He stamps the ice beneath his feet
Fallen leaves, gifted from the trees clinging to his soles
Softening the thud of clumping boots
Patterns shimmer in the fading light
As he trudges up the path
A reveller hoots
Somebody laughs
A drunk is haloed in the street lamp’s torpid glow
Echoes of himself; of seasons long ago
Surely the decorations were much brighter
Surely the streets were full of singing
Red robins; church bells gaily ringing
Fragrant pine and holly
Those were the seasons to be jolly
Couples kissing ‘neath the mistletoe
Santa bellowing: “Yo ho ho,”
Of course there was proper snow
Not damp and mist
And rain
It’s plain
They’d got Christmas all wrong
Again!
His feet begin to glide
On frost mimicking snow
On his face a grin
He sails through his gate
Never too late to recapture
The rapture......
Of an illicit skate
Cletus considered himself an expert angler, handy with reel and rod.
He'd landed ever'thing from wily rainbow trout to North Atlantic cod.
He'd fished the streams, rivers and lakes from sea to shinin' sea,
But he met his Waterloo on an ice fishin' expedition as we shall see!
He bought a tidy little fishin' shack that was really very nifty,
That he could haul aboard his pickup, a beat-up old Ford One-fifty.
He purchased a parka, gloves and boots to weather the fiercest storm,
And took his pals Jim Beam and Jack Daniels along to help keep him warm!
He drove upon the ice and set up his shack on a North Dakota reservoir,
Settled back anticipatin' a nibble on his line and then he lit a fine cigar.
He took a snooze but was awakened by a growin' rumblin' sound.
At that he pulled on his boots and got up to take a look around.
Alas, a huge crack in the ice was creepin' inexorably t'ward his Ford!
He espied a beckonin' floe passin' by and quickly jumped aboard!
Cletus shivered as he saw his truck and the shack sink in a trice!
"Damn", he mused, "I reckon I misjudged the thickness of the ice!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
Days and nights
spinning out like a checkerboard quilt
Dancers on thin ice
We move through the veils of time
We move in the dark night
like moths around a light
Days where the sun shines so bright
Leave us to contemplate our plight
Dancers on thin ice
we are fragile and alone
in the depths of the Milky Way
The night sky is filled with pinpoints of light
Our dreams are the blanket
we use to cover ourselves
keep us safe and warm
The cold winds will inevitably come
Dancers on thin ice
We survive as best we can
Knowing all the time
that "love is the answer"
Aware .....
Did someone see
My butt is sore
Did someone see
Now I'm sure both yellow and blue
Did someone see
I look around quickly
Did someone see
I wish I could shout loud
Did someone see
I get up in a hurry
Did someone see
I wet my butt
Did someone see
18.01.2013
A-L Andresen :)
Scratch the surface
like a skaters blade
dancing and gliding
graceful in the movement
of which
alters
the perfection
of smooth untouched coldness
to find
icy particles
crushed together.
Allow it to melt once again.
Let the motions
of the moon
guide you through
the bitter years
There's no escaping
the scythe of the Grim
Reaper
but before you learn
the truth about the end
Dance your dance!
I know, I know
that you are
dancing on thin ice
but even while lights
you can move gracefully on the floor
or in a garden (if you are lucky enough
to be in one)
Defy time and
dance to the music
of the celestial
orchestra
only you
can carve
your initials into stone
Fleeting rhythms
and fleeting years
but you see through the haze
you'll see the truth
when it comes upon you
and as it approaches
be ready
for it enters softly
like a kitten walking
behind its mother
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