Poetry, Essays, and Short Stories by Scarlet The Writing Forum’s Writer of the Month - July 2007   AUTHOR’S BIO: I am a native Floridian and have been writing professionally since college. I have written everything from commercials for radio and television to documentaries and a screen play or two. However, my first love is poetry. I have never had anything published. Although, I’m asked about it all the time. I wrote poetry in Southern "tawk" for a good number of years. Perhaps it was because of my "Scarlet" name or probably because I was born in the south.. it came naturally to me. Most of it was meant to be humorous! After 9/11, as so many writers did, I turned to more serious writing. However, I still prefer to take a bit of a humorous look at things from time to time. My main thought is to give the reader something to think about! And, if they happen to leave my writings with a smile of their face... then, it's a good day for me! To read my essays published here at The Writing Forum, please click here. For my short stories published here at The Writing Forum, please click here. To visit my own space on the web, “Scarlet’s Rhymes”, please click here. Email: mjktjax@yahoo.com For My Continuing  Series “Mo Tee Suh” Please Click Here POETRY BY SCARLET Click on the button in front of any poem title in the list below to be linked directly to its location on the page:   EASTER LILIES IN MAY?   BOUQUET OF ZINNIAS   LADY BUGS   RUDE or STUPID?   FREEDOM OF A HORSEBACK RIDE   PINWHEEL PROMISES   RUBY SUE   THE FAMILY FROM HELL   SMARTER   I BLEW IT   THE FAST WALKER   THE CHOICE IS MINE   SOUTHERN PEAS   MINNOWS IN THE ROAD RUTS   DO YA KNOW WHAT I’M SAYIN’?   THAT AMAZING PONDERING MIND   MY CHRISTMAS BIRTHDAY   THANKSGIVING AT GRANDMA’S   BLUR OF IMPRESSIONS   CLUTTERED AND SCARED   THE PAPER I WRITE ON   HEAT WARNINGS   WRITE MYSELF AN E-MAIL   MAKING CENTS OF NO MONEY   RHYMER STYMER   I MIGHT RATHER EAT IT   BLACK AND WHITE CIGARETTES   DIRECTIONS   DANCE LESSONS   DIPPITY DOO’D!   THE HACKING OLD LADY   AFTERNOONS WITH A HIPPIE   MAMA TALK   ONE TRUE SENTENCE   GENERATIONS OF KITCHENS   I’M A QUARTER   SOMEBODY’S DEAD IN THERE   GET UP OFF YOUR BUTT   GARDEN THERAPY   EASTER LILIES IN MAY? Look at you! Beautiful Easter lilies Brightly blooming in my yard! But, why couldn’t you have bloomed at Easter? Hey.. would that have been so hard? I guess Mother Nature had other plans Saving your beauty for May That’s fine with me I love having you here Blossoming in full array I’ve taken a lot of pictures of you In case you aren’t here next year But, I’ll be hoping that you do show up I won’t care when you appear Look at you! Beautiful Easter lilies How lucky I am to see This most special flower garden in May Showing off in front of me!   BOUQUET OF ZINNIAS Standing tall in my private garden The zinnias of my life are strong Weathering the tumultuous times Knowing where they truly belong The one who baked my favorite cookies Another who could cry on cue The broad shoulders and hard and fast rules Loved to talk of Winnie the Pooh Swaying in the breeze on a porch swing Smiling brightly at a pink sky Pleased to see my face when I visit there Never wanting to say goodbye Now, they are gathered in a tall glass vase Reminding me in their display Of all of their lives and their love of me The zinnias of this Mother’s Day   LADY BUGS Are you simply there to decorate the leaf Showing off all of your orange tones Or is there much more to you my dear lady bug Something I really should have known I’ve heard it said that you spend all of your days Eating bad bugs in my garden And I thought you were only a pretty face I really must beg your pardon Get back to work my wonderful little friend The tomatoes and I are smiling Your secret is safe amongst the plants out there May the bugs find you beguiling   RUDE or STUPID? I thought today about the word “rude” Why do people act that way? Do they plan their day ahead of time? Knowing just what to say? When the opportunity presents itself Are they calculating and cold? Facing up to every type of situation Why do they act so bold? I thought it might be instinct working No plans were made to act They never give things another thought It’s all so matter of fact Then I thought of the word “stupid” Perhaps this is how they are Oblivious to another’s presence Maybe that’s not so bizarre Some people live in their own world Yet come across as quite rude When in reality they are just stupid ‘Tis a strange world I must conclude   FREEDOM OF A HORSEBACK RIDE The freedom of a horseback ride impressed me as a child Considering most of the rest of my life was really quite mild To climb on top of a wonderful "beast" and