An armadillo leaned on a fence,
too wilted to muster a proper defense.
His cowboy hat slouched
like a biscuit overbrowned,
his dignity having long since left town.
The relentless sun blazed down with cheer,
roasting the pasture for the fifteenth month this year.
Grasshoppers staggered.
Mesquite trees panted.
Even the buzzards looked disenchanted.
The dillo squinted west and sighed,
I reckon I'm medium-well inside.
One more degree
and y'all will see
roadside jerky where I used to be."
A bead of sweat rolled down his snout.
He watched it fall. He watched it sizzle.
"Autumn," he grumbled,
"has missed her exit.
She's probably lost near Abilene."
The fence post offered little aid.
The shade was merely shade-adjacent.
He tipped one claw
to his hat and said,
"If anybody spots October,
tell it I'm awaitin'."
No dangerous lair
Dark with menace!
From out this tree shade, antique
More gently lit, edenic
This vision face.
Afar, but untouched
By it? Not me!
Soul, reclaimed! With each bounce, arc
Lamb-spurted, and sped of lark.
Joyous and free.
I recall clearly, my mom took me to peek
at the calico box crab roadside circus freak.
Some kids have a tooth fairy, my reward, more oblique.
I stood, mouth agape, quite unable to speak.
I had a strange childhood, you might call it unique,
before reaching adulthood, employment to seek.
Roadside Lilies Hiku 45
roadside lilies white
in full bloom with delight~
yearning for human sight.
e s w
i ~ ~ h
l ~ ~ i
i t
------------------------ l e
r –o –a d –s –I –d -e
-----------------------
0 . o .
l . . . . . m
in f ~u ~l ~l b . . . •. . . . d _e _l_ i_ g_ h_ t~
w . . . h
I . , t
i g
y ~e ~a ~r ~n ~I ~n ~g for human s • h
t.
By the Streetlamp
Secrets held by the streetlamp,
Delightful, sad or wicked,
Witness through its deadpan eyes
Of events by its roadside,
As distant stars in the sky,
Are kept in depth of her heart,
With its vows of secrecy,
Never with someone to part.
“The earth laughs in flowers.”
- Quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson
---------------------------------------
Spring has just taken a leap
Blushing sun is on hot trail
Teases trees with playful smile.
Surprises avenue tree
Flares up flamboyant clusters
Impatient - so like new bride.
Gulmohar is her sweet name
Peacock like, scarlet petals
Her Beauty lights up sun's rays.
While the other nearby trees
Stand in bare green downplaying
Their potent beauty now veiled
Zealous, like merry bridesmaids
Wait in line for flowering time.
Roadside flowers, defy the rain
handwritten cards, spell out the name
of someone’s son, of someone’s friend
just where the road, begins to bend
at the spot where everything changed
Passers-by said it was a shame
nobody quite sure who to blame
but everyone could comprehend
roadside flowers.
A face looks through the window pane
oblivious to sun or rain
condolences so quick to send
that broken fence so soon to mend
her grief still wrapped in cellophane
roadside flowers.
"drunken canuck roadside assistance" or "AA eh"
perhaps i can
't cook with
out a
douse
of what's
not out of a
moose's
snout
or
what snot
is not
a
boot or
about
but
i know what i
knew i now
know
now
that
then
if your day
begins then
it should also
end with a
Guinness and
an absolvo te eh
men
Near the park, I screamed at a big chap—
“Do not pee by the roadside, ape-man!”
oh, because I seen fright,
I peed on a shrub a night.
The shrub —JESUS! —was a drunk man.
T C Irwin A ROADSIDE INN
===========||
___|___ __ |_ _
| |
| THE |
| RED |
| LION |
| OPEN |
|____ _______|
A mother chrysanthemum is blooming
On the side of a footpath were
People are hurrying to and fro
It stood quietly with the defiance of the people
Showing a scene that looks coincidental
Being ignored or not by the thinking eyes
Just bloomed for its own destiny as a fact
Not for a bit for the strangers' passers-by
So why does one need to offer a cheap sigh
the week passes
miles counted
numbers turn
as I drive
fields of gold
my reflections
of beauty
my dreams
tires sing
on a county road
memories reclaimed
with my favorite songs
the landscape shimmers
as the moon ghosts the sky
in the slant of light
perceived
in the slant of light
the moon ghosts the sky
the landscape shimmers
with my favorite songs
memories reclaimed
on a county road
tires sing
my dreams
of beauty
my reflections
fields of gold
as I drive
numbers turn
miles counted
the week passes
Jane and Norman are going steady
Now are planning their wedding
They decided to wed
At a roadside chapel
Off a country road
Their minister will
Do the ceremony
Jane will have bridesmaids
A flower girl or two
Maids of honor will lead
Then the bride will follow
Walking slow to the groom
She is teary eye with joy
Photos taken outdoors
In front of the chapel
People gather to watch
Phots are taken
On a bright sunny day
Small groups groups gather
to chat
Before leaving the chapel
In my youth I was completely engrossed,
By poetry along the byways nailed to a post!
It wasn't composed by John Greenleaf Whittier;
No, the authors were much more wittier!
I speak of Burma Shave signs once all the craze,
But can only be found in museums nowadays.
I don't claim to own the wit of poet Ogden Nash,
But here are some I might've composed if I may be so brash!
If its a kiss from yer gal you crave
But the stubble on yer mug she hates
Better grab yerself a can of Burma Shave!
When ol' Sarge says you're grown' too much stubble
And threatens to nix yer weekend pass
Slather yer mug with Burma Shave on the double!
When you were interviewed for a host of jobs
But weren't hired because of yer stubble
Smother yer mug with Burma Shave in gobs!
When you insist on takin' her out to dine
But she says no caressin' yer 5-o'clock shadow
Mow yer mug usin' Burma Shave and all will be fine!
If it's yer handsome mug you want to save
Plain ol' Lifebuoy soap won't do the job
Use plenty of good ol' foamy Burma Shave!
Let me tell you fellers about the latest rave
If you want to impress your sweetie pie
Use smooth and creamy Burma Shave!
Economic curve
Sliding down
Mushroom-like umbrellas
Springing up
Somewhat blocking the street
Drawing crowds
To buy the cheapest
Goods and wares
Without license or tax
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