Ride with me on my time machine to a different time and place
Return with me and let me see if I can put a smile upon your face
To the days of AM radio and the TV was black and white
To lying in a grassy field and counting stars at night
Popcorn and soda in the balcony at a Saturday matinee
Parades led by the High School Band on Decoration Day
Dressing up and going door to door on the night of Halloween
Cigarettes rolled in your shirt, pretending to be James Dean
Pep rallies before the football games, everybody stand and cheer
Going in the woods with your friends at night, sharing a quart of beer
That feeling inside, turning red, when she smiled at you at the dance
Wanting to kiss her goodnight, but you were afraid to take a chance
Playing chase tag at night in the neighborhood, hiding behind a tree
Holding hands with your first steady, so all your friends could see
Medicine Show at the end of town in a giant canvas tent
Saving pennies for a rainy day, fasting on candy for Lent
Going for a Sunday ride with Mom and Dad in the family car
Playing in the yard at night, putting lightning bugs in a jar
Drag racing on that long stretch of road, Chevy was hard to beat
Stealing peaches from a neighbor’s tree, always seemed so sweet
Riding bikes all over town, never knowing the meaning of fear
Identifying cars by their tail lights, make and model and year
News and Stooges at the theatre before the movie starts
Valentine’s day I love you written on tiny candy hearts
Easter bonnets and picking flowers for Mom on Mother’s Day
Opening day at the community pool the last weekend in May
Sock hop in the auditorium, collar up, trying to play it cool
Meeting friends at the usual place, everyday after school
Six for a quarter on the juke box, music that would move your soul
Return with me now to those glory days and the birth of rock and roll.
Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2009
There's a bench at the high school where I graduated
The wood is cracked, chipped and all weather faded
But in its prime, there each morning faces smiled hello greetings
And was always the agreed upon place, for after school meetings
Many then, lovers initials are carved upon her wood
Though young love didn't last like we thought it could
Also, many peace signs and let's stop Vietnam
Even, one I love John Denver and a, I rule at pac man
Under her bottom is petrified gum of every flavor
Stuck there, because gum in class was considered bad behavior
Like some people need but one name to be known
The Bench, was like a city of its very own....
Originally posted 3-19-2013, On A Bench Contest
Copyright © Donna Jones | Year Posted 2013
Now in my decline in the time of men
I remember way back then when I was ten,
when we lived in a shadow much greater
at the foot of the Mount and its dormant crater.
Where we'd climb and to the top race
like Hillary and Tenzing up the south face,
then on our backsides slide to the rocks below
from whence the lava used to flow.
Behold the old white house at 89 Owens Road,
the grass I with an old push blade mowed,
and where from my upstairs room
I saw the spring terraced flowers bloom.
Where outside we played cricket all summer long
and inside were the masters of ping pong!
In our living room my family and me
saw a moonlanding and a war on TV -
on our black and white set with blazin' toy guns
watching Bonanza and My Three Sons...
or perchance playing canasta as soon as I was able
and even a séance on the coffee table,
where spirits from the spirit world did roam
and truly spelled out to our guests "go home!".
When my birthday cake burnt ten candles
and I wore short pants and Roman sandals,
with my bag down Valley Road walking
past the shops on the way to school talking -
spending my lunch money licking my lips
eating aniseed wheels and jelly tips!
Where my mate lived above his mum's shoe store
and between us all was fair in love and war!
Listening to my new transistor all the while
tuned in to 1480 on top of the dial:
to the hip happening sounds of Radio Hauraki
in the gulf on a pirate ship called Tiri.
Till through the gates of my teacher and jailer:
Mrs Furner, Miss Gaiqui, and Mr Taylor;
and catch a glimpse of a vision in a cotton dress -
the girl of my restless dreams I confess!
Then before the bell sounded its morning ring
we'd be flying on the moari swing,
or games on the courts or running to shield
playing bullrush on the football field.
And behold, in class on his guitar my teacher
playing folk songs and exhorting like a preacher,
singing "where have all the flowers gone?
Young girls pick them every one..."
and "Oma rapeti...rabbit run, run, run"
or playing Maori stick games just having fun:
drawing native carvings and birds that can't fly,
reading about Hinemoa and Tutanekai.
Weaving flax and with hands of string
making diamonds and parachutes that cling,
or in single file marching from the school
with our towel and togs to the pool -
an Eden boy at the starters end ready to dive in
for a prized 50 metre certificate to win.