let the breeze just flow Helped me touch that freedom that I might not ever know Of course, as a child I simply thought it was great to be able to ride Not really giving much thought to the pleasure I felt deep inside I was just at my Granddaddy's farm enjoying some wonderful fun It wasn't until many years later that I knew what that ride had done Could I ride real fast and hang on tight and not fall to the ground? I think I might just "dare" since my Mama wasn't around! It was so high up on that chestnut horse I felt like I was a queen Looking out upon my family and hoping to be "seen"! As I look back on those days and try to remember what my life was then I think of the special times in the country on a horse.. up high.. with a grin Precious days.. precious people precious pictures.. precious times The freedom of a horseback ride made this "little girl" feel so fine   PINWHEEL PROMISES Through squinting eyes I see the blades As I wake from a sound sleep A big beautiful ceiling fan spins around Pushing the warm air to cool The blades become more and more blurred Widening with each fine turn Pinwheels from my childhood take shape As I drift to and from sleep Standing in my backyard with no shoes That skinny stick in my hand With a colorful spinning pinwheel That only moves because of me I blow and watch the colors blend And, again to see how fast Enraptured in the moment of bliss Not a care in the world Pinwheel promises of perfect days Where life goes on forever Time was only when the sand man called Not thought of on a sunny day   RUBY SUE Ruby Sue was a rather sad ol’ gal She had an ol’ kitty cat for a pal Some say she started out on the right road It was warts she got when she kissed that toad Nobuddy ever called her voluptuous A small town hick is whut she wuz Fact was she had a visceral lifestyle Many stayed away by at least a mile Brother Goober was down right bodacious Been in jail seven times.. oh my gracious Thought he was sexy and the girls would love him But, Violet thought different – so, she shot him Ruby Sue buried ol’ Goober out back Near the pumpkin patch and that run down shack She claimed a chupacabra killed him dead Violet agreed and even shook her head No one ever found out the dirty dead deed The gravity of it - was the girls creed I guess you could call it southern justice ‘Course.. I don’t really know what the fuss is!   THE FAMILY FROM HELL Sister married him for his money Then, she shot him dead Never served a single day in jail Bought the judge instead Brother wheeled and dealed his own empire A jerk from the start Someone caught him in his evil ways That was the best part Mother married her seventh husband Just because she could She’ll get all his money fairly soon I knew that she would Granddad left his money to the maid Who was his lost child She locked up the house and moved away Then, she went hog wild Uncle was such a real fine doctor Every other day The rest of the time the nurses ran When he tried to play! It’s tough to keep up with all this mess But, I do it well Watching four soaps in one afternoon I may go to hell!   SMARTER Maybe I was suppose to be smarter It’s very possible to me I see where I could have been much better With more education, you see? In the old days, it was called “book learnin’” Which meant reading a lot and such I thought I had gone through a lot of books Now, it doesn’t seem like so much I guess my verbs get in the way of some nouns I find some math such a puzzle I have a confession about spelling I am completely bum-fuzzled! Oh yeah, my grammar gets a little lapse When I try the prepositions I’m sure you have already figured out Teaching was not my ambition While I know I’m not quite as smart as some I think I’m stuck with what I’ve got No sense trying to act any smarter A politician I am not!   I BLEW IT I fell into that great big pond One day when I was eight Despite the fact that my dear Mom Had asked me to please wait Oh no not me I had to run To be the first one there Never noticing that ol’ dog Lying there without a care Head over heels I surely went My shoes took off a flyin’ Then the biggest splash ever heard Set a record I’m implyin’ Not a swimmer I was right scared My fate was sealed I knew it Then, Ol’ Frank grabbed me by the shirt And said “Dear girl, you blew it” As I was gasping for some air He pushed me onto shore “Next time lissen to your mama!” “‘Cause your butt’s gonna be sore!”   