golden sun rises
through webworm's web on pecans....
crows wait harvest
A cold northwesterly breeze
Whips the nearly naked trees
A few pecans still tip the top
Unreachable by squirrels
Even if they hop
He sits at his stump-desk
as though the forest appointed him
keeper of its minor truths~
wire-rimmed glasses catching the low light,
plaid bowtie knotted with intention.
The wooden laptop waits,
open to whatever thought
the morning has not yet named.
Coffee steams beside the inkwell,
papers scattered like fallen leaves
he has already begun to translate.
Even the landline, absurd in its presence,
seems to understand
that calls here are rare
but always important.
The uncracked pecans rest beside his papers,
not symbolic, simply present~
a reminder that some work
starts with the smallest,
most ordinary labor of the hands.
He studies the papers strewn around him,
each marked with the faint trace
of earlier attempts at order.
For a moment he simply reads,
letting the work tell him
where to begin.
The Weeping Willow is no longer there.
In my heart I'm saying, 'It's just not fair'.
Missing is the cool shade that she shared.
Around her, loving kindness filled the air.
As kids, we earned money from Pecan Trees.
Those strong Autumn winds were our friends.
Pecans were kids' money-maker back then;
And money from pecans was never wasted.
Chinaberry trees were very plentiful and popular.
We used the hard berries as bullets in slingshot.
Memory of Pecan Tree goodies, so tasty;
Weeping Willows, so cooling and shady;
Chinaberry Trees, so filled with fun;
Kid-loving fun, second to none.
My title - the culmination of a recent ad on TV
from a company well-respected in my home town.
They offer a nonpareil chance for those who think "free".
I take issue, feel vouchsafed and venture to frown.
"No interest, No payments for twenty-four months"
Enjoy the wide-open window of opportunity.
A bit incredible which makes one suspicious at once
this sugary-sweet offering must have finer print to see.
It brings divinity to mind, remember that puffy treat
made of whipped egg whites and sugar, maybe pecans.
Unsubstantial candy, so-named to sound so sweet --
My advice, be sure you check out all the pros and cons.
"We don't want your money!" (at least for right now)
"Go buy a pony!" how whimsical does that sound?
Ponies need space, 1-2 acres at least and lots of chow;
or you can board them at costs which truly astound?
I've gone on long enough about commercial fare.
A rarity once in a blue moon, too good to be true;
hidden catches and scams are out there everywhere.
It's the teasing of viewers with proposals beaucoup.
I came upon a recipe
That wasn’t a mistake,
Though it was for something strangely called
A hummingbird (huh?) cake.
I glanced at the ingredients –
The list was far from brief
But there weren’t any hummingbirds,
Which was a huge relief.
With pineapple, bananas,
Sugar, cinnamon and flour,
Eggs, vanilla, oil and pecans
It sounds great, but gets its power
From its cream cheese butter frosting,
Which must add the perfect touch
To a sweet dessert that many people
Must like very much.
The cake is from Jamaica
So its name, from what I’ve heard,
Is a tribute to, you might have guessed,
The nation’s namesake bird.
Maybe someday I will try it,
But I know when that day comes,
I’ll be grateful knowing there was no
Ingredient that hums!
Yes I have no bananas
but I've got a cashew or two
and a lovely bunch of coconuts
walnuts quite a few
an armful of almonds
plus peanuts for the zoo
oodles of hazelnuts
or filberts if you will
a plethora of pecans
pistachios are here still
no ands ifs or buts
I'd give my nuts
to you each morning
if I had my way
again in the evening
and at the end of the day
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
maple leaves hemorrhage onto the pavement
hurried commuters wear wool coats
squirrels dash about, burying acorns
metallic tang of dying light
decay clotting the sky’s vein.
I pocket pecans, hard and cold.
frost fingerprints the morning grass
geese stitch southward through the clouds
gold leaves turn to gangrene
Hershey’s kisses wrappers blow against gravestones
October's blusteriness arrives:
a handwritten sky smudged gray.
earth exhales: damp soil, crushed leaves.
October dying beautifully.
_____________________________
_____________________________
444444 equals 24 trotters
6 heads
4 livers
4 hearts
6 kidneys
2 hams
Various scraps
5 hour boil time
Onions
Carrots
Greenpeppers
Garlic
Thyme
Basil
Bayleaves
2 cups of port
Rubbed sage
Salt
Pepper
_______________________________________________
Brunch Day
Sunday morning scrapple/ bacon and mushrooms
Scrambled eggs and cheese
Toast/butter and honey
Hash browns
Jam/jelly
Coffee
Beet, carrot,orange/vodka
Strawberry tart
Butternut squash tart/pecans
_____________________________________
______________________________________
Darling I may never have told you
Ain't nothing right without you
You're the star of the show
My leading lady
Keeping you happy ain't no chore
I love you
I guess I wanted you to know
Sometimes I get a little busy
we spend so much time apart
here a little something to make you smile
It comes straight from my heart
Said I love you
Ain't got no problems saying it again
_____________________________________________
Cured salmon rolled in sliced ham with sour cream eggyolk and dill....
