Do Angels Smile
Do angels smile in the dark night as they watch over the sleeping child guarding, protecting until light?
The infant, innocent, meek and mild nestled warm in his snug straw bed looked at a dancing cherub and smiled.
Forsaken and crucified He bled. The sky darkened and He was home, while the angels watched overhead.
Now angels soft and pure as a midnight breeze, surround Him and smile upon sleeping babes
Death in a Metro Bar
WASHINGTON (AP) 10 percent jump in slayings is ‘no aberration,’ constabulary think tank announces
A man got off the E Train carrying a samurai sword, three pistols, kerosene, propane, and plastic handcuffs, strode into a bar, presumably not for a drink. It made me think, how did he get that far? Who sat next to him in the subway car?
“FBI data has shown a rise in violent crime since 2004. The Justice Department says crime was historically low that year.”
Pistol shots rang out before two courageous barmaids, brave ladies no doubt, dove to wrestle him down. I see images, fears hard to allay they are still deep in my mind. Was everyone on the street blind? Did they turn their head away, from a midnight stroller armed to the teeth, not concerned if bullets didn’t spray.
“Two years worth of increases in violent crime demonstrates a change in the extent and the nature of crime in America.”
I wonder what is wrong in our cities and big towns, subways and thoroughfares, when a man so bent upon harm can walk around without obstruction. I wonder what the attorney’s defense will be, “He was temporarily insane, set him free. He didn’t really mean to cause destruction. Something sure must have set him off, poor victim of poverty and society.”
WASHINGTON (AP): “A public spokesman said after the shooting, ‘this attack was so bizarre that it could only have been committed by someone clearly deranged.'”
Daughter of the Night
Like a sip from a clear ice water stream, you await me with outstretched arms. Teeth sparkle, perfect smile, eyes agleam. Daughter of the night I need you.
Your magic and passion are mine to crave, sometimes dreams, sometimes nightmarish charms. Needs and desires wash over me in a wave. Daughter of the night I need you.
The cold water engulfs me, fails to quench, the heat of my flush-faced desire. Less than a lady, more than a wench, daughter of the night I need you.
I am not sure where my reality resides. I don’t want to awaken if this is the dream, a drowning man seduced by mermaid’s deadly tides. Daughter of the night I need you.
If I Were a Surprise
If I were a surprise, I would be the one that brought the tears to Emily’s eyes. Her mom hustled her into the car with nary a please. No time to dawdle, we have to go now.
I had driven 1,800 miles in two days instead of three to pick up my daughter for summer vacation.
The shock was complete and watching it register on Emily’s face was something to behold.
She first looked, then started smiling wider and wider as the tears started and her chatter stopped.
“Daddy, you tricked me, you weren’t supposed to be here until tomorrow or something,” came through my little girl’s happy cries. Come to think of it, I was a surprise.
Hot Air Balloon
How quaint I should think not of a New Mexico sky filled with floating orbs of every color, but an old busybody who was free to tell everyone, but mostly her family how poorly they behave and how much they disappoint.
So lovely to look at big balloons floating in the brilliant summer skies as I drive along a lonely desert highway.
Too bad you ruined it by being so hateful and everything you should not be, because you could not be anything but a bag filled with hot air.
Homeward Bound
“Where that blue trailer is used to be a flowered hill. Dad found some Abenaki arrowheads over there, sharp still. Over on this side were two old well-climbed willow trees.” They tore down the house but I rebuilt it in my memories.
16 years ago our family moved away from the old farm, Now I visit, trying to show my daughter its charm, “Along here we grew carrots, corn, lettuce and peas…” They tore down the house but I rebuilt it in my memories.
Bulldozers came and beat, bladed, and shaped the land, changing everything my dad built with his own hand. I was sad to see it all gone, like a spring breeze. They tore down the house but I rebuilt it in my memories.
“Where that blue trailer is used to be a flowered hill…” They tore down the house but I rebuilt it in my memories.