Then gather the class in the projection room
and gaze in the ceiling the stars illume:
where our Milky Way mural hung so surreal
as we sat and watched an old movie reel.
But soon the fun would turn to palpable fear
when all the class trembled to hear...
read to the children who were quiet as a mouse
was the Dental List for the Murder House!
Alas a fate worse than death - the whining drill
to bore and clean and to mercury fill;
where the needle sometimes dulled the pain
yet the screams of boys and girls remain.
After school in my uniform arrayed
I marched to the tune in the Boys Brigade!
And on weekends roaming the neighbourhood
in search of adventure as best we could,
climbing the hill to the construction site
of The Pines apartments at a great height.
On Guy Fawkes night from my pocket
lighting my firecrackers and my skyrocket -
armed and dangerous ready to throw
with red packs of Double Happys lit to blow.
And on night time mission on ninja patrol
detonatin' milk bottles - whoa! fire in the hole!
Or off to the Crystal Palace to catch a flick
lest my mother test my arithmetic.
At Eden Park when the mighty Auks played host
sitting with my mates behind the goalpost,
with my dad and brother at the track
in the birdcage and hearing the whips crack -
at Ellerslie in the Ladies Stand or Alexandra Park
with my Best Bets - my picks to mark.
And on the Sabbath beneath cross and spires
in Sunday School at old Greyfriars.
Now alas, in my decline in the time of men
I remember way back then when I was ten!
For the Way Back Then When I Was Ten contest.
Copyright © Keith Trestrail | Year Posted 2016
"I never travel without my diary - One should have something sensational to read"
...Oscar Wilde, 1891
30 May 48: I graduated from high school today now thank God I'm free!
No more doggone homework, perplexing algebra or teachers bugging me!
7 Jul 48: Enlisted in the Air Force today! Good Lord! What have I done!
The sarge said, "Forget Mom, Dad and Susie Q! You're now mine, my son!"
21 Oct 48: Finished basic training today with about a hundred other guys.
I thought it'd be more like a Boy Scout Camp! Boy, was I in for a surprise!
15 Feb 49: Graduated tech school at Fort Warren and sent to the Bermuda Isles.
Quite a change for a country boy! Water, water everywhere for miles and miles!
12 Oct 52: Was married tonight at Perrin AFB with Vera as my beautiful bride!
She was very pert and calm, but diary, I was somewhat nervous I must confide!
23 Aug 54: Our family grew by one today! Leanna, a little girl, my fondest wish!
She was measured by a nurse holding her by the heels! Just like measuring a fish!
15 Aug 55: Boarded a crowded troopship in New York and set sail for Morocco.
Was beset with a bit of mal de mer since the ship was wallowing to and fro!
17 Oct 57: Our little 'arab' Leslie was born today near Casablanca! What a dolly!
She has a hearty set of lungs, but that's OK, she's a healthy little dude, by golly!
11 Jan 68: Son Mark was born at the Air Force Academy and seemed a healthy tot!
9 Apr 68: Alas, we buried Mark today at Evergreen. Boy, do we miss him a lot!
24 Jun 71: My family and I arrived in Tokyo, Japan, to begin our three-year tour!
Japanese is foreign! For "good morning" do I say, "ohio gazamus" or "bon jour?"
1 May 74: Chaplain Porter notified me that I had been promoted to Chief!
Happy day, dear diary! I've reached the highest rank! What a blessed relief!
1 Aug 78: I retired today at Offutt AFB, after 30 wonderful years of service!
After wearing the 'blue suit' all those years, wearing civvies makes me nervous!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 3 in Constance La France's "The Diary" Contest - April 2011
Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2011
Some things I thought would never change -
it would always be "us three",
I try so hard to understand
why that wasn't meant to be.
The smiles, fun, and laughter;
the jokes we'd throw around,
Are now but distant memories
planted in the ground.
Only unlike seeds they do not wait
come spring to sprout anew,
They're trying to hide in the depths of my mind;
this year no flowers grew.
I had thought it would be like a rubber ball
and bounce right back to my grasp,
Yet I never had known that this friendship of ours
was made of fragile glass.
So when it came crashing down that day last month,
I almost didn't care,
For my perfect life had that perfect ball
that wouldn't need repair.
