JIM'S LITTLE PHOTO AND POEM PLACE

Hurts

Photo of Author's Knee Scars; Two Kneecap Replacement Surgeries

. . .

Hurts Remembered

Scratches and scars

On my belly

and on my mind

They come, some stay

Most forgotten

"How it got there,"

That is the clue

Mostly the hurt

Hurts of the mind

Some always stay

And don't you say,

"I ain't got none"

Sometimes of those

Keep to your self

Those silent hurts

And inborn tears

Also my scalp

Bicycle ride

Under tin roof

They're a bad match

Chunk of my scalp

Left for the birds

Scars of both kinds

They're remembered.

. . .

- I am am linked with "Friday Writings" 188 at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1 --

- This week, we were invitedy to find a scar on your body (or in your mind/heart), and write poetry or prose inspired by it (how it happened, how it makes you feel, what it means to you...). If you don’t have any scars (hey, it could happen!), then find inspiration in the concept of scars.

- Except for the scar on my head, where I cannot see it, there aren't any more. My picture is a vein popping out to the surface. It doesn't hurt, and won't go away, doesn't bother me, any grudge I have nourished is under the rug.

Not too bad for an old man, 92 come October's end. A cruise perhaps. Aging is getting some blame for helping COVID's leavings, taste, smell, balance, memorie's forgetfulness, . . .

. . .

Love Poem Ode ❤

All My Love

My heart went pitty patty that day I saw

I knew certainly you were cut out for me

Seems you saw me too I felt the earth shaking

Beauty did I dream

I'd seen the likes of you strolling on the street

Alone except for your mate what would he say

Perhaps he'd like a newer lass for the street

You could stroll with me.

Well, I bought you, dear Mustang GT 4.6

Convertible retirement present for me.

Now we cruise the streets together way we stroll

Consummate our love

. . .

- Photo is of my retirement present from myself to me. A 1998 Mustang I bought in 2000 and retired in 2001. I've had her, loved her ever since. The dog is Adi, my loving Beagle. We were a registered Pet Therapy Pair, Alzheiimer's residents loved us to visit.

- I am am linked with "Friday Writings" 187 at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1 --

- This week, we were asked to write a poem of celebration, whether of a person, a thing, an event… Optional extra: do it in the form of a Sapphic ode.

- I did write in Sapphic ode. The verses have four lines, the first three have eleven syllables, the fourth is with five syllables. These are often used in writing love poems.

In Uncertain Times

Resignation

Resignation, it's a word I never knew

Never knew, does that word now raise its mean head

Troubles ahead peaking around the corner

See THEIR ugly heads

Start with Mother Nature and her Climate Change

Papa Politic make up his mind he can't

Aunts and Uncles are dabbling Economy

Makes the Preachers swear

And others are nuzzling in should we resign

Then give up hope, dig our graves, find our shotguns

Not for me I'll wait and see if Better looms

Things change and adapt

. . .

- I am linked with Mary at WHAT'S GOING ON, https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/

- Come see and click other's names, they link to that person's write.

- I wrote here tonight using Sapphic Ode form. I like it. Three eleven syllable lines then one with five syllables.

Rules of Life

Strength, Riches, Class;

How we live

Like it or not, survival

of the fittest often rules

That's a rule nature uses

Like it or not, possessions,

Who has the most lives the best

Millionaires get what they want

Like it or not we may be

Under the thumb who has spite

Prejudice, racial or class

School kids learn the rules passed down

Pased from kids older than they

. . .

- Photo is of my youngest granddaughter at three years old, she is in high school now. It was taken at Pepa Pig Park near South Hampton, U.K.

- I am am linked with "Friday Writings" 186 at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1 -- This week, the optional prompt is, "Survive out of spite".

. . .

Man of the Streets

This will be the 2032nd post on this blog, the blog and first poem here was November 3, 2006. Some posts at the start could be a photo but no poem, other writings instead.