THE FAST WALKER She walked real fast in the shopping mall And, I sure wondered why that was Did she just rob one of the stores in here Should I be lookin’ for the Fuzz? She kept walkin’ and I kept shoppin’ And, about five minutes past by I looked up! She was headin’ my way! Movin’ fast as she flew right by I had to know what was goin’ on So I began to give her a chase I closed in on her a little bit But, she was makin’ this a race! I got ahead and then turned around Not real sure what I would do next She got close and stopped dead in her tracks Exhausted and very perplexed. I said “What the heck is going on?” She took a breath and said to me “Do you know if Sears has a bathroom? Because I really have to pee!”    THE CHOICE IS MINE The ups and downs and the ins and outs Really are taking their toll I face each day with uncertainty I’d like to crawl in a hole! The things that I hear every single day Are much different than before I hate to hear all the latest news I need a pad to keep score! Oh yes, I know that it’s important I must pay attention now! It’s all up to me and I know it This is a big deal.. and, how! I’ll brag and say I did my homework I know all I need to know My guess will be most educated I just hope its quid pro quo! Maybe you feel the same as I do When you are about to vote It’s not easy to make the right choice When you buy a winter coat!   SOUTHERN PEAS Purple hull peas take me back a ways A much different time than nowadays When you planted a garden for a whole crowd And getting out of chores was not allowed You planted and watered, picked and shelled Stopping only for the dinner bell If you wanted to eat what was grown You kept on working without a moan Back then the “grocery store” was the farm You worked with your family arm and arm And what was grown thru blood, sweat and tears Had to last the family for the year After the harvests and the shelling Came the canning with no rebelling All went in jars after the water boiled That was to make sure that nothing spoiled Then, in the dead of winter, you see Out came jars filled with purple hull peas There were beans, corn and some tomatoes too The pantry was filled with “what we grew” A garden is seldom grown these days People spend their time in other ways But, the truth is those days were sublime Southern peas, family and canning time   MINNOWS IN THE ROAD RUTS Standing knee deep in the flooded water We were about one-hundred yards away It seemed so strange that the frame of the pond Had now become the size of this flood There were fish in there but now they’re out here Swimming free thinking their house had grown Then, we realized that they would all soon die As the flooding seeped into the ground So, we herded the fish just like cowboys Rounding up strays and heading home The fish raced ahead just like children do Wanting to be first back in the pond But, where was the pond it had no borders The fish played tag as they darted about Our roundup was useless and we knew it The new home for the fish was a death trap Days later, when the water was gone We walked the dirt road to the pond Surprisingly water filled the road ruts And, minnows were swimming around We quickly gathered water filled buckets And, scooped up handfuls of minnows Heavy arms carried the buckets safely Back to the pond where they were born   DO YA KNOW WHAT I’M SAYIN’? Oh my stars and garters, Henry James You are a sight for sore eyes I don’t believe I’ve seen you in a coon’s age Somebody said you left town I even heard tell you got yer feathers ruffled I do declare It just don’t pay to fly off the handle If you know what I mean, Henry James Going off half-cocked Gets ya nuthin’ but a fist o’ dust Best you settle down and behave yoself Makes better sense, I’m sayin’! Don’t be gittin’ too big fer yer britches! Yo Mama didn’t raise no fools Now, did she? Mercy sakes Mind your ways and you’ll be learnin’ Goin’ to bed with the chickens is pretty wise Get back to your raisin’, Henry James You won’t get the short end of the stick then Soon, you’ll be grinnin’ like a cat And, be in high cotton like yo Daddy! (Translation available upon request)   THAT AMAZING PONDERING MIND I’ve heard it said that your mind ponders When something strange happens It goes through a rather long checklist As a matter of fact I’m not so sure if this checklist changes When the event gets worse Frankly, I hope I never find out But, I guess we all will I caught my toe on the tip of the bag Of birdseed on the floor And, saw my mind race through that long list In mere milli-seconds Hey, what was that? Oh God I’m falling! I reached my first quick blink Oh let’s tell the hands to break this fall I think I broke my leg We’re on the floor now do a quick check Shock factor kicks in quick! Knee is bent and skinned and very bruised But, not a thing broken Funny how the mind can do all that While I head for the floor But, it takes me three minutes to stand! Is that ice pack nearby?   