But the glass it cracked so harshly,
flinging pieces once so strong,
Could these sharp and hurtful shards
have been here all along?
I'm trying not to blame you,
but blame you I just might,
My pride is stubbornly in the way;
if I'm wrong I still am right.
For fairness we'll say we were both at fault,
And it could've ended there with a sorry that said
"I tried the best I could".
But the hurt took residence within you
until it overcame your heart
As the best friends since first grade
began to drift apart
I tried! I visited!
I texted! I called!
Only to receive unfriendly coldness
in the face of it all.
Not once did I text back a rude response
though I, too, ached with hurt
I forced on fake friendliness
while your remained curt.
Why didn't you inquire
about things on my end?
One who takes, but not gives,
do you call that a true friend?
Now instead of "us three",
I'm left with "us two"
But what's sadder than that
Is that you're left with...you.
You got lost there, in the place that whispered
"all is being lost",
But avoiding me just didn't work-
our paths were bound to cross.
So as we try our best to reconnect;
change craziness to sane,
I just want to say I'm sorry
for all the hurt and pain.
So the smile now, it's real today-
I'm not angry or upset,
But no glue in the world can fix up this crack
for I simply cannot forget.
Copyright © Sara Gold | Year Posted 2016
Pushed aside, location of home obscured, limited by isolation:
drifting aimlessly - subscribing to a voluntary incarceration.
Outcast by an alternative perspective, a differing sense of direction,
through a desire to develop resolutions to numerable imperfections.
Others recede into bad habits - shirking from every challenge,
placing emphasis on ignoring responsibilities; yet expecting a life that’s lavish.
So it’s hardly surprising when their dreams fall by the wayside,
having taken the easy road too often, they’re fighting against a landslide
to recuperate what was lost, or rather thrown away by being lax and care-free,
they’ve imposed upon themselves a limit, as to what they can achieve.
Armed with the powerful weapon of fore-sight, I clawed myself out of the rut,
but it’s little consolation for having to watch my friends get stuck.
Trying to avoid a patronising tone, I conceal myself into anonymity -
uninspired by foolish games, approaching every overture with timidity.
Wanting to tell them to change, to realise their mistakes,
but sometimes things are hardest to see when they stare you in the face.
It’s their life to live, and do so how they wish -
I just pray they realise: there’s more to it then “getting pissed”.
Copyright © Lee Price | Year Posted 2007
Sitting in class bored out of my mind,
If I give up, I'll be left behind.
I just don't 'cause that goes to show,
I have many amitious goals.
Maybe one day I'll be the president,
Or take care of unable residents.
Maybe one day I'll open my own business,
Or find the cure to a rare sickness.
Who knows what I'll really be,
But anyways, want some tea?
Copyright © Shaina Rodriguez | Year Posted 2015
Each child has talents and Dee always loved to skate
One night at the lake she was called up to the plate
The high school hockey team was “slip-sliding away”*
So call her a chauvinist; Dee wanted to play
But when the coach recruited her for the team
One boy offered a bottle of shaving cream
They couldn’t skate backward; Dee sure showed them how
Stealing their puck, she curtseyed and took a bow
Take it from Dee, men don’t like to be upstaged
By her free-flowing glide the boys were outraged
When it came time for the school’s holiday dance
To find a date, this skater hadn’t a chance
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011
For these which stand before you good parents and friends
Are embellished with all your dreams for futures to come
Dressed in alma mater robe, mortar hat and tassel now adorned
You have gathered as witness for this day of a dozen years longed
It is your hearts -with pride- as you watch and listen with both a smile and tear
For that so cherished name upon your lips anticipating
Awaiting the bursting applause with in your hearts
Viewing now the man whom you once held in your arms
As your graduate smiles and takes his just earned reward
Hail to thee- our alma mater- do the graduates stand and sing
Hail to thee – may we always remember the cost of this liberty
Copyright © Mark Goodson | Year Posted 2014
Of all the trials and test this year
A lot of nerves, a lot of fear
By the grace of God I’m here to tell
It all ended up going very well
If life is a journey, school is a maze
A wonderful way to spend your days
So much diversity, so much culture
Feels so good to no longer be a vulture
Picking scraps up off the bone
Heart encased in a block of stone
I simply love being tender and true
Like a billowy cloud in a sky so blue
Floating on air for the world to see
Like a peacock strutting proud as can be