(Photo courtesy Piqsels)

Do You Know Him

Man of the streets, nobody cares

Man who's wanting to be your friend

Man who's passing offers his hand

The hand is not taken by most

Invariably they keep distance

Some folk will even cross the street

There must be a problem with him

That's often what they are thinking

Others don't wish to be involved

A few will shake his hand and leave

There was a college student near

He became friends with our old man

Shakes his hand every time they crossed

Often brings some food, burger, sandwich

Money not, man was no begger

. . .

(Note: I was the college student. We developed quite a friendship. Then after three semesters I dropped out of college and went back home. I think of the man often but have never returned. )

. . .

- I am linked with Sherry Blue Sky at"What's Going on" with the title today of "BEING HUMAN". You can find her here, https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/

- At that address besides prompt material you can also find other writers click name to read what they have written after studying that same prompt material.

. . .

Resting

Just Resting

Where do I go for rest

Where do you go for rest

Lots of funny places

Be like the koala bear

Up in its tree so snug

Noon day nap on the couch

As for me legs are up

Sitting in my big chair

Coffee or Coke beside

Couple cookies or toast

With the TV blaring

News, Family Freud, Dateline

And in my rest eyes close

Little nap does me good

. . .

I am linked with "What's Going on" where the prompt is "Rest"

New Start

. . .

Another Start

The divorce was enough to make me cry

Thirteen years been married so cried I did

Three long years cried at night, pillow was wet

Those three years nights alone, hermit's life

In that time only three, three dates I had

Not real dates, girls I knew, cheery outings

Football game, movie new, just things to do

Back to school, new degree, took up my nights

Then one night, for singles, Landlady's feast

A school night, couldn't come. Then lo that night,

Teach dismissed, early leave. Would there be food

Saved plate for me, my friend and his two friends.

One friend I knew, she was on off again

The other girl I'd never seen before

The two ladies jumped to when I showed up

"We've been saving a plate for you their chant

I sat beside the strange girl, ate my food

We all danced a little and got to know

Later goodbyes were said each our own way

Tick tock, tiick tock, time was running hum drum

Then one night before night class my phone rang

Was the strange girl I'd sat beside eating

"I m cooking Cajun Friday night come eat"

That's my bowling night . . . Well I'll get a sub

Leaving made a date for another eat

But I chickened out, lost my trust for girls

That was August. In December things changed

"Don’t be afraid to start over. This time

you’re not starting from scratch, you’re starting from

experience," a lady told me that

I mulled over what she said, should I try?

What the heck, nice girl needs a nice guy

February, our month to tie the knot

She was the strange girl no more, not with me

Now we've been together fifty-two years

..

- I am linked with "Friday Writings" 185 at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1 -- We have instructions to write a poem or a piece of prose, neither should not exceed 369 words not counting the title and notes. Today's write has exactly 292 as counted by my Open Office "Writer"

- This week, we were are invited to find inspiration in the following quote(wasn't told 'by who'"): “Don’t be afraid to start over. This time you’re not starting from scratch, you’re starting from experience,” I used them near the last of this poem.

- You can search my meme blog, I've related to the wedding best here, I think: https://jimmiehov.blogspot.com/2009/02/ruby-red-tuesday-red-roofed-jack-in-box.html?m=1

. . .

Puzzle Limerick

Another Orphan

There stood a pretty orphan tree

A growing child that could not be

Flower on its top

Growing would not stop

How could this be, child at his knee

- I am linked with "Friday Writings" 184 at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1

- This week, we were asked to to go formal: Write a limerick, a ballad or a sonnet – or to write on the subject of formality.

- I chose the limerick with a five line syllable count of 8,8,5,5,8. Limericks are usually written about persons, often something bad or funny. Since this one is about a plant using the identity of a child I call it a "Bad Limerick".

. . .

Politics

Voters' Dilemmas

There was an old fellow named trump

Wanted to be king make folk jump

Unwilling folk said their piece

Were saying "We've been fleeced"

Each to his own it's no small bump

. . .

- I am NOT linked with "Friday Writings" 184 at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1

- Directions for this COMING week were, "we'll be asking you to to go formal: Write a limerick, a ballad or a sonnet – or to write on the subject of formality."

