Wednesday, October 27, 2021

Weekly Scribblings - What if's today - Do it again?

This will be my last "Weekly Scribblings" post as it's sponsors are merging it with another posting on another day.  I may rejoin the enjoyment of reading and writing poems there when I catch up on some other tasks of which I'm behind.  I still intend to post here "The Sunday Muse" and perhaps a few others midweeks.

    If I were, . . . 

If I were little kid again 
I'd have my monkey near 
Made from blue, white, and red stockings 
His red nose from the heel
I'd be hugging him close to my chest 
Or he'd be hugging me 
I'd drag him around--we hand in hand 
Close to me always be 


And I were a bit bigger kid 
I'd be playing cousins 
Cousin things playing on Grandma's floor 
Cars and trucks we would drive  
He would always have more toys than I 
Taxi cabs he'd have two 
So Grandpa'd make him give me one 
Mine to keep take it home 

If I were a big kid again 
A bicycle alone 
Little sister would have her own 
The girls bike could be hers 
Sharing bicycles is the pits 
Thing boys needn't do 


Were I a teenage lad again 
Smoking I wouldn't do 
Cigarettes would stay in their place 
Uncle's glove compartment 
It's there they should have stayed 
Gave my sister one, she smoked two 
Made her sick, be no more  

Were I young again, drop out days 
My Ford would still be fast 
Back then my car was a "sleeper" 
It looked stock but watch out 
The fifty-two Ford would out run 
any Chevy around 
Bored and stroked, ported and relieved, 
street cam, dust you at lights 


If I were younger mid forties 
I'd have my Beagle dog 
Be a therapy pair again 
She would still be the best 
Visit hospitals, senior homes, 
help children learn to read 

 - - - 
 
You wonder where your toys have gone 
Sleeping away some place 
In a drawer or a cardboard box 
High on a closet shelf 

My toy monkey is lost, I looked 
This morning writer's break 
The taxi died, not of old age 
Left outside crushed by car 
 
Sister had kept the bicycle 
Hung on a garage peg 
Cigarettes and pipes, chew and dip,
I too have quit, forties 

I sometimes wonder, "Ford still runs?" 
Saw her once on the street 
Still wanting to race at the light 
Jealous, others I've had 

Adi died, my sweet Beagle dog 
Carry her picture now 

That's the end of this yarn right now 
More to come, perhaps 

 - - - 


       This is another toy, 
       "Educated Monkey"  
       He helped me learn my math 
       He used his hands and his feet 

       One foot on Your Number 
       Other was directed 
       as the Multiplier 
       Hands would hold the Product 

 - - - 

 - Poem and Photos Copywrite, Jimmiehov 2021 and earlier, All Rights Reserved 
 - Chesterfield Cigarettes, 2018 http://jimmiehov.blogspot.com/2018/09/weekend-roundup-11-18b-for-letter-k.html "Screen Print" photo from a site that I have forgotten 
 - I am linked with Rommy at The Weekly Scribblings #93,  https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2021/10/weekly-scribblings-93-kid-stuff.html 
 - Rommy is hosting the last Weekly Scribblings forever, and as our last Wednesday prompt, has asked us to “write about something we really enjoyed in childhood – a toy, a book, a place, a movie – anything that held a place in your heart back then.
 - I smoked from age 17 until our younger daughter was born.  I still like to drive fast cars, I've been up to 150 steady on the German Autobahn, here momentarily to 140 testing a car, and still have a pretty fast 1998 Mustang GT Convertible.  The educated monkey is one my son bought me on eBay when he thought that I had lost my original hand-me-down now well over 100 years old.  The Taxi Cab did get run over and was crushed after I had left it out all night being my dad's tractor. 
More of my toys posts (my toys and some others) are found by the Label below and on my other fairly active blog, https://jimmiehov.blogspot.com/search?q=Toys&m=1 

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Sunday, October 24, 2021

Sunday Muse - Stealing through the night

 

  Space Man Walking the Streets 

He comes in the middle of the night 
No one knows how he gets here 
They say he's looking for specimens 
Humans for sake of science 

There's no one missing that we know 
Dogs and cats some rabbits too 
Birds large and small, fish and turtles 
Don't let him come near to yours 

Was 'shopping' secretly, clandestine 
But as of late he's come out
Walking the streets, covers gone  
Searching, specimens correct 

Will it be a healthy you or me 
Walking the streets, hope neither 

 - - - 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 
 - Photo furnished for our inspiration by Carrie with The Sunday Muse #183,  http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2021/10/sunday-muse-183.html?m=1 
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