Yet, forever humble and forever true
Eyes no longer red they’re clear and blue
No longer living all tired and funky
I kicked the crap up out of my monkey
Kid’s gather to me like chicks to a trough
I welcome them in I never shrug them off
Which is truly as strange as strange can be
I once would have said, “Get away from me”
“Nothing in me should be considered good”
“You’re looking for a hero, I’m no Robin Hood”
Today, I’m first to school and first in my seat
With exuberance for life, which can’t be beat
With kids gathering to me looking to study
Listening in awe to their gray headed buddy
I’m forever speaking on life and all that it entails
Guiding my younger friends down happy trails
Being very careful to not criticize or judge
You can’t help someone holding a grudge
I tell all the youngsters with a heart so true
I traveled one hell of a road to get to you
I have a single goal before I enter my grave
I want to teach you all how to not be slaves
Don’t let fears and addictions control your life
That’s an endless road of sorrow and strife
Make your dream and grab your star
Let the world see who and what you are
Whatever you do, do it with a smile
Life is truly a gift enjoy it for awhile
It feels so strange to feel so good
We all have it in us to be Robin Hood
I dedicate this poem to all the youngsters
who come over to my house to study. You
know, I never would have dreamed that I
would be considered a good example. It's
truly amazing what the Lord can do in our
lives. The correlation I'm speaking of with
Robin Hood; is that we all have it in us to
take from the bad and give to the good.
Copyright © Michael Jordan | Year Posted 2010
A is for algae, red, green, blue cells, soaking up sun, sliming teeth
B is for bacterial mat, clumping underneath, earliest born, never asleep
C is for coral reef, the place we all find cover or the sand parrotfish chew and release
D is for diatom, all seeded calcium, all float free, all denizens barely seen
E is for eelgrass, nursery meadows of the anchovy, and other browsers of green
F is for fan worm, filter feeder like a flower, 8000 species on which fish feed
G is for giant kelp, floating on bladders of air they’re forests of cold waters clean
H is for helmet, the royalty of snails who protect our feet, queen, emperor, king
I is for isopod, the chameleon crustacean, they color match what they eat
J is for jellyball, or cannonball jellyfish, not upside down or moon, avoid their heat
K is for keyhole limpet, favorite food of ochre stars, will erect its own wall
L is for laver, the sea lettuce of nori, it swirls red skirt as ocean falls
M is for mermaid’s purse, the sack of the skate whose yolk keeps them alive
N is for nerite, the prisoner striped snail of the rocky zone as numerous as a hive
O is for oyster drills, the snails that slurp oysters and use them to lay eggs
P is for pleurobranch, a sea slug answer for oranges, with one active leg
Q is for quahog, the bivalve seaman who can survive eating the mud
R is for rove beetle, the one waiting to snatch the unwary beach hopper for good
S is for saxitoxin, those red tides produced by mating that can paralyze humans
T is for tubular sponge, they squish, bore and encrust as space lends
U is for urchin, those spiny skinned balls, no eyes or noses but dig food in sand
V is for Venus, Music Volutes dined or Vampire Squids skimming along land
W is for whelk, not the musically inclined, but the slow moving snail in a shell
X is for X and a half, the six rayed star, hungry for anything on the half shell
Y is for yucca, blooming on the beach, they bloom nice and tolerate the sand
Z is for Zostera marinara, the address of eel grass when they're feeling grand
All of this green life is what crunches, stinks, dries and slips underfoot
The rest that find the housing and dining compatible means someone’s on the look.
Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper | Year Posted 2013
My younger years - I don't know how
At six and seven folks had a cow!
The journey through the mind begins
Do not think the devil wins!
In middle school has a crash
Doing some things rather rash!
In high school had good grades
Then they dropped - almost like Hades!
Drove and walked many a mile
Just to see myself and smile!
God rescued me and set me free
From a thing called apathy!
Love God's plan - it makes me smile
To think of things that are worthwile!
I might have had to just stop college
But in experience have great knowledge!
Born to help others - don't you see?
I think it is reality!
Copyright © Joshua Lacey | Year Posted 2010
That’s not my elephant, the second graders said to their teacher.
Elephants are too big; they’re not our kind of creature.
We like fierce alligators with thick-green armored scales;
long pointed teeth, strong jaws, and spiked whipping tails.
We like chimpanzees that live high in forest trees
that swing from branches and hang by their hairy knees.