- You can see I chose the limerick. In our country we are all very sensitive to this topic, just say our country is divided.

..

A Perfect Afternoon

(Click on pictures for larger viewing)

My Perfect Afternoon

We loaded the car, Adi and I

Its top was down, temperature just right

We headed south, the breeze was blowing

Car purring, Mustang Convertible

Adi was purring too, things she loved

We were a pet team, looking forward

A certified Pet Therapy Pair

Adi was my love, my Beagle dog

Visitors, we checked in at the desk

With tail wagging lady petted her

We're ushered to the Alzheiimer's wing

The door opened, her tail wagged faster

One by one she visited them all

The residents told of their doggies

Left at home waiting for them to come

Little they knew, that would not happen

We spent the afternoon visiting

Make residents happy, some wiped tears

. . .

- I am linked with "Friday Writings" 183 at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1

- This week, we have been invited to write about a perfect afternoon—either one we had or would like to have.

- Adi has written her meme, you can read it here, https://jimmiehov.blogspot.com/2008/04/adi-about-me-little-meme.html?m=1

p.s. Adi died in year 2012. We still miss her very much, and haven't had a dog or any pet since.

..

Anger

A free "Fiery snarling dog" photo courtesy of StockCake

. . .

Anger and Us Folks

It has been said, "Anger is good

for ones health." Now how can that be

I disagree

Like the snarling dog there"s a bite

Raises blood pressure to ones bounds?

Blow your top

And anger is good for ones soul?

"Loving thy neighbor as thyself?"

Get revenge

It's good for family relations?

You can take it out on the kids!

Child cruelty

Troubles on the job with your boss?

Can always come home and kick the dog!

Poor puppy

Suck it up! That's just how it is!

Now how to cheer up, get a pet.

Cat will purr

. . .

- I am linked with "Friday Writings" 182 at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1

- This week we're invited to explore anger as a healthy fuel

. . .

My Claim

A SPORADIC WRITING OF MY FEELINGS AND THOUGHTS. THEY COULD BE A LITTLE STRANGE AT TIMES. . . I DON'T INTEND TO OFFEND MY FRIENDS AND FAMILY BUT . . . . FOR SURE IT WON'T ALWAYS BE POLITICALLY CORRECT >>>>>>To search my blog go to the top left hand side, type your word(s) and hit "Enter" key.

Thursday, June 12, 2025My Claim

I Claim "Hotel California"

. . .

Please play the song and tap your feet

You'll find yourself at the Hotel

Worked best for me driving my car

I'm feeling sorry for the guest

In a trap he didn't ask for

When you need a mood play the song

Put your feet in the singer's place

Feel sorry for him in a trap

Can check out but he can not leave

Play it loud, shake your car mirrors

. . .

- I am linked with "Friday Writings" #181, https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1

. . .

- For this week, we were invited to "think of a piece of music which warms your heart whenever you happen to hear it played, and tell us what this particular piece has meant to you in your life. "

- That was hard for me until I remembered all the times I've listened to "Hotel California" by The Eagles.

You can listen to it here,

https://youtu.be/dLl4PZtxia8?si=Y_ocZLIipCbVpREF

Little Things

I'm writing today of a small thing, a toy of sorts that I hold dear. It is an English small functional toy in the form a guard. Functional in that he guards a store of M&M chocolate candies

My favorite deserts and candies are chocolate in some form. The guard came from England, brought to me by my daughter who was there on a work assignment.

I take good care of my candy dispensing toy and share the M&Ms with family. When his crop runs dry I may not give him more unless there is a special occasion.

Right now I cannot find my M&M stash so he won't have his store refilled until that shows up.

I'll tell a little about his past. London has an M&M store devoted solely to selling M&M candies and related merchandise mainly toys, eating necessities, and food preparation items. I am sure my guard came from there.

Here in Houston we have a "British Store". Next week I may be near the store, they have some British toys, could be some guards.

