Tag Archives: Wish

“The Wish” for SOCS, Dec 20, 2024

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Wish Wagon

Hear the clanging pots, the squeaky wheels?
Over the rise comes the peddler’s cart––
horse with head down, pulling the load,
the jolly man just dangling the whip over her flanks.

Pitchers, fry pans, mops and brooms,
a doll for sis and kites for the boys
who run to greet this week’s happening,
hoping that Pa has spare bills in his wallet this time.

Now hear the “Whoa, Nell!” and see Zeke, the peddler,
swing his bent frame down from his high perch,
Ma drying her hands as she emerges from the kitchen door,
sis attached to her skirts, shy but drawn irresistibly from safety

to see the wonders that the peddler draws from his wagon:
penny candies by the jar and safety pins.
Needles, spoons and dime novels.
Cloth for Ma of calico and new boots for Pa.

Rag rugs made by Ma and traded for a bucket
and a wash pan his last trip here
that haven’t sold and so he won’t need more.
Jangly bracelets like the city women wear.

Her brief laugh scoffs at them.
The very idea. But one finger runs them round
before it draws away. And in her eyes
there is a wistfulness we will not see again

for thirty more years, until another wagon
crests the hill and drives away with her,
that look again frozen on her face
for eternity.

The SOCS prompt is “wish.” Image from Unsplash.

A Dog’s Life (The Wish)

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A Dog’s Life (The Wish)

We wish our mom would come to bed but beg to no avail.
Our attempts to draw her in have gone beyond the pale!
We break our vow of silence to bark and bark and bark.
Our pleas, extravagantly loud, echo through the dark.

But she is so disorganized that she can’t come to rest.
There’s always one more task to do before she joins our nest.
Each dirty dish must be rinsed off, each Wordle game be played.
No single task so trivial that it can be delayed.

Headed for bed, there is another detour she must make
as she remembers one leftover slice of chocolate cake.
Once in the fridge, a pitcher of sangria comes to view.
Handy to wash down cake, she has a glass of it, or two.

Through the Virginia creeper, the Xmas lights are winking
and of course she must go out to end their constant blinking.
Once there, the pool calls her, so she has a little swim.
On the way to bed, she can resist no task or whim.

She trims the bougainvillea that spills over the water,
resisting not one dumb excuse to fool around and potter.
Meanwhile, we are waiting to curl up by her side
to stretch out on her legs and sleep. This wait we can’t abide.

We’ll curl up on her sweater so hastily abandoned,
right here on the bed, where luckily it landed
when she changed into her nightgown an hour ago or two—
before she found those other things that she just had to do.

It’s like this every evening wherein there’s no debate
about the fact that we will have to wait and wait and wait
until she finally joins us with no more for her to do
except work on her computer for an hour or two!

That a dog’s life isn’t easy is not hyperbolic
when you share it with a Mom who is a workaholic!!!

Prompt words are break, beg,extravagant, trivial and disorganized.

And, for Weekend Challenge: Wish

Don’t Make Me!

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The Prompt:Kick the Bucket—What are the top items on your anti-bucket list — those things you never, ever want to do, places you never want to visit, books you never want to read, etc.?

Don’t Make Me

Please don’t ever make me go back to Cancun.
If I never return there, I’ve visited too soon.
Don’t make me go to church again or listen to more rap.
Don’t make me go to bed at eight or take a daily nap.
I don’t want to do those things I don’t want to do.
Don’t make me look at animals trapped up in a zoo.

Brains are meant for keeping up farther in your head.
To have to eat the things I think with fills my mind with dread.
Don’t make me eat anything only adults eat:
liver, caviar, pate, kidneys or pigs’ feet.
All of those are parts of animals I’ve come to fear,
for none of them are meant to put in human mouths, my dear.

I think that I’ll live longer without jumping from above.
For bungee cords or parachutes I have no sort of love.
Even roller coasters present uncalled-for risk.
For me a walk upon the beach is adequately brisk.
Anything that’s bumpy, jerky, swooping, fast or twirly
makes me want to arrive late and go home really early.

Please don’t make me listen to those who rant and rave.
If I meet them in the street, I’ll merely nod and wave.
Let bores much given to monologues find another ear;
because those who never listen, I have no wish to hear.
Tea-partiers, loud mouths, bigots and folks in the elite
are on my list of strangers I do not need to meet.

I hope no radiation or chemotherapy
is ever necessary to make me cancer-free.
No machines to make me breathe and no dialysis.
As little poking, pushing, testing and analysis
as possible is what I wish for on my “do not” list.
Just let me go gently into that final mist.

I’ve grown to hate the overuse of “bucket list” as label
for what folks want to do before their death if they are able.
So please be more original in thinking what to call
that list of things that you most want to do before you fall.
For the thing I don’t want as “I am” turns into “been”
Is to ever hear the phrase of “bucket list” again!

You might be able to find a list of other people who have answered this prompt by clicking on each person who has “liked” this topic here:

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/kick-the-bucket/