What good is a flop-eared elephant who recites
the whole “Constitution” and “Bill of Rights”?
The teacher looked puzzled; somewhat perplexed,
she wasn’t quite sure of what to say next.
Elephants never forget the teacher returned;
their huge brain stores everything they’ve learned.
Ella the elephant just stood there in a striking pose.
Well, can you suck spaghetti up with your nose?
Copyright © 2011 By Caryl S. Muzzey
Copyright © Caryl Muzzey | Year Posted 2010
It was September of 1960 and we were growing
Elvis sang "It's Now or Never" anticipation showing
New kids in town for our Freshman year
Our last at St. Jerome's, adulthood near.
We hung out at the Coffee Cup on Berwick Street
Five Point Diner and Palma were sweet
We never dreamed of growing old
Back when we wore blue and gold.
Sophomore year brought us to Saint Ann
Not old enough yet to be called a man
Hitch hike to the My Place and Bowling Alley
Travelled around the Panther Valley
Weekends looking for a brand new thrill
Going to the Coffee Shop in Summit Hill
On the Juke box "Runaround Sue" and "Cathy's Clown"
If "Rumble" came on we'd quickly leave town
Building memories as each day would unfold
Back when we wore blue and gold.
62 saw the Four Seasons singing "Sherry"
Our next two years would be with Saint Mary
Pep rallies in the court yard, who could forget
Sneak down to Henry's for a cigarette
Laughing, joking, we were only sixteen
Drop another nickel in the pinball machine
Flip a coin for a pool game, choose who will rack
Fan buses for away games, have a smoke in the back
Lou Christie sang "Two Faces Have I "
"The End of The World " made Skeeter cry
It was 63 and our time was near
We were starting our senior year
Unsure of what our future would hold
Back when we wore blue and gold
November came and some of us cried
The Friday President Kennedy died
Before the storm there is always a calm
Trouble brewing in Vietnam
In 64, invaded by another land
The Beatles wanted to hold our hand
The school would be one next year we were told
Back when we wore blue and gold
June arrived, graduation day
A time to rejoice, a time to pray
To change the world, thoughts so bold
Back when we wore blue and gold.
Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2015
don’t hide it
the lunch thief would say
in school yesterday
bullies in school
those days so cruel
adult bullies are the worse
some of them use deadly force
Copyright © Robert Heemstra | Year Posted 2013
They told me from the time I was two
“One day prince charming is coming for you!”
They made me read these inspiring fairy tales
About mermaids, evil step mothers and
servants whose childhoods were unfair,
They told me that even if I was troubled and had to put up with a lot,
That someday my adversaries would have to surrender
to me and scrub my pots,
They told me I wasn’t alone; animals would be my friend
So I tried that, then one night they bit me,
I suffered another tragic end
They said to always be kind-hearted that’s what all man want,
When I got into high school I found out no one wanted to talk to the fat girl in the corner who ate chocolate glazed croissants
They told me to find seven dwarfs, a crew of little people
My school only had four of them
Their names were; scuba, geek freak, muffin top and meatball
In eleventh grade they said, "ask God for a fairy godmother to get a dress for the prom"
I went to a Catholic Church, got one for 75 cents,
with red stripes and one missing arm
They said after graduation the wise thing to do would be to go to college
and Not rush into getting married
So I got knocked up my senior year by the school janitor,
His name is "Prince Larry!"
I dropped out a month before school ended and you’ll never guess where I reside
I am currently employed doing Disney parties, where I get to dress up as all the great characters who told me those fabulous lies.
Got to Love fairy tales…
By: Sabina Nicole
Copyright © Sabina Nicole | Year Posted 2013
Copyright © Volodymyr Knyr | Year Posted 2014
life's many theories
may cause many worries
is there a god?
is it a fraud?
am I going to burn in hell?
since my chocolate bars won't sell
Copyright © Robert Heemstra | Year Posted 2016
He was graced with long life as the work he required,
A present flame, aft he retired,
He deepened the souls that sat before him,
And made them express with written decorum.
He read their assignments with special attention
That challenged and called forth youth's finest rendition.
He opened the door to a life well read,
His students entangled in Baalat's web.
Gazing back through the specularium of time
One saw an intellect so immensely fine
That it slightly abashed those of higher grade,
His light joining their lights where others fade.