And how does he dispense the M&M candies? Folks can pull down his British flag and if he approves of that request he'll let several pieces fall into the trough on his floor in front of him.

I keep many of my childhood toys and now and then purchase some more. Many are die-cast scale car models, most are 1:18 scale. This one is a keeper for sure.

. . .

- I am linked with "Friday Writings" #180 at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1

- Added July 30, 2025. I also linked my chocolate giving British toy soldier with "What's Going on" at https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/2025/07/open-link.html

This week, we are invited to write about something very small (a thing, a concept, a belief…) that you are very stubborn about.

Down in the Valley

. . .

Down in the Valley

Way down in the valley

there was a little man

who had a little wife

'tween the two quite a pair

When they'd leave their valley

took two to climb the hill

red wagon he woul pull

she'd give it little shoves

Was over and over

and again and again

him tugging she would push

each day went up to town

They brought the wagon back

filled, food and needed stuff

they'd hop in, riding down

Over, over, again

Then one day the man fell

Oh Dear, my dear, help help

Help came helped the man up

into the wagon then

What's there now I can do

Help called the dogs, they came

Help hitched the three strongest

the wagon they would pull

Curious Villagers

running over they came

looked and saw little man

Hospital -- broken hip

Surgery fixed him up

sold house in the valley

moved to town, bigger house

came dogs and animals

Happy ever after

last time over again

. . .

- I am linked with "Friday Writings" at

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1

- My writing here will have its URL listed there along with that of the others who have writings to post for this week. Go there and you can see how some others have used the invitation there. POSTING WILL BEGIN THERE AFTER MIDNIGHT TOMORROW , EDT.

- This week we are invited to write poetry or prose which explores starting over... again and again.

. . .

Art pieces to appreciate

This weeks optional prompt Rommy posted last week for us is to write as inspired by a piece of art that we have chosen.

I have a soso pretty picture for my writing and from your experiences and my writing I hope you can envision it for me and you. Check it out.

. . .

Young Artist's Pleasure

As I do my daily walk I see sidewalk art the preschooler children have drawn and colored. Not obnoxious graffiti mind you.

Perhaps to most pedestrians it is but to the young artist it is drawing a piece with happy meaning.

Happy show and tell. People and friends, ones they know. We may not recognize who it is. Look for a name, description, or title.

Playmates and parents and family they like to draw. Or it might be a pet of theirs, could also be yours or mine.

A present for rewarding these young artists? A box of sidewalk crayons would be lovely.

. . .

I am linked with "Friday Writings #178" at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1

Go there to find other's writings.

. . .

Nightmare for all

Prereading Note: I appreciate very much your reading my write, thank you very much. And if you do thanks again. If you are using Blogger or other simple, not required to sign in, I will return your comment. I have to use my cellphone and that's all it knows. Sorry.

. . . .

Nightmare for all

My school desk sitting

Listening, my classmates

Reciting learnings

Quoting sonnets learned

Yesterday 'twas me

Standing, stove beside

Bleating out my heart

Teacher had to like

Today was different

Girls having their turn

They'd memorized well

Shakespeare wasn't liked

Boys're snickering

Teacher couldn't quiet

. . .

Poem request #224 Quadrille by Kim, must be 44 word and use the word "quiet"

I am linked to Kim at dVerse,

my poem is posted at https://dversepoets.com/2025/05/19/quadrille-224-walk-quietly-in-my-dreams/

My poem is posted at

https://www.blenza.com/linkies/links.php?owner=dversepoets&postid=12May2025&meme=12540

.

You can click that link and read all of us answering the call to write our Quadrilles and have posted them there with Brenna.

