Saturday, December 15, 2018

My grandfather and I ~~ a Prose Poem

Favorite Grandchild

Doesn't every lass or lad think of being grandma or grandpa's favorite?  Well, I did. And so too probably did my sister and my seven cousins on Dad's side of our family. Whenever I had Grandpa alone I KNEW that I had an inside track with him.  Like the born-again KNOWS he's going to Heaven.  Tell you a couple or three.

First one I remember was when my sister was born, Grandpa came and got me with his pickup truck. He had his stud horse in the back and we would make some rounds that morning.  I really didn't appreciate him leaving me alone while he and the horse walked away.  My first second encounter with the birds and the bees, I was five.

After that alone time with Grandpa I don't remember him much in anything special.   He was always there and I took him for granted.  There was the time he took a toy away from my younger cousin for being selfish by not sharing it with me. "J" had two rather large  cast iron toy Yellow Taxi Cabs, replicas of about 1929 cabs. Grandpa then gave it to me, it became my favorite toy.  Until Dad accidentally backed over it with his tractor.

Grandpa once told my father to have my eyes tested as I was missing too many cockleburs when we were weeding the corn with hoes. My eyes were fine. Grandpa had a couple rows, he rode his horse while we others walked.  Another time in one of our numerous rides Grandpa promised me his 1955 Ford car when he died. I remembered that,  Grandpa didn't.

Grandpa died while I was away in the Army, I was in Texas and didn't go up to Nebraska for his funeral.  If I could leave loving memories with my Grands like Grandpa did for me, this life would probably be worth living twice as much.

Note:  Jim's offspring are five kids, six grandchildren, four great grandkids, and one great-great grandchild. Sixteen so far.
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 - Poem copyright, Jimmiehov 2018, All Rights Reserved
 - I'm linked with Msgaly Guerrero in the Imaginary Garden at
 - Magaly encouraged us to write in 131 words or less in prose form of a situation in the past, in our early life, one that has influenced our lives in the present.  I have greatly exceeded her ideal length, a mini-poem.  And there's way too much to get it edited down much--mine has 319 words without the 18 word Note.

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Thursday, December 13, 2018

Do you care? That's Thursday's Poem

Like to know

This may be the year I come out
For a long time even my kids
They didn't know, I wouldn't tell
But they figured out they don't care

I don't tell friends most wouldn't care
When the subject comes up they talk
Want to know to them it matters
It might to me as well I'd like

We like to know from each other
I'd be proud if I'm the oldest *

* My coming out will be a revealing of my age.  Not a whole lot of people know how old I really am.  I don't tell. 
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 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2018, All Rights Reserved

 - I'm linked with Marian in the Imaginary Garden at
 - Marian's post was about coming out of he closet like mine, but for her singer find (Youtube) it wasn't about revealing one's age.

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Tuesday, December 11, 2018

another Poem for Tuesday

Early in the morning

Early in the morning I awoke
Couldn't sleep so I got up to write
No poems today it's way too cold
Hush, the birds, they are singing their songs

Early this morning listen closely
You'll hear their song they're chirping away
About their neighbors about their friends
About their babies you may be next

Listen closely to their happy song
Hum their tune--write it down--your day's rhyme
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 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2018, All Rights Reserved
 - I'm linked with Sanaa Rizvi in the Imaginary Garden at

 - I took this petty picture for the birds in the tree.  In my picture I noticed there wasn't a cloud one in our beautiful Texas Sky.  We were walking back on the trail between our neighborhood and the next when I saw the birds in this tree.

Note the little Chickadee on the right, not sitting with the Black Birds.  When I got close enough to get a good picture, all of the birds except this little one flew off.  After they were gone, the Chickadee jumped up, branch by branch, until he was on top. 

I think he was laughing at the scaredy-cat Black Birds. 

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