Scintilla experienced an eerie foreboding
the house at 125 Klondike Street felt unsafe
she sensed that it had brought doom to occupants
she was shaking her head no when her husband said “we’ll take it.”
She took him aside and explained her feelings, but he would not budge.
Something about it called to him as fiercely as she was repulsed by it.
Within five years they had experienced a fire, a flood, and a divorce.
Scintilla gave her husband the house and the equity.
All she wanted was to survive, to get out with her life.
Her odd immediate premonition came to fruition.
Her husband passed away from Covid-19 two months later.
Their children paid attention to her forebodings after this.
you can feel his smile before you actually see
The grin on his face where others frown might be
He is the happiest most confident mushroom faerie
Whose name is Klondike McVey McVery
If you do not believe in faeries, you will not see him of course.
He is invisible to bigots, naysayers, and people who force.
But if your heart is open, and your kindness is easy to see
Klondike McVey McVery will come sit on your knee.
Daughter of fortune
She is the daughter of a woman who found passionate
love in Paris with an opera singer; now lives in her brother’s
house and knows, in the end, life is about a haven of romance
is going to last to the end of life.
The daughter loves a man of modest means; her love is boundless
he feels he has to find riches to be worthy of her love.
When she hears, her beau has gone to Klondike, she sets sail
to join him there, so her adventure begins.
I’m reading a novel by Isabel Allende, a book about a woman’s life,
what a woman does, how a woman feels about love, more profound
than men perceive, who, in this novel, appear in the background.
Of men, who are fierce, yet, loving but need a woman’s care.
Clarification
I don’t know how the novel ends as I have only read half
the book; but it is not a Barbara Cartland trivia, where the secretary
of an estate agent, falls in love with the dentist who has his
practice on the second floor; it is a proper love story.
What would you do, if it was asked of you
Would you give up everything, or remain true
Would you make the sacrifice?
Chance your fate and roll the dice
Sign away your life and morals
Sitting back to rest on laurels
No reward for any good you’ve done
Knowing after this, you’ve lost, not won
Such a brief moment of pleasure
In trade for eternity of foul you cannot measure
Could it possibly be a swap of worth
With so many hours of good put in on this earth
Yet now I put my wants ahead of need
Lick my lips and prepare for my stupid greed
Shake the hand, sign the contract
Finalize our deal, mine and Satan’s pact
You never know what will be your ultimate price
You say you don’t have one? Heed my advice.
Everyone does, and in it, he will revel
That’s how I ended up in a deal with the devil
That is my answer to life’s most notorious question
And it’s a fact, just to mention
That selling my soul is exactly how far
I would go……….. for a Klondike bar.
What would YOU do-O-o-O-o?
what I wouldn’t give for a Klondike bar
walking a mile would not be too far,
but going uphill would be too much
going that far is beyond my touch
I would settle for a Hoodsie of a trade
if I didn’t have to make that grade
a popsicle wouldn’t do, I want the best
but getting there I would need to rest
perhaps I would pass an ice cream truck
stopping half way would be just my luck
going that distance is fine for what I want
I could then have both in half the jaunt.
Oh, you did not know Mrs. Klondike said.
Haughty, uppity, not nice in the least.
The festival has been moved and renamed.
The Aprillstica has been re-named?
No way!
I was horrified, shocked.
As my Aunt Bee was one of the original Villageonians,
I felt she should be bothered immediately.
“I know,” she sang gaily, in an unknown way into the phone.
“It was my idea.”
Her idea!
Now I was truly confused.
Had she gotten her pills mixed up again?
My Aunt Bee has not sounded this happy since 1971
When she married the newest “love” of her life who
Was her eighth husband, and a shyster like the others.
I quickly drove to Springton Nursing Home to see what was up.
“This is Harold,” she said in a voice I barely remembered.
A sing-songy, happy, uplifting voice.
Harry had initially had the idea to change Aprillstica Festival
To Marchatillion Festival.
Well, then, okay by me.
She is ninety-six after all, and running out
of charm.
I am a wedding planner, and
frankly, although I too am a Villageonian,
business has been slow….
She has an air about her, and
a soul that I admire;
a heart as pure as Klondike gold,
and words that so inspire.
Like rose of pink in morning mist,
her petals have a glow;
she’s like a star in distant night,
her light the way does show.
The care she has for others shows
and sets this rose apart;
her poetry is light and fresh,
the whispers from her heart.
February 19, 2019
the men of the north come will ye
the sons of the south come to thee
seeking riches of Freya's tears
some never find it and some take years
some get sick and soon may die
others give up and still many try
all are looking for the thing that glows bright
the mineral of greed that keeps men up at night
with it who knows what you can acquire
but once you have it, you seek lower and higher
satisfies for but a short period of time
till it is all gone and your left with but a dime
you'll want more till your very rich
and that greedy ache becomes a constant itch
so keep on digging, digging for that gold
by the time anyone stops they'll be dead or old
keep that shovel up and never stop
not until exhaustion makes you drop
if gold is that important, worth your life
then keep up the greed, keep up the strife
gold is what has made people go bad
and leaves the heart poor and sad
places are scarred, and lives are lost
if only they knew gold wasn't worth that cost
klondike solitaire
devil won't play fair
red on black black on red
playing never a dread
it beats lonliness
without any mess
Limerick: Once a Politician on hunger strike
Once a Politician on hunger strike
Dreamed of juicy steaks Champagne and Klondike
Meantime ate humble pie
And promised not to die:
So they fed him caviar and the like!
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
All For A Klondike Bar!
I would sail the mighty blue sea,
Tame a puffy green dragon to flip like a flea,
With the Queen have tea and crumpets dressed as a drag queen,
Run the Boston Marathon without wearing a thing,
Ride a hundred camels through downtown Miami,
Become the pink bottle Genie,
Drive across the US in mobile hot dog wienie.
Wear an itsy bitsy bikini on TV,
all with the hopes of biting into a cold crisp,
creamy Klondike bar!
The're heading north for gold
The last great rush unfolds
In the sub-artic winter cold-
Along the Chilkoot trail
Many thousands were to fail.