Comfort Food

Comfort Food for Me:

A list poem of sorts

It's apple pie and vanilla ice cream

calms me down for all day

Before that my breakfast, apple fritter

with cuppa black coffee

There will not be those pastry wheels for me

fattening, off for years

About ten o'clock there's granola bars

bars and more black coffee

Two in a pack and that's enough for me

Now my coffee's Half Calf

At noon it's a hot dog, cheese and mustard

With Diet Coke and ice

Potato chips of course, onion dip

Share my coke with my wife

Youth on the farm and in the corn fields

Ladies brought lunch at four

Before the dark bring in the grazing cows

Cake and decaf coffee

Not on the farm now still habbits remain

Red apple will tide me

Seven strikes on the clock bides wash to eat

Hoping for some roast beef

Meatloaf and mashed potatoes fills the bill

Used Mother's recipe

Green string beans and red beets. Suggered ice tea

Leftover apple pie

Ten o'clock and bed bed time snack, watch the news

Ice cream, not apple pie

. . .

I am linked with Rommy at Friday Writings #177, https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1

Go there for links to other writers work poem for this week. Rommy has given us an optional theme for which we might, it is "Comfort Food". I chose to write to it.

. . .

Another Time that Won't Slide By

A Day to Remember

Day I don't forget

It was my wedding day

Started the joyful day

She was at the church dressed

Relax, she was trying

Her groom hadn't arrived

At the groom's house ready

Sent his son, load for car

But son came running back

"Dad, can't get in the car!"

"Oh let me do that then

Oops these keys are not right

They're on the other ring

The ring for the small car"

"Grandpa took it ahead"

We called Grandpa to come

Meanwhile bride was nervous

Some guests already there

Worse yet Grandpa got lost

In half hour he came

Grabbed keys, headed for church

Son then came with Granpa

Making sure lost no more

Surprise when I made church

My bride was crying hard

Guests out for a burger

Grandpa came all were back

Bride was trying to smile

The rest went well, wedded

Haven't made my wife cry

In our fifty-one years

Never will I forget

. . .

Slice of Life to Remember

A Slice of Life;

not forgotten

School day to remember

I remember it well

Into the storm celler

She led me down the steps

Little girl little boy

Innocent boy enticed

Stopped there on the steps

There she popped a question

A question new to me

You show me yours and then

Then I will show you mine

Quickly she pulled our pants

She knew what to look for

Looked up and down, around

I, disappointed blushed

She'd naught for me to see

. . .

(Note: This is a true event, we were

at school having a first grade recess. )

. . .

- I am linked with Magaly at Friday Writings # 176 at (below)

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1 .

- You can find links to other's writings for readings and comments there. We had an optional writing thought of "A slice of life" from which I wrote.

. . .

A Day of Dark for Sure?

A Day of Dark

'Twas a dreary and dark day

Day this hero confessed

But the day is indiscreet

Indiscreet for when it comes

There, a matter that can be

Dark and dismal dreary day

Day of ends there'll be no more

Find the jar do the routine

One little pinky to start

Reach it in the the jar did find

Pull a pill, doesn't matter

Pick my prayer day of last

Toss it down throat be ready

'Nother pinky make the plung

These pretty rounds aren't candy

Takes fingers no more than ten

My dreary day will be done

Dark to stay light be no more

--

- I was reading and happened on to an article about writing dark poetry. That encouraged me to try again. I think I may have done it, a fair attempt here.

- I am linked with Magaly for Friday Writings 157 at

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/.../frida...

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Toast with cheese and hot chocolate -- a Poem for Friday Writings #136

Magaly has invited us to write poetry or prose inspired by Grace Lee Boggs’s (read URL link below) quote, “We can begin by doing small things…” Lots of possibilities here?

Twelve little pieces

that there should be but,

Eleven this time

They have a purpose?

slathered with creme cheese

Yummy by itself

But there's more to come

Jar, strawberry jam

Hot chocolate to drink

Fork does the dabbing

dabbing and dipping

smearing white with red

Yummier now still

Small things together

Dainty breakfast comes

Yes, “We can begin

by doing small things…”

. .

- I am Linked with Magaly at Friday Writings #136, https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/

..