*WE ALL LIVE IN A ‘NUT SUBMARINE’
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In a park where the oaks stretch tall,
four bushy-tailed lads heed the call.
With acorn guitars and a nut-shaker beat,
the Liverpudlians scamper on stage
John Lemontail, sharp-eyed and sly,
scribbles lyrics that question the sky:
*“Imagine no birdfeeders… it isn’t hard to do…”
Paul McNutty, the crooner so smooth,
sings *“Yesterday, my walnuts were gone—
Now I need a new place to carry on!”
George Harristripes, mystic and lean,
chants *“Within You, Without You, Walnut Supreme.”
He meditates deep ‘neath a mushroom cap’s shade.
Ringtail Starr, on a hollow log drum,
thumps out a rhythm: “Boom-chicka-bum!”
His cheeks bulge with pecans, a percussive stash.
They thrill on the Ed Sullivan stage,
*“Twist and Shout!” they harmonize causing quite a rage
leaving female squirrels with nutty desire.
The red rising sun has transformed
Into puffy white striated gray clouds
Pasted onto a blue, sky-blue sky
A lovely scene touched by cool air
The partly cloudy touch says
A chance of rain upon a dry land
Others have had some showers, but
So dry here, thank God no flood
Morn's sun lifts above the clouds
A brilliance sifts through the pecans
It lights up the shimmering dew 'pon the grass
Such a pleasant time on the porch
There are coyotes and dogs barking
Birds sing of nesting completed
I wonder do they know of winter
Or of a long winter's sleep
Does this year's hatchlings have instinct
Or is their brain a blank slate
Only God knows some of the answers
Because He was the one who created
When winter winds have withered stubble,
Mother Mary maddens me,
whispering words of wonder:
what are we?
I find the farm a fraction futile,
loving life in Larame:
take the truck to Tucson, Tina
or Tracy, Tennessee.
Aardvarks are mere armadillos,
such as subtle souls can see:
pecans suck for plumping pillows:
chambermaids are chowder-free.
Santa Clara’s not a state,
a splurge is not a spree:
Grindr Graham isn’t straight:
Superior ain’t no sea.
In Nutty Dreams, a world so grand,
A sweet escape, a nutty land.
Nuts Galore, a vision bright,
An ocean nutty, cool and light.
I long to plunge, with joyous cheer,
Into its depths, dispelling fear.
A salty splash, a nutty dash,
In this sweet realm, I'll make a dash.
Oh, peanut butter, smooth and gold,
A nutty story to unfold.
A creamy balm, a sweet delight,
To slather, spread, both day and night.
My nutty sphere, a world so dear,
Where every moment, crystal clear.
Cashews gleam, pecans so brown,
Almonds dance, all over town.
A crunchy sound, a nutty bliss,
Walnuts and hazelnuts, a gentle kiss.
In nutty realms, where joy resides,
A vast kingdom, where laughter glides.
This nutty feast, a pure delight,
Where dreams forever take their flight.
A nutty queen, in this sweet space,
My nutty home, a happy place.
So let me dream, this nutty scene,
A paradise, a nutty queen.
In this sweet world, I'll roam with glee,
Nuts galore, eternally.
2015
September falls within the best of times.
Elections nearing, campaigns underway;
Predictions, weather-wise for cooler climes.
Thus teachers, teens and toddlers break from play
Ere education calls their minds to grind.
Men have endorsed re-naming Labor Day;
But that’s September’s summons of a kind
Enlight’ning us of work that must go on
Regardless of what holiday we find.
Fall features color when the green is gone
And orange, yellow, red and brown have blessed.
Load up those fruits and walnuts and pecans;
Leave acorns for the squirrels building nests.
September brings to time its very best.
A perfect of delight the morning
a brunch for 20 people.
Delicious the word of the day
Dill, cilantro,garlic, cucumbers
,green onions,lime juice, cream
Cheese, chopped Swiss cheese,
Bacon and olive oil mixed smooth
Served with watercress
Cured salmon
Cured herring
Procuttio
Toasted garlic bread
Scrabbled eggs
Ribeyed steak steak loaf
With fried onions, mushrooms
Provolone, cream cheese
Peppers, bacon wrapped in
Pastry and served with cheese
Sauce
For dessert a
Glorious raspberry and strawberry
Pastry tarte with pastry cream
And Carmel pecans
Coffee, sprite and vodka infection
Yottia, Yottia, bleep bomb ooh!
Got me sangin!
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