MY CHRISTMAS BIRTHDAY “Oh you poor thing” is what I often hear The sympathy comes pouring out “You sure do get gipped” they go on to say Making a face like a pout! I feel no need for such loving concern I have always had it this way Maybe this fact needs some explanation You might just see it from my way When I was a girl my mother made plans Just before the holiday break For all of my school friends to gather ‘round For a party and birthday cake! As I got older, found a new joy Hidden in the holiday craze My birthday some how gets lost in the rush I learned to stay “younger” this way!   THANKSGIVING AT GRANDMA'S Grandma’s house was full of people Around Thanksgiving time There was more food in that one place Than I have room to rhyme! Ol’ Tom Turkey was basted well I think Grandpa was too Gals were cookin’ up a storm There was so much to do Sweet potatoes with marshmallows Veggies from the garden The whole house had a strong odor Oh I beg your pardon The best corn bread dressing ever With giblet gravy too You never went away hungry When Thanksgiving was through Six pies were on the windowsill Grandma wanted two more Daddy offered his “expertise” She pointed to the door We sat in chairs and on the floor Any place we could find I was worried about my plate Not where I sat my ‘hind. Full of people and full of food Grandma liked it that way I think about those wonderful times Every Thanksgiving Day!   BLUR OF IMPRESSIONS You don’t require much of me at all I don’t need a brain In fact, it’s perfectly acceptable If I don’t even move No searches deep into my morals Just show up, you say Then, I must feast on your banquet Telling those who ask You, in turn, leave your brand Slogans of evil or fun That will stick in my head so much That I sing them often Believing that what I say is true Yet never thinking I repeat because I heard it You told me everything There in that colorful box in my room You spread society I learn, repeat and come back for more I have no useful brain When will I ever wake up to find There is a way to stop I will move and be myself again I can turn the TV off   CLUTTERED AND SCARED The door swung wide as I walked inside Curious as a dang cat I wondered why as he caught my eye Who would put up with all that A cluttered place with little space He had little room to walk I smelled the stink which made me think He’s watchin’ me like a hawk I looked around and finally found A window that was open I caught my breath scared half to death I’d die soon I was hopin’ He got up close his breath was gross And, as he started to speak I thought it wise I closed my eyes Then felt my knees go weak When I woke up there was a cup Of home brew on the table I looked around didn’t see the clown I best go if I’m able Outta the blue he spit his chew I gagged at the man so vile He wiped his face of every trace Gave me a picket fence smile   THE PAPER I WRITE ON Write with a pen on a plain piece of paper?? Please. This is the modern age! We don’t “do” paper. Crank up the computer and open a blank page there That’s where writers write everything nowadays Yet when that computer crashes in this high tech world And, there are no blank pages to write the good words A writer sits and stares as if there is nothing left to do No one will write until the computer gets fixed The grand ideas of sonnets and rhymes are left dormant While newspaper columns are only thoughts not shared Novels are left unfinished like bowls of leftovers The quick note to grandma will have to be delayed Thoughts of finding a piece of paper never happens We have moved on to something better so they say The days of quill pens and parchment or ballpoints and notes Aren’t even part of this high tech world we are in Think of even further into our future of writing Where there aren’t even simple keystrokes anymore As we speak to a wall that remembers what we said Displays it on another wall for someone’s ear Alas, the paper I write on is not paper at all Future generations will laugh at the thought of it What happens when they can’t think of what to say to the wall? Will they look for a blank page on an old computer screen?   