Labels: Friday Writings, Jim Does, Poem, Recipe Poem

Nasty COVID -- a Poem for Friday Writings

Ducks don't get COVID -- or do they??
(Muscovy duck likes our yard)

Blogging friend many years

back before husband died

Now she has the COVID

I hope it leaves sound

COVID is bad. Troubles

could leave her with some ails

I'll tell you of mine, mean

I've lost my sense of smell,

sense of taste, and runnies

There's wet stuff from my mouth

and from my nose and lungs

A perpetual cough plagues me

Then too I forget names

names of folks and places

Stuck with poor memory

forgetful many things

where we've been, what we did

how we do it, with who

So "R Mary," hoping

Hoping better than mine

_ _ _

- I am linked with Magaly and Rosemary for my Friday Writings #135 poem, here

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2024/07/friday-writings-135-less-is-more.html

..

Help came -- my poem for Friday Writings

Rommy, in honor of a very helpful family member in honor of his Herculean efforts, is using "It's a dirty job but someone has to do it" as this week's optional prompt. I am trying to answer her challenge. So follows:

The Sore

I have a bad sore

'ts'on on my upper leg

Doc said irrigate

smother with this salve

So I went to work

tried to dab it on

Hit and miss up, down

here there, miss my nose

Meanwhile sore has grown

hoeing tender place

Dabs here and dabs there

those dabs ever hurt

Neice feeling for me,

"uncle might I help?"

" I see where to dab"

much better I felt

Smiling Neice popped up

no bit embarrased,

"It's a dirty job but

someone has to do it"

_ _ _

- I am linked with Rommy at the Friday Writings #134

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1

Flies - a Poem for Friday Writing

. “Do what we can, summer will have its flies” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Do those words you to tell your story? Magaly thinks and hope's they will today. Let's write and we'll see.

Flies in My Pie

Pick up your spoon

and play your tune

Flies in your pie

don't take a bite

'Cause if you do

they're bad for you

Insects' nasty

born from nasty

Like horses dead

Eggs in their head

_ _ _

- I am linked with Magaly at Friday Writings #133 at

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/

for her Ralph Waldo Emerson prompt line, as posted from above at the beginning of this blog

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Labels: Animals, Friday Writings, June Bugs

Eating again -- a poem for Friday Writings #132

I came

I came I saw, and I ate

Three steps to a clean plate

Trouble is, it's never that simple

Always a bugger lurking

Not that hungry for food like that

I'm on a diet and this doesn't fit

I suppress a vomit with every bite

I just plain don't like that food

Always a plausible reason for yea or nay

As a tempting the food may look

It doesn't taste that good

Then for some it's "an elegant sufficiency" *

Especially the fancy good tasting stuff

Always we both, each kind, gobble calories

_ _ _

*Note: - I am linked with Rosemary at Friday Writings #132 for her prompting phrase, "an elegant sufficiency"

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2024/06/friday-writings-132-elegant-sufficiency.html

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Ode to Mosquito -- a Poem for Friday Writings #131 and for my modification for dVerse

Free for use under the Pixabay Content License

Oh Poor Mosquito

*Oh poor mosquito bane of man

We adore some of your courage

Take chances of death or crippling

Synthetic chemicals inhaled

*You were swatted in innocence

*you minding your regular ways

Habits you learned at baby nest

Fast learner, learned from seeds left there

*Mother Nature in your being

*will to stay alive. Embedded

In those seeds keys to survival

*Earnestly bite and propagate

_ _ _

- I am linked with Rosemary at Friday Writings #131 at

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/

and I have renewed this poem from the graveyard of unused drafts not yet discarded (read below)

- I was first linked with Laura at dVerse prompt at

https://dversepoets.com/2024/06/13/mtb-elaborating-lacunae-in-the-fragment-or-keeping-things-whole/

where we are to improve a fragment with problems or is unfinished.

I chose one which I had not finished. Meant to be a short ode I tried to keep the theme. Lines Italicized and starting with an asterisk are original. If something is underlined, I have added to the old line.

- Click here to read others' writings for Laura's desire.

