Tuesday, May 20, 2008

How I love my old refrigerator; don't know how to title this one right now...May 20, 2008

Oh how I love those magnets
and my refrigerator too
I can cover all those scratches
and this is what I do
I plop up the photos
that make me smile each day
I enjoy filling that cold-chest
and putting those carrots away
I slam the top; the bottom as well
I fill it up - and the photos tell
the story of my life and deeds
I've even tacked up a packet of seeds
those 'peel-off' stickies; the magnet
is my buddy
But photos gather dust and grease
and photos wind up 'cruddy'
Still, I love them - I don't see
the dirt
I see my joy
and forget any hurt.

Hey, that wasn't so bad - gotter done!
Now, I need a title....

I wrote this May 14, 1994 - TRASH-CANS APPEAL TO ME

I was surprised to hear my trash-cans talking
..collected by the patio..
I listened to their story
they were playing 'one-up-manship'
discussing their lives and glory
The saddest-looking one; no top - rusted
dented and dirty
was now retired to holding cat-box litter
discarded wood; broken glass
and nails
and he signed as he said:
"I'm not pretty...."
One - still with a top; a big dent that
made it bulge
he claimed he had a herniated disk
and he started to divulge
his secrets; the many mysteries
..then he spoke to the rest of the
He complained about that newest member
colored so bright - a square
who was now the President
(and on retainer)
like some attornies - yes, the 'new boss'
This new model we'd added
...the 'cleaner trash', in it
we'd toss...
"Tidy trash" - tidy trash is clean paper or styrofoam
or we might desginate it to hold
earthquake items; food & flashlights
..keep it dry and sealed..
it would never be filled with mold!
Another can complained most bitterly
about their desginated task
when the smallest of them all interrupted and said:
"Can I ask..."
"Ask what..." the quartet demanded - irritated in their tone...
"Well I just wanted to tell you a miracle
given to me as I stood so alone..."
"Late, one night, I only had papers and pop-corn packing..
I felt so empty - so unfufilled; somehow I was lacking..."
"Then I heard foot-steps; a baby's cry
my top lifted up by a lady
then I heard her sigh..."
"Inside me she placed a new-born child
..covered the top, and I went wild!"
With glee - a new baby for me
I was a nest
for a child to rest
it didn't seem like the place for a babe
but I remember that Bible that was tossed away
and it talked about a
special son
who was born and placed in a tiny straw bed
after his life
had begun
So I held this one - like I was its womb
never realizing it might become
its tomb
And then I heard foot-steps as they walked away
it was then, I realized this child
had been abandoned...
...so I started to pray.
The next day I was fortunate to remember
that the owner was tidy as tidy could be
it was also Wednesday - the day before trash-day
so I knew I could get this baby free!
Calmed by this, I settled down - and with all my might
I shook a little to make the papers
like a mattress
I made it ever so soft
and the baby rested quietly
that Wednesday night.
On Thursday morning, sure enough - as
the sun came up; another day and new light,
The lady of the house brought the daily trash;
lifted up the top, and saw the child
resting near that bit of ribbon
and discarded
The child's legs now wiggled - tiny hands started to wave
then a tremendous cry emerged...my, that baby
was brave!
I heard my owner gasp in surprise
she said: "What a wonderful gift I've found; this tiny bundle
...and what beautiful eyes!"
Well can you believe, by the time the day ended for me
I was on television - a regular
So many people helped and rejoiced
and later I heard this child has been
by choice
Now 2 loving people who had no child - not even one
they adopted this little munchkin
and now they have a son!
Just like that story about the son of God
they got a son from a trash-can
...little old me.. - sitting on the grass
thinking 'now he'll grow to be a man'...
Well wouldn't you know, my owner said I was the best trash-can she'd
ever had
and she rewarded me from that time on
by lining me carefully - those liners she calls
Once my mission was fulfilled - once I'd been deployed
I sat ever so strong - protecting my post
...never again was I annoyed
Well after the smallest can had impressed the entire group
they suddenly found a new-found pride
never again did they complain
about holding a pile of weeds and flowers - nope, they
simply rejoiced in storing
the things that
had died
They never said 'why me' - now they felt needed
they were vital; important
so each day they now greeted
they welcomed the visit
from that lady who showed up early
never again were they
angry or surly
And now I think about trash-cans and their mission
I look at all of them - they appeal to me
I realize they have a simple and special purpose
so I daily bring them 'presents'
and treat them very carefully...

I wrote this March 13, 1993 - 'FOR THE COMING SNOW'

Is there a star with many points
stuck to my weathered hat?
Upon my nose a few clustered, and I just
went trudging to find
my cat.
Following its foot-prints; light upon that silver fluff
The stars at midnight, sparkled over me
and the shadows of the moon trailed me
as I walked along the bluff
In the night I tripped over decaying trees
toppled - bent - some standing with the burden
of this late-night flurry
when a faint 'meow' from a distance sent
my footsteps - quickly did I hurry
for my furry friend
and if I must sum this up in a word
it was this little frail kitten of mine
found a few days earlier
it was this voice
My adopted friend had sneaked out 3 hours earlier
scampered quickly away
and I was packing up to leave; unable to pay the rent,
I had to move the very next day
I thought it absurd to cry - absurd, and I stopped - smiling
when I HEARD
I also saw in my mind's eye
my computer's cursor blinking - it idled after I ran outside - crying; oh my little friend...
why, oh why, oh why
and then I again, began to
As I race toward the sound, words start to flood my mind;
they all rhyme - such a strange time, and yet I
run - then walk - in the chill of that lonely night,
I'm now focused only
on that little kitten's plight
Why am I thinking about elephants - some type of tacky packy derm
and wonder if this is an elephant about which I'm supposed to speak
...no, it is the kitten - and now my legs are growing weak
This night - it's cold; chilling - damp
one would call it 'bleak'
Then I find my shivering, frightened cat
now I hold him against my cheek
Suddenly he purrs - we're back, and he's upon my lap
and I type quickly, this simple poem
I hold my half-frozen friend - typing; and he's quietly
'til the small pan in the kitchen
upon the stove
makes that small cup of milk
so perfectly