Man with the Keys -- a Write for the Sunday Muse

On my way 

I'm flying my way to eternity

God furnished this silver beast of the sea 

I'm passing over where I had used to live 

Now high in the sky not allowed to dive 

That means there really is no turning back 

Peered into my tube those behind I see 

Distant relatives not waving at me 

They've decided to stay and not to go 

Another winter stay--play in the snow 

Fearful and masked for them it's too late now 

Some are trying to come up anyhow 

Their future I don't know--for sure they'll bow 

They've waded in the pond to have a dip 

Saw sister doing--saw sense not a bit 

Friend Peter at the door--he has the key 

Others struggling like scare crows they can't move 

Stuck in the ground to ride their earthly poles 

Wings won't fly that way--only to the east  

Their need like sister's silver flying beast 

Stuck tied to the ground will never get loose 

Comes the new dawn skyscrapers turn to trees 

The forest gives those with a light the creeps 

Worms are scurrying underground to hide 

Wait until dawn try the problem to find 

Darkness--Moon, Sun, and shining light go out 

All doors are locked there's no way to go up 

Masses crowd into the hall--push and shove 

Safety inside? This isn't really right 

Outside there seems to be no help or light 

Friend Peter minds the door--he has the key 

Tombstones fallen and graves to fill 

Emptied by beasts--they've silver wings and gills 

We're going to Peter, man with the keys 

_ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2023, All Rights Reserved 

 - Pictures and Photo furnished by Carrie Van Horn for our inspiration at the Sunday Muse #247,  

     https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2023/02/sunday-muse-247.html 

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Ladies I Knew - a Poem for the Sunday Muse

To the ladies I have known

Some for a day 

others seemed and hoped forever. 

I've changes your names, 

to "protect the innocent "

Painting by Richard Burlet “Woman in Blue” 

My first steady girl friend 

Earline, a very fancy girl 

came from a farm but then 

lived in the YWCA 

Curfew at Eleven PM 

cut out of foolishness 

After eleven the cruise gang 

was just beginning to 

take the streets 

We dated for about a year 

Mrs. Farmer lived downstairs 

She'd covered her back patio 

made extra room 

for her niece who lived with 

Mrs. F was my landlady  

didn't mind my oddities 

The niece left for Israel to live 

I moved closer to my work 

I never saw Mrs. Farmer 

or her niece again 

National Geographic 1959 Inuit boy, Alaska 

Made coffee the boss and more 

Bets liked me a lot, a fun girl 

came to visit me a lot too 

We'd go for motorcycle rides 

Never serious body closeness 

One day after lunch, 

a going way party for a fellow,

we didn't come back to work that day 

Her husband was off to war 

she left our work when he came back  

Bees near her bonnet--didn't let them in 

I called her my Hippie Friend 

barefoot, straggly blond hair 

cutoff jeans, bicycle at the stairs 

yellow dog waiting there for her 

Smart as a whip, "A" in calculous 

studied it in English class, back class row 

For "Contemporary Economics" class 

built a sidewalk for underprivileged school kids 

we took my VW Bug way up north 

Three of my lady friends 

each married a buddy of mine  

Angel was fancy, like fancy parties 

she invited me to escort her one night 

Houston Rodeo Kick Off Party, 

at the Coliseum guest ball room 

Helena married my race car driver bud,  

her sister Irene and I sat in the back seat 

the night before her wedding, 

her fiancé was driving

Mrs. Jim I married years and years ago 

Though there were a few others, 

my foolishness was over, parked my motorcycle 

when she was of child 

I love her dearly, she the 

dearest real love ever one could find 

She found me at a singles supper 

that our apartment landlady was giving 

We didn't know each other before 

and I was not supposed to be there 

It was the first night of my night class 

but the prof took role and apologized 

He let us go home--my Buddy Mike and his lady friend 

had saved me a plate, saying "Jim might come"

I came and the 

rest was history 

[click on photo for larger view, click once or twice]
[We were ready to depart from Aukland, NZ]

 - Bottom Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2013 and 2023 respectfully, All Rights Reserved 

 - The rest of photos are the ones that Carrie , hosting, has chosen for inspiration for us to write, at the Sunday Muse #242, I decided to choose every one of them,  

https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2023/01/sunday-muse-242.html 

