A "Wordy Thursday" ditty

The day I came to town I first saw
Saw you there standing in the window
Soon after we met, our worlds were changed
Melded together our lives as well
Chickens turned blue laid double yolked eggs
Cows and pigs all had twins turkeys smiled
The moon shined brighter love in its rays
Perfect match we were blessed by Heaven

~~ But now you've gone away ~~

I miss you so very much each day
Holidays are hard and things have changed
The birds don't eat, the cows don't don't give milk
The pigs are clean abandoned their mud
Darkened moon cries as do the turkeys
Things just aren't the same wish you'd come back
Won't happen until we meet again
The whole world watches for Heaven's new
 _ _ _ _

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2018, All Rights Reserved
 - I'm linked with Marian in the Imaginary Garden at http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2018/12/wordy-thursday-with-wild-woman.html?m=1
 - Marian has introduced us a new-to-me form, the Puente.   Read about it at the link above. Mine is written in Puente form.
 - I haven't experienced the death of a mate but  several of my close friends and cousins have.  And my first cousin lost her hubby late last week.  Although my Beagle dog was not human. She didn't know that. We were buddy buddy (link to Adi in my blogs).

a Poem from reminiscing times with my Grandparents

 
      To Grandma's house

Over the hills to Grandma's house
Does that make sense or ring a bell
For you?  It does to me
some I remember well

Christmas and Thanksgiving  most
Always we'd go.  Turkey perhaps not
I'm not sure she knew how it cooks
All the moms brought some
things but Turkey not

Aunt, mother of the oldest kids
she'd bring duck
I didn't eat duck I think all the kids
didn't although the adults swooned
when it came in the door

Most kids didn't like Grandma's
scalaped oysters but I did.  She made
them in a large tall pot
had soda crackers lining the
walls.  Then

once a year, I don't remember when
like spring or fall, we'd have
fried catfish caught fresh from
the Missouri River   they
were really good, I remember there'd
be yummy oyster stew too

Saturday nights Grandma and
Grandpa would always be home We

liked to come, Mom
would cook something good and
then head over there to
eat with them 
Cousins might come too

Grandpa had TV and we liked the
wrestling he would watch. We liked
TV and we didn't
have one at home.  After big holiday 
family meals us kids watched Howdy
Doody on his TV

Mom and I would eat
breakfast too with Grandma
mostly on Monday mornings when
Mom would bring over her laundry. 

We had no machine  Those days
I had a private audience with
Grandma,

and she with me 
Grandma was a school teacher before
she married   After that she stayed
at home, had kids, cooked and took
care of the kids

She took care of Grandpa too, washed his
clothes and found him food.  I know she
could cook regular stuff, fried eggs

and potatoes and oyster stew  
Grandpa was the boss,
boss of Mom and Dad, boss of me

But not boss of Grandma.  Grandpa had
three Midwest farms, all close together. 

(My father share cropped on the smallest,
120 acres.  The farm had to provide for
Mom, Dad, my younger sister, and me)
 _ _ _ _

 - Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2010 and 2018, All Rights Reserved
 - I'm linked with Sherry Blue Sky in the Imaginary Garden at http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2018/12/wordy-thursday-with-wild-woman.html 

 - This is all true.  Sherry wanted us to relate to some happenings or people or places that we were associated with in earlier days.

a Poem for Tuesday ~~ Not what it may seem

Coffee, fig preserves

 

A stain on the sheets

Breakfast in bed

Not what it may seem

Not even play

 

I have no answer

for you today

Coffee, fig preserves

Toast was blackened

 

A stain on the sheets

I have no answer

Not what it may seem

Coffee, fig preserves

 

Breakfast in bed

For you today

Not even play

Toast was blackened

_ _ _ _

 

 - Photo and Poem Copyright,  Jimmiehov 2018, All Rights Reserved
 - I'm linked with Sanaa Rizvi in the Imaginary Garden at http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2018/12/the-tuesday-platform.html