Barn swallows rested on a wire up high.
One carried straw to build a nest this spring.
The other watched, aware of harm nearby.
To warn its mate, the bird commenced to sing.
The little black cat leaped from hayloft door.
The swallows flapped and flew like Peter Pan.
The cat spit-cleaned his paws, to help ignore
the fact that cagey birds outfoxed his plan.
Setting my sail on a shimmering sea,
I invited you to skim with me.
Away from the shore to never-never land,
together we swept, hand in hand.
One day my hand unclasped your own,
I drifted then on the sea alone.
My heart became a desert trail
like waves of water, behind the sail,
which opened, then closed a shimmering plane
without you there to whisper my name.
I listen for your voice above the ocean’s roar.
If I could summon you back once more!
But I hear nothing and feel no breeze
to carry me over the shimmering seas,
which mirror your face in a puzzle-like shade
as I reflect on the error I’ve made.
How could I have been so blind
as to leave unlocked the door of my mind,
through which you escaped on the shimmering sea?
Oh, precious love, still sail with me.
My kitten named Polly was silky black with white trim about her face. She looked like a tiny panther, which had been sprinkled with honey and then turned loose in a cotton patch. The white patches resembled bits of cotton stuck to the honey on the black, silky fur. Honey was an appropriate way to describe Polly because, as a child, I loved my kitten very much.
Another kitten, called Peter, was my sister’s pet. I suppose that sometime in the first readers, Yvonne and I must have read stories of Peter and Polly, a little boy and girl, because I know that as a child I was not creative enough to think of original names.
As an adult, I found that naming my children was a difficult task. When I gave birth to four babies, I was flabbergasted–not about the four babies–about how to choose suitable names. The babies…
I received a call today from a dear friend who lives far away. She’s a widow and I had not talked to her in a long time. She and her husband were our close friends many years ago when we were young and our husbands were serving in the U.S. Air Force.
During our conversation, she asked me if I still planned to vote for the candidate we’d discussed in an earlier telephone call. I told her I was. She said she had been encouraged by two of her family members to vote for the same one. She admitted that she liked the other candidate. But she said she would probably vote her family’s choice and my choice–because of certain issues.
There’s no doubt that my friend is a registered voter and has been for a long time.
If you are a U.S. Citizen of voting age but for some reason, you’ve never registered to vote, now is a good time to register. Become interested in the process that keeps our country strong. Register. Go to your polling place. Vote!