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Figment gone wild -- for dVerse Quadrille #203

Can't Win All

Tell you little figment bout

my imagination wild

Was a little boy again

getting the cows to come in

Birdie, workhorse disliked me

concerned for the cows' freedom

Walked over and kicked me good

in the back I was bedridden

I limp still today

_ _ _

- I am linked with Lillian hosting at dVerse Quadrille #203, (must be exactly 44 word poem) and this one contain the word "figment"

https://dversepoets.com/2024/06/10/what-do-mark-twain-and-a-purple-dragon-have-in-common/

- Click here to read the others posting for this week's Quadrilles

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Labels: Children, Dream, dVerse prompt, Quadrille

Photo from a book store - and a Poem for Friday Writings

You can count the keys on this LARGE PRINT typewriter pictured.
Please also note that it is a manual and not electric.
"Typewriter" posts, http://jimmiehov.blogspot.com/search?q=typewriter

Words we speak

"If I had my choice, I probably would've

gotten married in my twenties,

had three kids, and never left my hometown.

Sometimes life doesn't work out the way

we wish it would."

Words were spoken like I've heard before

'I won't ever marry a man, and when I have

children I'll teach them to not marry either.'

Thus sayeth a senior girl in my typing class

(I and one other were the only boys enrolled)

which shocked a farm boy like me.

Later I read in the paper when the girl above

had married that summer a fellow who drove

a batch truck for the paving gang making the

new highway to a neighboring town.

Later still, I read of the birth that fall of a baby

boy to the couple.

The author of the book from which I quoted,

then married, did have a child, at the age

of forty-two.

Things don't often, seldom, work out like

our plans.

I didn't plan things, never did. Instead when

there is an open door of opportunity I evaluate

choices and most often have taken the good ones.

I ended up not rich but have retired well enough

off to have retired many years now. All my

degrees aren't helping me now but they did produce

quite well.

Moral of the story from my book, the author

was telling, "God has a plan for us" and it may

differ greatly from our own.

_ _ _

Notes:

1. The book I'm reading is “Mostly What God Does”

written by Savannah Guthrie. The words I have used here

are to be found in Chapter 4, titled “Like a Mother”.

2. My “Prose Poem” has 290 words not counting the title

but counting the author's quotation from the book.

_ _ _

- I am linked with Magaly at Friday Writings #130 at

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/

..

Labels: Friday Writings, Prose, prose poem

JIM'S LITTLE PHOTO AND POEM PLACE

Thursday, July 31, 2025

Hurts

Thursday, July 24, 2025

Love Poem Ode ❤

Wednesday, July 23, 2025

In Uncertain Times

Thursday, July 17, 2025

Rules of Life

Wednesday, July 16, 2025

Man of the Streets

Friday, July 11, 2025

Resting

Thursday, July 10, 2025

New Start

Thursday, July 03, 2025

Puzzle Limerick

Sunday, June 29, 2025

Politics

Thursday, June 26, 2025

A Perfect Afternoon

Thursday, June 19, 2025

Anger

Thursday, June 12, 2025

My Claim

Thursday, June 05, 2025

Thursday, May 29, 2025

Down in the Valley

Thursday, May 22, 2025

Art pieces to appreciate

Tuesday, May 20, 2025

Nightmare for all

Thursday, May 15, 2025

Comfort Food

Thursday, May 08, 2025

Another Time that Won't Slide By

Monday, May 05, 2025

Slice of Life to Remember

Friday, December 13, 2024

A Day of Dark for Sure?

Thursday, July 18, 2024

Toast with cheese and hot chocolate -- a Poem for Friday Writings #136

Friday, July 12, 2024

Nasty COVID -- a Poem for Friday Writings

Saturday, July 06, 2024

Help came -- my poem for Friday Writings

Thursday, June 27, 2024

Flies - a Poem for Friday Writing

Saturday, June 22, 2024

Eating again -- a poem for Friday Writings #132

Thursday, June 13, 2024

Ode to Mosquito -- a Poem for Friday Writings #131 and for my modification for dVerse

Monday, June 10, 2024

Figment gone wild -- for dVerse Quadrille #203

Friday, June 07, 2024

Photo from a book store - and a Poem for Friday Writings

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