you start in the belly
of your momma I suppose
move from womb to room
your life begins to unfold
you’re fed clothed and housed
by the architect of you
they are seldom right
this you know for sure
now your grown and gone
from the womb of their armor
you bear your own fruit
to guide raise and chasten
you find you’re seldom right
from tots of your own
this is a normal life
your learning as you grow
mom and dad were right
almost every time
you had to take their place
to see their work of love
identifying with your parents
comes to late for some
many child or guardian
don’t take this time to term
and never have the pleasure
to see their life change
Newspaper article: Driving my moving weapon defensively
My latest article in the Maryland Independent, was published on August 1, 2017. It’s called, ‘Driving my moving weapon defensively’.
Saturday’s Ice Cream
Saturday was not a day of rest and relaxation, but it was a day of fun and friends.
For close to a year now, I’ve been a member of a Charles County, MD. writers group called, Life Journeys Writers Guild (LJWG). From 2pm to 5pm on Saturday, July the 29th, close to sixty LJWG members were in attendance to our Big Quarterly meeting.
It was held at Regency Furniture Stadium in Waldorf, MD., which houses our Independent League baseball team, the Blue Crabs. We occupied the luxurious Legends Club, overlooking the field; with laughter, good finger food and two great speakers. By the way, we are always looking for new members.
The Blue Crabs had a game after our meeting and those who wanted to watch it were given free tickets. About a dozen of us stayed and enjoyed the game.
It was a Star Wars theme, and we enjoyed all the characters that were prodded out for our amusement. Our fearless leader, Yvonne Medley, was full of laughter as she guided us to a great day. You can see her hiding behind our collection of writers, next to the big blue and white critter called, Pinch.
Around the fourth inning, I set out on a very important mission. I braved the crowds by myself in search of the perfect ice cream cone. My first stop was the rest room, then I walked past the alcohol vendor, but I was distracted by an image of immense satisfaction and missed the first ice cream spot.
I’m a Washington Redskin fan, so the colors of burgundy, white and gold stand out. The unexpected vision of beauty momentarily froze me in place. However, it didn’t take long to move my feet and get a closer look at those colors.
As usual I like to get right in the middle of things, confirmed by the photo below. I might be old, but I ain’t dead yet. Can you tell by my grin? I hung out and flirted with these scantily clad young ladies, till I ran out of lies to tell them about my greatness.
After I bought their personally signed calendar, I turned and went back to the group. The guys were secretly giving me kudos, while the women of the group ribbed me about my purchase. Needless to say, I forgot all about the ice cream and had to go back later to get it.
Sharon’s words: Emerald, Heaven & Ocean
Sharon and her parents normally met somewhere near the Florida Keys for their annual vacation. This year however, their furloughs coincided with spring break. It was quickly determined to stay clear of the college kids and all the hoopla that went along with them.
Mom and pop fell back on their usual pattern of thought and asked Sharon if she would make all the arrangements. Of course she said, “I’ll take care of it.” She settled on a Gulf Coast destination instead of the OCEAN. Partly because she found a cozy little place close to ‘Fort Walton Beach, FL.’, and also because it was a quaint little strip of the EMERALD Coast.
Sharon’s dad, Bob, relished using water for fishing. What he really appreciated though, was the rest he got once he settled into the right spot. Her mom, Mary, loved water and the beach. She liked the sun and sand, which always meant sunburn and sand everywhere.
Within an hour of checking into their room, her and Mary were on a somewhat secluded area of the nearest beach. It boasted a blueish green water, that smoothly splashed along the shore line. The water was so clear, you could walk several hundred feet into the Gulf and still see your feet wiggle in the sand. It was beyond paradise, it was Glory.
Bob wasn’t impressed with the Gulf Coast, because he had a different setting in mind. Two rods, tackle box and a rental truck put him north bound for the pan handle lakes.
After a dozen miles or so, he found it. A peaceful little spot of sand on the south side, of the second lake he came to. It had wooded areas to the left and right with small walking paths in each direction.
He stood on the warm dry sand in his flip flops with his tackle box in his left hand and fishing rods in his right, gazing across the calm water. He was searching for the spot, the perfect spot, the only spot. So he took his time, closed his eyes, gulped down several deep breaths and began to search with his ears.
Without opening his eyes he turned to his right and took a half a dozen steps or so before he opened them. There it was, the long large tree laying on sand and leaves ten feet from the water. The spot was under an umbrella of Palm and Cypress trees and chock-full of an ample mix of flora. It was perfect, he didn’t need to search anymore, and it didn’t matter if he caught a fish – it was HEAVEN.