Moving on one lingered a bit in the past,
Still meeting challenges from his intellect, so vast.
That it scarce was contained
In the role for him framed.
His soul now borne upon the Stygian Lake
Leaves proper grammar trailing in its wake;
This gentle muse vanished in the night,
The curtains closed, doused the light.
No need for stately obelisk oe'r his bier
To greet mournful pilgrims once a year;
For though he'll be long gone,
The phallic symbol, he loved so, lives on.
Copyright © Boruch Fishman | Year Posted 2012
In Nursing School
In nursing school they have us learn all the proper medical words,
Because in Greek and Latin we defecate, but we never make turds,
And what's worse than learning about all these dreadful diseases
Is forgetting my English to replace it with obfuscating medicaleses,
Lest we forget that great chemical known as adenosine triphosphate
Which is the powerhouse of the cells, or did she say an exudate?
And though I've been to India and seen the river Ganges,
I never knew my fingers were really called phalanges,
And we must learn about colitis, encephalitis and diverticulitis,
But I hope these germs don't decide to get up and bite us.
You can't find out a lot about someone by palpating the patella,
Not even if the patient is female, or if he is a fella.
And we must distinguish anemia, diarrhea and gonorrhea
From the almost identical condition known as leukemia.
Sex is one thing, I think, not one of us has time for,
For after school it's off to work until you're blind or
Wishing you had never heard of cellular necrosis,
Not to mention the hundred kinds of psychoses and neuroses.
And then there's that other major hurdle called getting adequate funding,
And if you can't get a loan or a grant they'll have you do the plumbing.
It seems the clinical locations are never really near ya,
In fact most of them are deep inside Siberia,
And if out in the Sun recall that your skin can get tumorous,
For the study of medicine is serous – very, and hardly ever humerus.
Your medical books will have you believe you've every disease known
From autophobia to an ecchymosis to cerumen on the bone.
But at least there are no bullies insisting we are all big wimps,
For studying things like urine, saliva, bile, blood and lymph;
And if there's one more part with the outlandish name of buccinator,
I think I'll lose it all and become a hallucinator.
Copyright © Gawaine Ross | Year Posted 2015
It’s back to school once again
The sound of students are reigning
Chatting there, chatting everywhere
Excitement in their hearts filled in the air
Laughing with joy as they welcome new beginning
New friends, new classmates they’re introducing
The thought of learning made them smile
New knowledge, new adventure, new style
Wipe away the sadness, here comes happiness
As they faced new challenges of being a student
May 16, 2013
Copyright © MariaDiding SajSam | Year Posted 2013
It is always nostalgic to think of past,
Especially our school days granting from first.
When I look back at those days,
A smile automatically comes to my face.
As far as my classes are concerned,
I am not among the brightest student turned.
But the teachers never differentiate among the student,
Rather they encourage weaker student's.
But, I can certainly tell you that,
I see myself in a cowboy hat.
As no one in this world is completely happy,
But intensity of happiness from person to person may vary.
Copyright © pranay devnath | Year Posted 2015
A boy moved into our small town, lived just down the way,
His British accent and lovely white smile, just made my day.
He invited me to the Easter dance and bought me a corsage
From beginning to end, the whole scene seemed like a mirage.
I wore a new white and yellow dress my Mom sewed for me,
She placed yellow ribbons in my hair, they matched perfectly.
We walked hand in hand to the dance talking about school,
Meanwhile my stomach was churning trying to stay so cool.
We swayed to Hey Jude, I thought I was in heaven for sure,
Yet scared of what would happen next - was I too immature.
Then the song ended, if there were others there I was unaware,
He moved his hands up my arms and touched my lips with care.
My expectations were high, thought I’d know love right away,
But I felt nothing, my hopes dashed, we broke up the next day.
Written August 11, 2012
For Craig Cornish’s contest
Placed second in contest
Copyright © Lee Ramage | Year Posted 2012
I still remember that old barn so red; a center point of my youth;
Pickle barrels in the cellar; cows on the ground floor and hay stored in the loft.
I rode the John Deere a thousand times in and out of her wide, always opened doors;
Plowing fields near and far, but with her redness never out of my distant sight.
She housed the cows we milked and the tools we used throughout the long, hard day;
And, she was our playground on those summer days when chores were done by noon.
I remember her beautiful, natural smell that our city cousins abhorred;
And, I knew every nook and cranny that I could hide in to get away from their whines.