HEAT WARNINGS I stood as a faint breeze came by Hoping to bask in it Standing over a steaming teapot Would have been much cooler Heat warnings fill all the newscasts This is Florida...duh! What’s new about it being hot? This time it’s serious People dying in their old shacks And, the ones with no A/C Not a breath of cool to ease it I count myself lucky I go back inside to my cool How did I ever live? When we had no A/C in schools I don’t think that I cared Spoiled rotten as Mama would say I feel the “guilts” Heat warnings on the radio Florida in August   WRITE MYSELF AN E-MAIL (“sung” to the tune of “I’m Gonna Sit Right Down and Write  Myself  a Letter” with apologies to lyricist Joe Young ) I’m gonna sit right down and write myself an e-mail And, make believe it came from my bank! I’m gonna write words oh so fine Saying I hope that I don’t mind That an error just discovered Means my car loan will be covered! I’m gonna grin and say I hope that makes my day now I’ll close with thanks for being me I’m gonna sit right down and write myself an e-mail And, make believe it came from my bank One more time!!!! I’m gonna sit right down and write myself an e-mail And, make believe it came from my bank I’m gonna write words oh so fine Saying I hope that I don’t mind That an error just discovered Means my car loan will be covered I’m gonna grin and say I hope that makes my day now I’ll close with thanks for being me Oh yeah….. I’m gonna sit right down and write myself an e-mail And, make believe it came from …. Think I’ll include the home loan.. Make believe it came from ….. my bank!   MAKING CENTS OF NO MONEY I rubbed two dollars together Trying to make some cents Clearly this was not the best way For my time to be spent I stretched a twenty-dollar bill Until it snapped in two Does that mean I now have two tens? Please help me here won’t you? I pinched a penny hard and fast It hurt my fingers so! Maybe blood out of a turnip Would be the way to go Confusion over money now How do I keep me some? Bills for gas that won’t ever last Has turned my wallet numb I think I’ll take up gardening Grow rows of dollar weed Then, no matter what else happens I've got my mouth to feed   RHYMER STYMER I spend a lot of my time writing in verse Which is not always the easiest thing to do Because you have to find rhyming words Which don’t always come easy to the mind And, it forces me to find a different way To write what I really wanted to write Just because I couldn’t find the rhyme To a word that normally would fit On the end of the sentence That I wanted to write Without troubles At all Damn!   I MIGHT RATHER EAT IT How rude to intrude in my email life To tell me what to do I don’t go bothering you with such Leave me alone will you! I have nothing that I must enlarge Or, need another bank Don’t tell me I’ve won the lottery I’m sick of all your pranks I don’t have the funds to help you out Or, play your silly games You can’t cut me off from Grits R Us I’ll start calling you names! Spam is the word they use for your junk That makes no sense to me I think that’s an insult to the meat Please quit it is my plea! No more solicitations, please I’m through with all of it If I have to put up with some Spam I might rather eat it!   BLACK AND WHITE CIGARETTES Never giving it a second thought When they were first viewed Smoking was just a natural thing It’s what they all did Fast-forward fifty years or more And, it’s not the same Smoking takes over the whole scene As you watch them light Ricky, Lucy, Ethel and Fred Lit up all the time But, when the baby’s doctor did It was a big deal A doctor lighting a cigarette? Is he nuts or what? The whole show went out the window As I sat and stared Rewinding in such disbelief And, then I thought why Time changes so much about us Yet we never see It’s only when we look back there To see what THEY did That we know that THEY are just WE Before we found out   DIRECTIONS Okay, pay attention now I kin git ya there likkity split First, you stay on this here road I'd say no more than three, five or six miles It's right past where Chevron was It was a shame they had to close that place, huh? Oh! You didn't live here then Somebuddy got kilt – so who'd go back there? Anyways, let me see now Oh yeah, ya turn left right there at that place You know, I'm thinkin' hard now Best you turn before where the Chevron wuz I wuz sendin' ya too far No need in you goin' all the way out I mean, if you don't have to Price of gas means we sure take short cuts now Huh? Oh yeah. Now, where wuz I? You know that KFC burnt to the ground You'll see stuff when you drive by But, hang a left right there or you'll sure git lost Then, go on past Miz Dye's place Sweet ol' lady. But, she's got some mean dawgs 'Course you won't be bothered now You don't plan on stoppin' there I don't think I wuz just thinkin' agin Now that I know how to git you out there You might as well ride with me No sense in both of us drivin' our cars   DANCE LESSONS At Garden City Community Hall I took up ballroom dancin' Not at all sure how I would look out there Maybe horse-like prancin' After several weeks of step one and two With crinlins out to there I was convinced I had learned quite enough ‘Least so folks wouldn't stare! The very next week that rascal Buddy Durin' a real fast song Walked me to the teacher, Ms. Bremer Tellin' what I did wrong I turned the color of my skirt right quick Which was fire engine red As he told her my dancin’ was lousy I’m wishin‘ I was dead! Sure I stepped all over his brand new shoes He stepped all over mine! She looked at me and then she looked at him New partners were assigned! The moral of this story is simple Dancin’ CAN bring the blues Just remember what I learned in third grade Dance only in OLD shoes!   