Memories of Loves Past

Memories of Loves Past

To improve those ancient feelings regarding love that’s past—
all of those sad endings for love that didn’t last—
relate the facts as comedy. Banter about life’s failings.
Laughter serves you better than retroactive wailings!

Actually, the past love I’m fighting sad feelings about today is the 22 year old Royal Poinciana tree that they are cutting down today. It had root rot and was in danger of falling so it had to be done. So, unbeknownst to me, I gave myself good advice in writing this poem which started out to be about love of another variety.  Here is the tree in all its former glory:

Prompt words today are ancient, improve, feelings, related, banter


A Canine Lover’s Creed

A Canine Lover’s Creed

My love is ambidextrous, dispensed by either hand,
dished out in two varieties: dried kibble or in canned.
Bestowed in pats and scratchings on tummies or on ears,
never controversial and never in arrears.

I am love’s first ambassador, affection’s main dispenser.
No love is deeper, wider, or more heartfelt or denser.
Whether sleeping, eating, playing or in any other guise,
I admire thee from wagging tail to thy chalcedony eyes.

I promise to protect thee from draft or snow or rain,
to deliver thee from hunger, thirst, distress and pain.
I’ll be grateful acceptor of your leaps and licks and chewings,
of all your puppy excesses and your destructive doings.

All that I ask you in return is that you love me, too,
and express that love by going outside to pee and poo!!!!

Prompt words are chalcedony, ambidextrous, ambassador, draft and controversial.

Click on photos to enlarge.


Forgottenman said I have to write a birthday poem, so here it is:


I will not curb my inhibitions, and so I will not sail
off on new adventures out beyond the pale.
That powerful compunction to be off on an adventure,
ever after, I declare to have my sincere censure.

Apathy is my new creed. I simply do not care
to meet with any challenges or answer any dare.
I’ll gaze upon my garden and watch its petals fall
and when faced with challenges? Reject them one and all.

I’ve officially retired. I’m taking up TV.
I’ll sit here eating popcorn, a cat upon my knee.
I’ll make up for a lifetime of my lack of viewing
and rail against what all the youngsters of today are doing.

I’m done with being active and current and involved.
I’ve lost my former need for being current and evolved.
Forget that I exist and let me moulder in my den.
I’m both used up and giving up on all that I have been.

Three-quarters of a century’s enough for being me.
Now I will investigate what else there is to be.
I’ll expire before the date that I am due for expiration,
and simply coast along for the rest of my duration.

(Don’t worry. It is meant tongue-in-cheek.)

Prompt words today are sail, apathy, powerful, suppress and petals.

Bouquet: FOTD, July 4, 2022

Gerber Daisies are my favorites. Here they are accompanied by carnations and baby’s breath.

For Cee’s Flower of the Day

On the Eve of the 4th of July, 2022

This essay by Jan Wilberg says it all so I will just borrow her words. Exactly how I feel. Beautifully stated.

Red's Wrap

I don’t have any patriotic clothing. I don’t own an American flag. And I’m hoping that the 4th of July parade in the small town where we are staying is rained out.

But last week at the ball game, I teared up at the Star Spangled Banner. It gets to me – even with all its militaristic excess. It’s that “land of the free and the home of the brave” that does me in.

I am ashamed of my country right now. Ashamed that institutions of governance – one after the other – fell prey to years’ long plots to disenfranchise the country’s majority. Ashamed that people doing normal things in a normal way can get caught up in an interaction with law enforcement that ends with their being riddled with bullets. Ashamed that adults charged with caring for the children of the world would icily tell a 10-year old…

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The 5-Day Birthday

My birthday stretched out for five days this year. To read about it, you need to click on the photos to read the captions.

David always makes his own recycled birthday cards. Here is this year’s:


Another Class Reunion

Another Class Reunion

The housewife and her classmates have staged a small reunion
to munch and drink but mainly talk—an annual communion
wherein they build a campfire and the drunker that they get
the more that they tell stories they’re afraid that they’ll forget
if they don’t repeat them yearly, so they tell them to their spouses,
who, I must admit, wish they’d remained home in their houses.
Yet, most don’t blame their loved ones for their memories of the past,
although they know they’ll hear them for as long as memories last.
They are ambassadors of patience as they hear each tale again,
about the wild and zany things their spouse did way back when. 


I’ll be going back to my class reunion/ town reunion in less than two weeks, but alas, with no spouse in tow. Stretching the truth a bit above. They only occur every 5 years and actually not that much drinking goes on. Poetic license, you know. The photos are, however, from  my town and class reunions of the past.


Prompts today are: classmates, housewife, munch, ambassador, blame and campfire.