 - I am also posting it one of my other blogs, "To All the Girls . . . " at  

  https://jimmielife1.blogspot.com/  

 - I am also linking to dVerse Saturday February 18 at 

  - You can read other writers' entries here,  

https://www.blenza.com/linkies/links.php?owner=dversepoets&postid=10Feb2023&meme=13354 

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The Golf Game, or was it - a Write for Friday Writings

A part of my former Tuesday Morning Golf Group

 

  My Game of Golf; and Experience of a Lifetime 

    Today I was approached by the folk at the Olympics in process.  They invited me to join the U.S.A. Men's Golf Team at the spur of the moment.  A member of the team had become violently ill and was unable to play in competitions on-going.  And the backup player had circumstances developing which he must deal with and would also be unable to compete. 

    It didn't take long for me to accept even though I afterwards had several situations in my playing that had to be dealt with.  First was whether or not I could ride a cart and get close with it up to the greens. Also flying that handicap flag allowed me to take the cart onto the fairways for the par three holes. I was 89 years old, that and my artificial knee had allowed the cart privilege in regular and tournament play. 

    Next came my physical readiness, I had not played golf for seven years after experiencing pain in my knee each time I played, the pain lasted the next day and part of the third day as well. Could I adapt my swing so not to turn my left knee while hitting the ball? 

    Another thing, I was way out of practice. Back when I played my handicap was in the twenties, definitely not in the regular competition range. But they needed me today, I would play alone until I caught the group. I should get a new wardrobe and shoes, but probably what I had would make do. 

    I said, “Yes, I would play, right after lunch.” 

    I didn't know right away when I woke up, it all seemed so real. But obviously it was a dream, a very enjoyable dream. 

    And finally in the dream, they asked me to feel out the Mrs. to see if she would serve as a backup for the ladies.  When I told her, still in my dreams, of my experiences she took the invitation under consideration.  Even after I told her of the preposterous dream that I had the night before, she said she would.  Then she laughed.  

    I hope that another day this dream will continue, I would like to see how things turned out. 

 _ _ _ _ 

 - 369 Words, the maximum allowed for Friday Writings 

 - Photo and Write Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022 (link) and 2023, All Rights Reserved

 - I am linked with Magaly at Friday Writings #64, at 

     https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/

 - Magaly has invited us to write poetry or prose inspired by the following Neil Gaiman quote: “Life is always going to be stranger than fiction, because fiction has to be convincing, and life doesn’t.” 

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A New Year - a Write for dVerse Prosery

 Coming down the 7th Heaven Lift at the very top of Blackcomb Mtn. It was -17 degrees Celsius here and FREEZING!!! (our daughter at Whistler, British Columbia, Canada)

       The 19th of February 

It was the 19th of February, Bernard hadn't yet visited the snow slopes this year.  Six weeks now waiting for his leg to heal. He was missing Alma, she loved skiing. He hadn't seen her since the party New Years eve, that celebrated night. 

He would stop in and see if she was in or leave a note if not.  Too bad her mailbox was full, or he would have left a message.  He was getting to know her fairly well, he was really anxious to see her once again. 

He was heading to her door, hastening his pace when he saw a note. Closer, he saw it was for him. She knew he'd called! Opening it, in bold letters it said, “This year's a different thing, – I'll not think of you.” With a tear in his eye, he quickly headed back home. 

_ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2023, All Rights Reserved 

 - I'm linked with Merrill Smith for today's dVerse Prosery assignment at 

     https://dversepoets.com/2023/02/13/prosery-last-year-lost-love/ 

 - To read others writing using this prompt, click here.

 - Merrill's instructions: 

• Write a piece of flash fiction or other prose up of up to or exactly 144 words, including the given line from the poem, “This year’s a different  thing, -- I’ll not think of you.” from Charlotte Mew, “I so liked Spring” 
• I have exactly 144 Words, my typing fingers wanted to do more.  
•  .. 

Super Bowl - a Limerick

   

Courtesy Fortune.com click here

        Game Night

Super Bowl is worthy of watching

If it's not then catnap is catching

It was fun tonight

My team won their fight

Nickles and dollars bets I'm fetching 

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 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2023, All Rights Reserved 

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