DIPPITY DOO’D! My Mama rolled my hair every night Those wire-y things with brushes The ones that stuck holes in my head As I tossed and turned finding less pain Then, the big plastic rollers were there As big as beer cans for poofyness I felt like I was actually sitting up When I tried to lie down in my bed A soaking wet head full of rollers Hoping that everything would dry Be perfectly gorgeous in the morning With no evidence of anything but pretty Daddy said he couldn’t look at me He said I looked like I was tuning in Some radio station in Savannah Men.. even Daddy’s .. what do they know? Along came a glass jar of goop Guaranteed to make things better Put the goop on the hair and roll it In the morning, gorgeous hair I went through a lot of goop in my day My hair was always crunchy But, that was a good thing I figured out Guys notice when you’re Dippity- Doo’d!   THE HACKING OLD LADY She coughed with a hack like the devil Cigarettes had taken their toll Looking every bit of her vast years Though I didn’t know just how old “Did you hear that young girl over there?” Looking back as she spoke to me “She’s complaining about her new job Bet she don’t work as hard as me!” “Kids today they don’t know a damn thing Except how to bitch and complain They got it too good I’m tellin’ ya Don’t even use half of their brains!” I stared at her as she went on and on Her face was a twisted up knot I wasn’t sure if she made some sense Or, maybe she didn’t know squat “Oh don’t get me wrong I’m getting old” “But, I’m happy to do the work” “I sure won’t sit around and complain” “Folks would call this old broad a jerk!” I finally got the nerve to ask her Knowing she was older than me Just how long had she been on this earth She yelled out like a crazed banshee “Hell! I’m gonna be fifty next year!!” I turned my head the other way I guess it was good my jaw had dropped Since I had nothing more to say This crazy old loud hacking woman That I had “pigeon holed” you see Was not what I had assumed at all Oh dear Lord! She’s younger than me! The moral of my story is clear It’s really not smart to assume Or you might spend the rest of your days Pickin’ your jaw up with a broom!   AFTERNOONS WITH A HIPPIE She wore a long skirt down to her ankles I don’t recall her wearing shoes She spoke of some man who loved a seagull I had a parakeet named Spot She kept hard candies in small crystal bowls Offering me one everyday When I tasted it, I cringed on green peas No.. the taste was just like broccoli She spoke of a green witch near New York City Where the drummer’s beat was different I thought of my next Halloween costume As a witch I would be in black She made tea from bark and leaves off of trees Mama called her a flower child And, said I shouldn’t eat or drink with her I thought of my own tea party To me she was just a strange old lady Who was kind of weird and stuff Folks said she’s a barren hippie I thought she was from Chicago   MAMA TALK How many times have I told you? That you must be careful Just look at you. Standing there. You sure know how to cry! Come on over here and let me look Well, that’ll leave a mark How in the world did it happen? Weren’t you payin’ attention? Oh, that Laura Lynn is a mess You know better than her If she jumped off of that bridge You’d go after her! Let me get ya cleaned up here Stop that sniffling now Sure it hurt. Hope it taught ya! You are such a sight You always have on good clothes When you pull this stuff I bet if you wore dirty clothes You’d never get hurt! ‘Course the neighbors would all talk Saying I was a bad Mama Sending you out like a raga-muffin Down right embarrassin’! Now get on outta here I’m busy Don’t get hurt again! I might not be around the next time Did ya hear a thing I said?   