Friday, January 17, 2014

Walking Friends ~~ a poem with prose

A walk around the block
[Mrs. Jim, KP, and Billy walking in their neighborhood]

The wife and I love to travel.  Europe is our favorite
but we've been to many, many places in this world. 

Most of our holiday spending for the last four years
has involved being in London to visit our grand-
daughters, BP and KP, now aged 16 and almost five.

We've traveled out from their home, taking day
and weekend trips and a couple of cruises to
the Baltic and Black Seas (link1, link2).

The little London family has no car so we are relegated
to public transportation or walking to get around.

On one of these walks I crossed paths with
the loveliest little older couple.  They were
always walking, mostly around the long block
we all seemed to live on.  I'd say that would be
over a half mile and perhaps closer to a mile.

That was very long for them, I would often
see the lady bending down with hands almost to
the sidewalk.  I thought she was short of breath.
But later I found it was that and also a
sort of stretching exercise for her.

One day I saw them stopped near a bench
and on the bench were three sacks of groceries. 

It turned that the man was carrying, or trying
to carry, all three of them.  They had been to
the grocery store across Wellington St,
which was a part of their regular walk. 

The gentleman would not let me carry these
packages to their flat.  This, even though he
trusted me somewhat from our regular farmer's
greeting as we passed those many times. 

Later, after several more times of tip of the hat
greetings, I would stop for a small chat with him 
while his wife did her bending down thing.

 [KP loves to walk in the park, kicking leaves
or rustling the last summer grasses, here still
standing in October.  She likes the playground
part and the places where she can run too.]
Had I my car I would have offered then an
escape from the neighborhood, perhaps taking
them to the park.  But they cannot walk that
far and I wouldn't want to escort them on
the Tube or a bus for fear of overstepping
all of our limited senior navigation capabilities.

We could have walked perhaps another short block
from the grocery store to this lovely gelato place. 

The Gelato Mio is one of KP's and my favorite places
to go.  Fill your card with British Pound punches
and you'll have a free cone. 
We've done that lot's of times, KP and I.

There will be a day, perhaps on our visit this spring,
when the bench will be empty.  No groceries nor
the elderly couple, that is the way this life goes. 
One other thing, they are just a little older than I am.
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Photo and Poem  Copyright © 2013 and 2014 Jimmiehov. All Rights Reserved
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2017 Notes:
 - 1.  Now that the kids are back here to stay the picture would be Mrs. Jim, KP, me, walking KP to and/or from school. Not every day, some are scheduled. Other days for when her parents cannot. If in the mornings then Mrs. Jim and I continue walking for 30 minutes or more. And KP is older now, we don't hold hands anymore.
 - 2.  Today, Tuesday, January 17, 2017, I've linked again with the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Tuesday Challenge (a post anything day, old or new--Facebook prompted me to repost this one).  

 - 3.  At today's Garden post (linked above), Kerry O'Conner wrote of poems being similar to trees in that if shared they are like trees being planted.  How they grow or survive is similar to the after steps taken.

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Wednesday, January 15, 2014

A Personal Challenge Poem

Missing the spiritual bald yew tree;
was it just a screwy dream?

He opened his back door hoping to see
the full moon rising above the rooftops.

But all he could see was a blue sky,
seething with blackness and stars.
The silence was interrupted by
the croaking tongues of hordes
of murmurous frogs.

The frogs, wearing garments
of mottled green, had appeared
on this night after a day of rain.

It was then that he realized he was
treading near the edge of the wild
ahead, dimly lighted by a few candles.

There was no moon tonight. 
White knuckle fright beset him,
ever he was afraid of frogs, in the dark. 
Oh could he safely reach that back door,
his defender of sanity, once again?

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Photo and Poem  Copyright © 2013 and 2014 Jimmiehov. All Rights Reserved
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I'm linked today with the Real Toads, The Personal Challenge
At the "Toads", Brenden challenged poem writers to use at least five of the words listed below.  I used all but three in my little ditty for today. (I did use the other three in my title.)
The picture is one I took showing the outside of our airplane window, pitch black, when we were crossing the International Date Line.  No moon that night either, just 'the line' out there in the dark which no one could see (link to a previous post).

The list: (I've used the one marked with "**", the three marked "^^" I put into my title)
knuckle **
tongues **
candles **
wild **
murmurous **
silence **
yew ^^
garments **
blackness **
spirituous ^^
bald ^^
door **
moon **
blue **

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Monday, January 13, 2014

A book title poem


A Good Day

The elements:
A thousand mornings;
The poetry home repair manual;
Mr. Monk on patrol.

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Photo and Poem  Copyright © 2014 Jimmiehov. All Rights Reserved
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There is a name for this type poetry, I did not invent it. 
 The name has escaped from me on "this morning."

These books are a sampling of my everyday reading.
I also like younger classics such as Hemingway, Twain and Dickens.
I am linked today with the Real Toads, Open Link Monday

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