Hammered
I have heard sawdust bakes up nice…
Hammer in his tin shed… Hammer at supper time.
Tried to sleep in this morning, but the neighbor started beating out a tune with his hammer. Someone please take his hammer away.
The hammerhead bought house number eight, decided to take a wall out, and make the kitchen bigger.
I know I complain about everything, but I might just get out my chainsaw at midnight and chop down the trees that hang over my good neighbor-making fence.
Maybe the neighborly thing would be to take a freshly baked cake over and let him stop for morning tea. (I’ll hide his tools while he is eating!)
Hammer in his tin shed… Hammer at supper time?
If he doesn’t stop by dinner, I’ll put more than his hammer away for him! He is in his aluminum shed hammering away and it is echoing all over the neighborhood. If he has to build something, I hope it is a soundproofed workshop.
Tried to sleep in this morning, but the neighbor started beating out a tune with his hammer. Someone please take his hammer away.
Hammer in the morning… Hammer in the evening…
I have heard sawdust bakes up nice…
Maisie’s Mom Says
Words from Maisie Jean. “Mama I don’t wanna do spelling and why does the cat lick to clean?”
The music of her voice makes me want to sing. “Finish your homework so we can snuggle love.” “Mama I don’t wanna do spelling.”
If there are angels here or above, they aren’t as cool as Ms. Maisie. “Finish your homework so we can snuggle love.”
“Mom one piece of chocolate won’t make me crazy.” Her sweet smile is hard to resist. They aren’t as cool as Ms. Maisie.
Chasing the cat, teasing him with a string tied to her wrist. How did I deserve such a great kid? Her sweet smile is hard to resist.
“Momma I love you more than I ever did!” Words from Maisie Jean. How did I deserve such a great kid, and why does the cat lick to clean?
If I Were the Autumn Leaves
If I were the autumn leaves I would be colorful and tinged. Reds, yellows, and oranges, falling and tangling in Maisie’s hair as she skips down the lane, followed by mama.
It is a fall day in Cheltenham. Maisie Jean and mom are on a walk to grandma’s. A little girl’s voice sings, “Wake Me Up When September Ends.” “Mama what day is this?” “November 12th” “Was I awake when September ended?”
If I were the autumn leaves I would clap and dance at the chance to be tangled in hair and serenaded by a sweet child who listens to the same song I do from thousands of miles away.
House of Cards
“Mommy what is the one with the A on it again?” “It is an Ace. Having a Daughter like you is ace.” 52 cards in a deck to build a house. Maisie Jean is making a mansion.
“It is an Ace. Having a Daughter like you is ace.” Maisie’s hands and imagination slowly, gently stack cards. Nine feet high and 14 feet wide, numbered faces out. Building the biggest card house in all England.
52 cards in a deck to build a house. Ace through King arranged in suits; red and black, hearts, diamonds, clovers, and spades arranged into a country place for Maisie and mom.
Maisie Jean is making a mansion for her and mom to hide in and snuggle, a day off from school and work to be remembered within these card-stock walls forever.
Fish Bowl
I am not a guppy goldfish, molly, or fighting fish. I was born in a shop on South Broadway which also has dog collars, scratch posts, and bird food.
I am not a Sri Lanka Ghost, on display for kids to watch and supply with bits of food, only to find I am boring and don’t do tricks.
In my fishbowl I float, looking out at your world, so dry.
I am snug and smug and soon I will grow out of my tail, and hop past a rim of glass, out a window, and on into a pond to sing all night.
I am not a guppy, goldfish, molly, or fighting fish, I am a frog if you didn’t know!
Bendy Gold Man
Mr. Bendy Gold Man comes from a far-off land. He is two inches tall you can barely see him at all.
Mr. Bendy is a quarter-inch wide, very easy to hide. One day the kitty bit him when he napped in Maisie’s mitten.
Mr. Bendy Man kept getting lost one day in the trash can he was tossed. Maisie was afraid he wouldn’t long linger now he rides wrapped around her little finger.
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