We would swing on the rope out of the loft, landing on piles of freshly cut hay;
And, just lay quietly in the night with a cool summer breeze passing through her doors.
It was in this red haven that I birthed my first calf and learned how to set a broken leg;
And, it was high in the loft with my high school sweetheart that I first became a man.
The farm that housed that wondrous red barn is now a mall parking lot;
But, the memories of lessons learned within are forever blazoned upon my mind.
Copyright © Joe Flach | Year Posted 2010
I wear a coverlet of haze, from those summers I remember,
where my barefoot toes touched fragrant grass, that withered in September
6/12/13 for Andrea
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2013
The dream is still within
How painful high school has been!
Should I drop out? Scream and shout?
What in the world is life about!
My existance may seem
To be but a dream
But still have love's light
I won't give up this fight!
Copyright © Joshua Lacey | Year Posted 2010
This mighty school, this boiling stress,
Supposedly makes me the best of the best.
But how can I be as good as they say,
When I barely have the attention to pay?
From the dark of the morning, to the dark of the night,
I am constantly struggling to keep on the right.
I arrive their so early, and return home so late,
Only to find myself a fish caught on bait.
I feel like I’m breaking this one crucial rule;
And falling behind in this thing they call school.
Copyright © Josh Adams | Year Posted 2013
The day was hot as red rose sunny
We gathered eggs from holes like a bunny
Down to the grocer’s store we went
Sold our eggs funds on candies spent
With grandma abed off comes the coat
On goes the sneakers shaped like a boat
Big brother goes racing up to the gate
The youngest trying to be quiet shout wait
Round the corner comes the show truck
Reels of movies in boxes securely tuck
Hercules Ben Hur High Noon Dracula and such
We saw them o’er and o’er he hadn’t much
Big brother hops on the truck going up the hill
The youngest and I ran behind we know the drill
Hopping onto trucks is a skill perfected by boys
We girls had to be content playing with toys
Inside the show house the movie starts
Everyone must hear our throbbing hearts
Written Sept. 8 2012
For Craig's contest: Summer Fun
Copyright © Joy Wellington | Year Posted 2012
When my son was young and so very, very wild…
I loved him dearly for he was my child.
But I feared the drugs, alcohol, and friends he did keep.
I knew they would destroy him, as I found my Eyes do weep.
We found a private High school with new peers to seek.
Miraculously, He found his own way back, and to college he did leap.
He chose a college and fraternity far away, as my eyes blurred again.
But the day he was on his own, became the best that’s ever been.
His fraternity became his brothers, and advice they dished out.
Study time became important, with gentlemanly behavior devout.
I’ll thank them each, in the leadership and help they all showed.
I’ll thank my son for growing up, and for becoming who we now know.
Community service brought blood drives, and teaching inner city kids.
They worked on their fraternity house, reclaiming it from the skids.
All parties had designated drivers to take every body home, all right.
They gathered clothes for the homeless to brighten up their life.
They built Homes For Humanity for to work he was never adverse.
Then, to add to the rest, he continued to work to become a nurse.
He put himself through college working in a hospital and ambulance.
He had learned a reverence for life, happiness, and yes, even patience.
My wild, wild son has found purpose in life and peace at long last.
And again my eyes do weep… This time with love so vast...
Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2011
By Franklin Price
Elementary grades took long to come
Could not wait to get me some
Five other siblings went before
So I knew a little of the score
Was not supposed to talk all day
Recess the time to yell and play
Grades were “E” and “S” and “U”
The last not good, strove for the two
Grades were given to perform
The “S” was good and was the norm
The “E” was over and above
The “U” not even mom could love
Then “N” was thrown into the mix
A grade that we could try to fix
The “N” improvement needed there
A second chance was more than fair
For attendance, conduct and learning work
On reporting cards these grades did lurk
I worked real hard, did well on two
For conduct my talking got a “U”
The teacher said, “who's talking there?”
I knew if I told she'd make me care
To protect myself I could not tattle
My butt might get the corporal paddle
Wasn't long 'til I wasn't loud
Talked quietly within the crowd
And when the year end bell did ring
Had “E” or “S” for everything
Was not that smart but listened well
To learn what teachers had to tell
As for the conduct, I'll tell you what
I never enjoyed a paddled butt.
Copyright © Franklin Price | Year Posted 2016