ONE TRUE SENTENCE Ernest implored me to write a sentence Make it one true sentence, he said But, what does he mean by one true sentence? That bothered me for quite awhile I thought, at first, that it was for us all That “true” would be universal The sentence that everyone could agree Was without a doubt very true How impossible a task this would be! We can’t agree on what’s for lunch How do we agree on what is so true A monumental task indeed Then, I realized that it should be my truth Something that I knew for sure That anytime in my life I would say “Oh, absolutely, that’s so true!” Alas, I don’t believe I could say it Times change, feelings change, heck I change My truth today could easily become A bold face lie by tomorrow So, what about fiction? That’s not the truth Yet the truth is thought to be there Hiding amid a fictional story The truth doth shine often it seems So, dear Ernest, what have you done to me? Have you challenged me beyond truth? Have you pushed me to think out of the box Or, is this a simple task? My truth, the world’s truth, one true sentence, huh? The strain, the angst, the confusion of it Wait, dear Ernest, I believe I have it….. This true sentence poem is over   GENERATIONS OF KITCHENS As I rush home with a store bought cake I suddenly smell apple pie Generations of older kitchens Find me with stories to tell The red velvet cake for my birthday Smells like my teenage perfume The grated lemons for the Chess Pie Burnt cornbread that the birds ate Being on my best behavior So that I could sop the bowl Nothing tasted better than pound cake Raw and dripping down my chin Cooking lessons all wrap around me I sure learned more than I know “Put the eggs in one at a time, dear” Grandmother’s soothing sweet words She poured bourbon over her fruitcake I smell it like it was here Christmas cookies and Christmas candies Each one made with loving hands My cake looks like cardboard with icing Straight from an assembly line No love, no thought, no cooking lessons No aromas for me now Ha! The time the roast burned in the oven That stink lasted for three days Covering now with the smell of bread Fresh rolls with homemade butter Warm hugs, laughs and flour on noses Waft in on the breeze of now As generations of kitchens share Holding me true to their words   I’M A QUARTER I’m a quarter and I’m a nothing I use to be a big deal.. way back when When I bought five people a soda pop When I paid for a gallon of gas Ah, life was good all those years ago I would be a part of everything “Got a quarter?” and, there I would be People were always calling my name ‘Course, those were the ‘good ol’ days, weren’t they? When me and my pals were popular We paid a toll and bought a paper And, we were much better than those dimes! Now, I’m not good for much any more I’m forced to hang out with other coins No longer the independent one Just part of a jingle of some change   SOMEBODY’S DEAD IN THERE Out back of Johnny Enfinger’s house His Daddy kept and old shed Word was we should never go inside Or we would find somebody dead No one ever had to tell me twice I was nearly scared to death Just hearin’ him tell me to stay out Dragged me down to my last breath But, of course, someone took that dare Thinkin’ there was nuthin’ to it The Carmichael boys, Seth and Jake Decided they would do it The very next night they went out And, found the old thing was locked Seth went to the truck for a tool Leaving Jake to face the shock Jake peeked through a dirty window And, shined his flashlight in Human bones stacked up in short piles Wiped his face from that grin Seth came back but Jake wasn’t there Folks heard Seth’s scream for miles The flashlight’s beam from inside the shed Held fast on a new bone pile   GET UP OFF YOUR BUTT Life comes along in drips and drabs As you sit around on your butt What new and exciting is there To help you get out of your rut? What have you thought you’d like to do If ever there was enough time? I bet you can think of some things While I continue with this rhyme! You could make something with your hands Like jewelry or knitting yarn You could call a friendly farmer With an offer to “muck” his barn! What about writing poetry? You’ve got it in you, I would bet! Don’t start saying you don’t know how! You haven’t even tried it yet! How about taking a few classes? Learn a trade or something brand new It will bring out your very best And, you’ll be really proud of you So, don’t sit around and wonder Find something that means a whole lot And, pretty soon you’ll be smiling So happy with all that you’ve got!   GARDEN THERAPY Sweat streaks down my face in the garden As I plant and weed and sow Feeling so good in the blazing heat As I move from row to row Tomatoes are ready for harvest They bask in the sun’s warm light Eggplant, okra and cucumbers too I’ll make some cornbread tonight! Such a good feeling grows in here too Free therapy for the stressed No slumped shoulders from life’s burdens Work a garden I suggest Time to take the bounty inside Where the AC waits for me! That’s enough therapy for today How about a glass of iced tea?!