy day…
walking along the boardwalk…
a white heron waits…
I took a stroll
and spied a tool
that looked real cool–
where taffy pulled
around a spool.
I pulled a stool
to watch this jewel.
And like a fool
my spittle drolled.
But there’s a rule
recalled from school:
That life is full
of soles with holes
whose souls are whole.
So ’round it folds
a to and fro,
the taffy flows
to fuel a flue
and form a glue.
A stroll along the pier
with seagulls, oh so near,
that roost before they scare–
then quick they take to air,
for what it is they fear
shall always disappear,
because there’s nothing there,
yet soon the boards are bare.
the Thanksgiving meal that takes days to prepare,
and the ease of slipping into a digestive coma
just from the aroma–
of roasted turkey, the stuffing, the cranberry relish,
and all the assortments designed to embellish.
But the moment our family sits down to feast
the hunger takes over
with no time to savor
the melange of food flavors,
and sooner than later,
there’s none left to eat.
Photo credit: (Carlos Barria/Reuters)
From too much rain to bother honoring the dead.
I don’t give a shit.
Those…NATO allies that I dread–
keep me bawlin’…
So I just did me some talking to my sons.
And I said, “I didn’t like the way Dems got things done–
Winning at the polls.
Those…losses are falling on my head,
they keep fallin’…”
But there’s one thing…I know.
The Blues they sent to beat me
Just defeat me.
It won’t be long,
Subpoenas now step up to greet me.
Democrats keep falling on my head.
But that doesn’t mean the House will soon be turning Red.
Winning’s not for me,
‘Cause, I’m never gonna stop the wave with complaining.
I’ll cop a plea.
It terrifies me.
It won’t be long ’till prison opens up to greet me.
Bad vibes keep falling on my head.
But that’s just karma coming ‘round on me, I dread…
Mueller’s got the key.
‘Cause, I’m never gonna stop the probe by complaining.
I’ll drop a tweet,
’cause I’m President Cheat!
Thanks to Original Songwriters: Burt Bacharach / Hal David
While enjoying my morning breakfast, and catching up on some classic poetry, I decided on a mash-up, which seemed entirely appropriate at the moment.
Inspired by Oliver Wendell Holmes’ Old Ironsides*
So, eat my toasted bagel now!
Soon may I reach thru wrap.
‘Cause many a tooth awaits to chew
this morsel from the sack;
Inside, I whiffed the buttered carbs
And yearned the content’s nut;–
But the paper bag in my eager hand
Revealed a tear somewhat!
My meal, once hot from oven’s heat,
Which baked the risen dough,
Where yeast was bubbling through the mix,
And grains were ground. Ergo,
Constant kneading the rubb’ry mass
And proof the crusted skin,
The bagels of the batch shall rise–
The essence of a win!
Oh, woeful that my ragged bag
erodes against my touch;
Construction dooms my marv’lous meal,
And so, becomes my crutch;
Drops through the rip, my toasted roll
Damn every filthy crime!
And gift it to the trove of germs—
The goodness and the grime.
When the fog lifts
and the sand rifts
have been left behind
by a vanishing tide,
the water fowl will feast–
at the very least–
on a diet they find
which can no longer hide.
What appears to be a giant reptile hovering high above my yard,
casting a scary shadow across my sun-drenched grass…
is no more than a harmless lizard and an optical canard,
revealed by pulling focus on the screen beyond my window glass.
When showing family the sights of St. Augustine the first time around,
there are so many tried and true options that abound.
Naturally, driving onto Vilano Beach becomes the main outdoor attraction,
where short legs wade long lengths across silky, sandy satisfaction.
The Alligator Farm is another familiar and likely choice,
where eager grandchildren are apt to rejoice…
at a place where rescued reptiles and denizens…
savor a seasonal delicacy,
and feathered friends…
are likely to take up full-time residency.
The Castillo de San Marcos gunnery platoon…
provides a cannon blast from the past very close to high noon.
And Anastasia Beach State Park’s estuarine channel
offers a vigorous workout with a kayak paddle.
Or how ’bout a free ferry crossing Matanzas Bay…
to inspect Fort Matanzas,
and its cannon array.
Then again, not withstanding the two-hour drive to Kennedy Space Center,
there’s a universe of exhibits to explore,
and The World’s Largest Space Shop to enter.
But when summer’s heat and humidity just…won’t…allow…another…step,
and when it’s subsequently rainy–as most afternoons are likely to get–
the chosen activity must absolutely meet
the standards of two curious kids, and satisfy their sweet teeth.
Happily, such a happening exists for the young and the grown,
and can be found at the artisan chocolatier, Whetstone.
The tour informs you of its elaborate process and technique…
But realistically, we came for the chocolate samples we could eat.
Yet unlike the follies of Lucy and Ethel…
our guide served five tastings,
and each one was special.
For seven days our family wandered throughout St. Augustine town,
with plenty leftover to experience for the next time around.
The tree frogs are out in full force at nightfall.
A cacophonous chorus of tens of thousands of croaking creatures bask in the sticky humidity after a brief, familiar rainfall.
They sing a familiar refrain a capella with a delicate vibrato…
To celebrate the moon’s debut over a thick glade of pines, live oaks, and palmetto.