In response to Cee’s last “Pink Boots” addition, here is mine!!! (Cee’s look suspiciously uncomfortable, don’t you think?) Here’s a cowgirl who is making an early fashion statement:
A friend furnished me with this photo of her first great-granddaughter. I think we are really getting into this spontaneous boot challenge. Do you have a boot photo that needs to be seen? If so, send it on over!
Every day a new pleasure. One of my newest small bushes. Just getting a start.
Within
Now that we’re approaching the crepuscule of our lives,
memories swarm through our minds like bees working their hives.
We hope that we are smarter and the young ones that we’ve mentored
have been better off for it— directed and more centered.
Now that we’ve had ample time to get ourselves on track,
let’s hope a bit sticks with us if in fact we wander back.
Perhaps those rare wise children who are born into their lives
able to cut through knowledge like butter cut by knives
are only remembering the lessons of their past,
and unlike all the rest of us have wisdom that can last.
Perhaps we call them wunderkinder, prodigies or sages,
marveling at that knowledge which belies their tender ages.
Whether these intuitions are a blessing or a curse
depends on if they use them for better or for worse.
We can’t dispute the forces that balance out our world—
that nucleus of evil that seems securely curled
within the beauties of existence: the love and charity.
It seems there is a darkness that creates a parity
that although it is ironic, maddening and heart-breaking
somehow has created us. It’s central to our making.
As we ponder now our purpose and prepare to leave this plane,
let’s hope that all we’ve learned in life has not been learned in vain,
and if we do return, we’ll be a blessing to creation—
an agent that builds fairness and beauty and elation.
This perpetual struggle that rips our world apart
perhaps can be solved best by evolution of the heart.
If within we make the progress that we have made without,
strengthen all our hopes and fight the fear and doubt,
we ourselves can be the change we seek within the others
and enemies and rivals can become sisters and brothers.
The prompt words were ample, mentor, smart and crepuscule. Here are the links:
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/09/18/rdp-tuesday-post-crepuscule/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/09/18/fowc-with-fandango-smart/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/09/18/mentor/
https://dailyaddictions542855004.wordpress.com/2018/09/17/daily-addictions-2018-week-37/ample
Cee and I seem to be having a bit of a private boot challenge going here. First, she published THIS, then I published THIS, then she published THIS and I published the blog you are viewing. If you’d like to join in, post your boots both HERE and HERE.
Phew. That’s a lot of links. Bet they’ll pick this up as spam. If not, come on. Show us your boots!!!
For the Pink challenge this week, Cee published a photo of a pair of pink cowboy boots. My competitive side came out, so I have to publish these two photos of the hot pink suede cowboy boots I wore with my wedding dress! Two of these gals who went to school with me from grade one through twelve came from Wyoming to California to witness this event they had probably decided would never happen so they had to witness it for themselves. The other one, also from Wyoming, I’d never met before, but she decided when she heard about those boots, no doubt, to come see for herself. Rita is in the middle, back row. Sheila is to your right. They are the two old friends.
Three blacks balance out the two pinks. The other feet belong to friends from my women’s poetry group in L.A. and to Liz, a friend I knew in Australia who came from Texas for the event. It was fun seeing folks from my varied lives all mixed together at the wedding. This was 31 years ago, folks, so no congratulations are in order.
Here is the prompt site: https://beckybofwinchester.com/2018/09/16/pink-september-squares-16/
The Pontificator
His ego is most copious, but alas, also fragile,
for his imagination is something less than agile.
He’s much given to adages that were coined by another:
prolific writers of the past, his preacher or his brother.
He’s not really a plagiarist. He just forgets the fact
that although he might perform it, he didn’t write the act!
His words, all gloss and polish, are lacking in much worth.
They seem to lack a kernel, though provided with much girth.
For all that they sound pretty—refined to a high gloss,
instead of rarest metal, alas, they’re merely dross.
In short, although they’re polished ’til they sparkle, glitter, gleam,
they ramble on without restraint, sadly lacking a theme.
The prompt words today are copious, fragile, gloss and theme. Here are the links:
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/09/17/rdp-monday-copious
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/09/17/fowc-with-fandango-fragile
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/09/17/gloss/
https://dailyaddictions542855004.wordpress.com/2018/09/17/daily-addictions-2018-week-37/theme
Good Taste
It was an ongoing debate
that never tended to abate.
One friend was too prone to oration
concerning the education
of her friend much given to
items that were too frou-frou:
clothing full of frills and ruching,
fluffy pillows good for smooshing,
carved furniture too ornate.
She feared bad taste would be her fate
forever unless she stepped in
to counteract what might have been.
She tried to teach her friend restraint
in ornaments and clothes and paint.
She tended to excoriate
items that were too ornate,
curbing her psychedelic bent
while showing her what Bauhaus meant.
She declared ruffled skirts too silly,
weeding out what was too frilly.
And though her friend declared it wasteful,
she threw out all that was not tasteful.
Ignoring her friend’s deep depression
as she culled out each possession.
She honed her house goods, cleared her shelves,
deprived her yard of frogs and elves.
Gave her flamingos to Good Will,
banned nicknacks on her window sill.
So finally, when she was through
relieving her of garish hue,
replacing all her things with new,
the friend knew what she had to do.
Her belongings spare, her wardrobe small,
her house was sparse, from wall-to-wall.
The most that she could say of it
was it was tasteful, but lacking wit.
‘Til when the culling was all ended,
the one thing left that still offended
was the friend who had advised her.
By the end, how she despised her.
So, with her training in good taste,
she acted now in confidant haste.
She first picked up, quickly upending
one last thing that needed tending—
dragged it clear across the floor
and tossed it out of her front door.
And that is how it came to pass
she pitched her friend out on her ass!
For more examples of extreme bad taste, go to A Visit to the Weird.
Not Prone to Marry
I am a happy spinster—a perpetual “Miss.”
I cannot fathom sinking into a passioned kiss.
I am without an anchor. Obligations have I few.
No imperious husband tells me what to do.
I have no need to ferret out the reasons why I’m single.
It’s not for hate of men and I am not loath to mingle.
I simply like my privacy, have no need for a kid.
While others chose to say “I do,” I simply never did.
The prompt words today are fathom, anchor, imperious and ferret. Here are the links:
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/09/16/rdp-sunday-fathom/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/09/16/fowc-with-fandango-anchor/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/09/16/imperious/
http://www.inlinkz.com/new/view.php?id=797445 ferret
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 