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EXCERPT from TEMP JOB
Bend, scoop, straighten, toss, repeat procedure.
Somehow my new job didn’t seem as inviting as when my new employer had explained it to me. Then there was the smell. Downright earthy some folks might say. I thought the smell was a bit stronger than plain old dirt.
Ok, ok, I’m a stable boy. My back hurts. Pretty sure the smell from this place is all over me. So is the muck I’m getting paid next to nothing to scoop up and cart away. Got into town yesterday with barely more than the clothes I was wearing. Did a few months in a town jail a few miles from here for ripping off some little joint for some grub. I was hungry and couldn’t get a break. Didn’t get one that time either. Six months seemed a little excessive for supper, but that’s what happened.
DRUMMER BOY IN RETROSPECT
Thought about the drummer boy
So poor he had no gift to give
Then offered all he had of self
By that thought so should we all live
Is not the soul our greatest gift?
What more have we to offer
No money is there in Heaven
The heart is our richest coffer
How much was the final cost
Our savior paid dying for us
What is the price we seldom pay?
To praise and sing his chorus
O so much like you drummer boy
No gift have I fit for a king
So offer him my heart like you
From soul with praises sing.
Hey, it’s the Christmas season. Come back tomorrow for part two of TEMP JOB and another Christmas poem.
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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.