– A U T H O R –
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A QUIET PLACE, NO REALLY!
Ever feel like you needed to go hide?
Yea, so have I, except I do go hide, inside my head. Once in a while, my feet take me on adventures to far-off lands too. Believe it or not, an adventure last weekend had me finding a fossilized alligator head. Try that for a find in Missouri. This guy has to be a few thousand years old, and I found him in a hidden ravine in the hills. Sometime in the distant past, this place was tropical and had lots of water. Suffice to say, and one would not want to be swimming with this one. He was smack dab in the middle of my quiet place too. Carrying out a forty-pound rock head about killed me, but it is pretty cool. He stayed silent, so I might return to see if there are any of his relatives lying around.
A QUIET PLACE
To depart this realm, leave behind no trace,
A crowning desire, find my quiet place.
Troubles come no more, crowds they disappear,
There’s peace, contentment; no one knows me here.
My thoughts think I, inner eyes clearly see,
That hidden spot made perfect, just for me.
All action slows; for now, there is no race,
Break-in time, magic spills within this space.
Find enchantment free from life’s heavyweight,
No sound pollution, what a happy fate.
Nature’s noises muted, most full of grace,
Hidden creatures, water ferns, made of lace.
Strumming insect serenades cut the air,
Playing all around wooden moss-bound chair.
Fine stony pool forms nature’s painted vase,
Within, see water minnow’s merry chase.
World outside held back, shielded from this sight,
Time to reflect inside; too fast comes night.
Sometimes I’ll leave, pick up once more my pace,
For now, I’m healing in a quiet place.
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I am writing number two in my series of marital discord blogs and poems.
Marital disharmony came to mind as I walked up the drive the other night.
Big game today, or every day for us patriots.
A short 55 years have passed since last I shot myself, seems like only yesterday.
I’ve always been a dog man, oh don’t get me wrong, cats are ok but they just aren’t loyal like a dog, so we had dogs.
A man in church with my wife listened to the sermon and remarked how he guessed we are all “second string angels.”
I’m full up on taking crap and keeping my mouth shut.
My fanciful love story, don’t you love this this time of year!
For some reason, I started thinking about a chicken in the hen-house.
My mind works in devious fashion sometimes, and this one came out at my wife’s request.