Friday, October 31, 2014

A Halloween Tale

Late one autumn evening,
All the leaves was orange and brown,
And the pines was mighty perty
With the moon a beamin’ down.

There was barely just a breath of breeze.
The woods were cool and still,
And I was out a listening
For the falls last whippoorwill.

I sauntered around the corner
Of the house, out by the deck,
And I couldn’t help but grinning
As I stopped and craned my neck.

I peeked in through the window,
Where the Misses was at work,
And I recognized the duty
That no man could ever shirk.

She had finished baking goodies,
And was standing at the sink.
She was reaching for the dipper,
Just to get herself a drink.

When without a bit of warning,
Not inkling or a trace,
I sprang up at the window
To confront her face to face!

Well it must have been horrendous
When she saw me glaring in,
With the darkness all around me
And the moonlight on my grin.

Cause it wasn’t but a second
Till her color went real poor,
And her knees collapsed beneath her,
And I heard her hit the floor!

Our Scotty looked real nervous
As he lit out for the shed,
And I figured it was likely
That was where I’d make my bed.

Well you can’t even imagine
How I felt there all alone.
Just the thought of going in the house
Struck terror to the bone.

I figured she’d be coming to,
And I figured she’d be hacked!
I wouldn’t get no goodies.
I knew that for a fact.

When at last I peeked in through the door,
She grabbed me by an ear!
I took an awful beating.
The price I paid was dear!

I was quick to holler uncle,
Or it’s likely I’d be dead.
I was right about the goodies.
And it’s cold as penguin poop out in the shed!




Seeing no one, I reached out anyway.
Velvet black silence consuming me,
Motionless, oppressive and uninterrupted.
The only sound, the last labored beating of my own feeble heart.
And then, from beyond the desolate void which enveloped me,
A firm hand joined unexpectedly with mine.
My pulse no longer relevant, my last breath expelled,
A rush of reassurance filled my soul,
A warm embrace, and eternity took me in.


Friday, October 24, 2014

We scattered Dad's ashes here on the hill a few years ago. It's a special place.

Up on the hill where the pines grow dense
Where the fields are green and the sky immense
Scatter one day my last remains
To be drawn in the earth by the gentle rains.
Gladly did I tread this place
With the gentle breeze upon my face,
A faithful dog for company,
And benevolent sun beaming down on me.
Thank the Lord for the time we had
When rest was blessed and toil was glad,
When joyous hearts rejoiced in truth,
And we shared our hopes and dreams and youth.
Look to the heavens bright and blessed;
See me satisfied, caressed;
Know at last I’m free from care,
My dust is here, but my spirit there.



Tuesday, October 14, 2014

“Raccoon up the ‘simmon tree, ‘possum on the ground.  ‘Possum says to the ol’ raccoon, shake them ‘simmons down!”  Like the opossum, I generally have to wait until some more industrious critter knocks some persimmons down.  I just returned from Littlethicket, where I enjoyed several handfuls which I collected off the ground.  While folks will insist that persimmons are best enjoyed after the first frost, if I hold off until then, the ol’ raccoons are fat and sassy, and the persimmons are only a memory. Having returned to the house, I’ll now wash the bitter aftertaste away with a bit of gin & tonic, and then settle in and determine whether or not I’m sufficiently fortified to subject myself to the national news. Have a good evening.  SC

Your best hope for contentment in the autumn of your life is the celebration of seasons that you’ve shared.

Years ago I was a member of a little country church. On numerous occasions our preacher would descend from the pulpit and announce; “Now I’m going to talk to you like I love you.”  That’s what I intend to do now.   Each of us begins our lives with high hopes and lofty expectations. In order to fulfill those expectations, most of us marry.  Fully aware that many marriages fail, we press onward, confident that our relationship will beat the odds and flourish forever.  Years pass, life happens; hardships bring disillusionment and despair.  Our marriages become tedious and we struggle with the prospect of living the rest of our lives and never again enjoying a mutually fulfilling relationship. Eventually we despair and consider other options.  Don’t do it.  You’ll never replace those early years of a mutually fulfilling marriage.  Relationships with those with whom we share a history can’t be reproduced or replaced. Don’t try.  During difficult times, immerse yourself in memories of better days.  Devote yourself to mutual goals.   Deepen your appreciation for shared experience and achievements.  Celebrate family and its many rewards. Reconcile yourself to the fact that, while you can’t go back, happiness can be found by moving forward and recommitting yourself to the life you’ve built together.  Your best hope for contentment in the autumn of your life is the celebration of seasons that you’ve shared. Shower your spouse with unconditional love and make certain everyday you’re worthy of theirs.  SC

Friday, October 10, 2014

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Thursday, October 9, 2014

A Whisper yet Unheard

A poem is like an early rose
Before the bloom has come,
Or the crawling caterpillar
That the butterfly is from.

A poem is like new sherry
Before ageing makes it sweet,
Or the passion of two lovers
Yet to meet.

When a poet writes a poem
He creates it word by word,
But until its read by one who cares
It’s but a whisper yet unheard.

And though a poem can live forever,
A book may be its tomb,
For though the poet plants the seed,
Only you can make it bloom.


And joyously remove one candle from our cake.

Looking back, our lives whiz by before we know what hit us.  We spend our first thirty years thinking about our future, the second thirty thinking about our past, and our last year’s wondering what the hell we were thinking!  The older I get, the more adamant I become in my belief that we should start out old and grow younger every year.  On each successive anniversary of our birth, we could assemble all our friends and family for a truly heartfelt celebration, and joyously remove one candle from our cake.  What could be better than to spend the first fifty years of our life, looking forward to becoming a little boy, and tormenting little girls! SC  

Note:  In my current efforts to be the very best I can be (or at least look a little younger) I've shaved off the mustache and done away with the gray.  What do ya think?