The feelings of my attraction were so obtuse.
I knew he wouldn’t pick me, indigent, without foundation.
How could I convince him he needed to know me?
Any wrong move could be seen as egregious even if authentic.
It was a delicate matter.
How could I approach?
I would have to love from afar.
Consecrate with faith.
Hope for someone to mediate our introduction and,
Pray for his awakening.
When I was just a wee farm lad growin' up in Hoosier land,
There were many things about farm life I didn't quite understand!
One day I saw a neighbor leadin' a big bull down the gravel road.
I asked my dear old Pa about that and this is what I was told.
"Son, he's takin' that mean old bull to "service" a neighbor's cow."
The implications of that went over my tousled head then, but now,
I associate it with the "service" we git when dealin' with the IRS!
(Don't you think I handled a very delicate matter with a modicum of finesse!)
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
First the sound of feet outside
The clearing in hesitation run away & hide
Man
In a barrage of common place
He will leave his lasting trace
Through thoughts exposed in an opened door by willing to explore
Sounds in silence thoughts exposed
The new way exposed
Through timeless chatter in a thoughtful jest
A party of trampled midgets as on may negate
Some may even call this hesitation fate
In reluctance we can share a meal together no matter what the weather
Gone our the days we once liked to frolic in a haze
Instead today we are slowly drifting as in a mouse in its maze
To pour oil on a cut to swell
We live for self and hero's tell
In morning curtains open to let in the sun
We often run away from the fun
Shadows torn in delicate matter
Never once getting prepared to face the great here after?
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