Rabbit and the Fowls - - a Poem for Friday Writings and a Piece of Prosery for dVerse

 Missing friends

Little rabbit was 

 getting lonesome 

He'd sit by the fence 

 missing his buddies 

“Something told the wild geese 

 It was time to fly.”

Then they all left  

  alone again 

Didn't last him long

 ducks coming in

Quickly making friends 

 Rabbit's alone no more 

 

_ _ _ _ 

 - Photos and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2024, All Rights Reserved  

 - I am linked with Rosemary at dVerse Friday Writings #126 at 

    https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/ 

   Rosemary has asked as an optional assignment for us to write a poem or story (or a few) in only 160 characters including title and spaces. (If you choose to write more than one, please put them all in one post and make sure that collectively they don't exceed our 369 word limit.)  

   I chose not to do that and wrote instead what you see next here.    

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 - I am also linked with Kim881 at Prosery, dVerse,  her prompt line is above in quotations and posted at 

https://dversepoets.com/2024/05/06/prosery-something-told-the-wild-geese/ 

 

 - Click here for others writing Prosery Flash Writing this week.  I wrote only 44 Words, we could have 144

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April -- NaPoWriMo 2024 Day 2

 Mother's love 

A mother loves her son 

With depth unknown by dads 

She's standing behind him 

Hiding in her apron 

When dad begins to growl 

There is nothing like it  

Except tens of millions 

Of world's other mothers 

He sits by her when small 

There forever till death 

And when she dies, you'll say 

"I've always had a mom 

But now she's gone and I 

haven't a mom anymore" 

_ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2024, All Rights Reserved 

 - I'm linked with NaPoWriMo 2024 Day 2 (URL)

Situation Intolerable - a Poem for dverse Poetics

René Magritte, Homesickness (1940), oil on canvas

  

        What I see in the photo 

Home seems different, seems so very warm 

Back to where I left off this very bridge 

Had no wings back then plunged into the cold 

Team with wings dressed in white that pulled me out 

I was issued suit like that, white with wings 

Notices on my back saying, "stay pending" 

Pending interview with the famous saint 

Backlog was ahead of me but I could wait 

I had persisted going back, visit 

Visit with kin left behind and explain 

Tell of my ills, worries, evil thoughts why 

I could bear no more had to make the jump 

Now thinking why and what, why I would leave 

Leave a mess behind that I couldn't cope 

So I was released, on leave of absence 

Gave me the lion to ride him back home 

Didn't tell me before but when we left 

Out the golden door my suit turned to black 

Wings I'd never used they said take with me 

But don't to use those wings as they're evil now  

And we came but the kin understood not 

Why I'd leave like that, messes left for them 

Here we stand on that bridge ready to leave 

Wanting to test these wings, I'd like to fly 

Lion senses bad, he needs to mount up 

With one giant leap and we could be gone 

 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2024, All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with Melissa Lemay at dVerse Poetics, 

    https://dversepoets.com/2024/03/19/everything-we-see/ 

 - Click here to read what others have written, go to the link just above to read about the artist, René Magritte, and to read our instructions from Melissa, our host tonight 

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Prequel to "Jack and Jill" -- A Prequel Poem Written for Friday Writings and for dVerse Poetics

Photo of one of the results of a Bing Search, URL 
[click on picture for larger size view]

 

    Jack and Jill in Training 

Jack and Jill made a training bill 

Climb some hills and gain some new skills 

Run two miles before the wind whiles 

Early up ahead of the sun 

Easy start longer hills a part 

Jack and Jill loved climbing the hills 

Then one day learned enough make hay 

Small mountain they could climb, certain 

Jack and Jill they climbed that big hill 

Jack fell down and Jill broke her crown 

_ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2024 

 - I am linked with Rosemary for Friday Writing #111 at 

    https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/

 - I am also linked before with Lillian of dVerse Poetics at 

    https://dversepoets.com/2024/01/23/and-what-were-you-like-before/

 - Rosemary has asked, "If you were to come back as a ghost after you die, what place or person would you most like to haunt – er, revisit?" 

 - Lillian has asked us to "write a poem that is a prequel to a particular character from a nursery rhyme, aesop’s fable, book, or mythology. See explanation in prompt above. Be sure it’s clear in the poem, who you’re writing about."  For Friday Writings using the prompt is optional, we can instead post a poem previously written or written one off prompt.  I had previously written this poem for Lillian above.   

   You can see that I used a prequel to Jack and Jill of the nursery poem with that name, "Jack and Jill", who climbed the hill but then they fell back down after they had gotten up their hill. The Prequel is usually telling of some events prior, even leading up, to the main story writing, i.e. the Nursery Rhyme here.  

 - Click here to read other folks writing on this prompt. 

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Lucky Guy -- a Poem for dVerse Poetics

Look under the bridge

Can see Sydney's underpants

Not unlike Paris 

 _ _ _  

As I went under the bridge 

My mind began to wander 

Away from the tourist sights 

Remembering childhood day  

Bridges where I used to play 

Down at  the creek on our farm 

Over on the graveled road 

Under that bridge where I played 

Followed creek through the fence 

Duke and I sat on the bank 

Throwing rocks into the stream 

Duke was taking a short nap 

Sleeping dog reminded me 

I's thinking how it would be 

To be homeless here except 

My bed, blanket and a dog 

I'm the lucky veteran 

There's so many have no home 

_ _ _ 

 - Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2018 (URL) and 2023 respectively, All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with Punam for the dVerse prompt, Bridge, in our write for "Poetics: Building Bridges" at 

    https://dversepoets.com/2023/09/26/poetics-building-bridges/ 

 - Click here to read others' writings for the prompt 

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April -- NaPoWriMo 2023 Day 22 -- Doctor's Advice -- and a Poem for Sunday Muse

“Pointlessness” by Fine Art Photographyer Lara Zankoul 

Her Mistake 

She doesn't understand her doctor's cure 

She takes his advice literally 

He's told her the fix for her jitters 

That would be for her to get her broom 

She's to take her broom and bucket 

Go to the edge of the sea 

Sweep the sand, dump it into the sea 

When she has finished find another 

She took his advice literally 

Didn't understand his metaphors  

_ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2023, All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with Carrie for the Photo from her selections for the Sunday  Muse #256 at 

 https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2023/04/sunday-muse-256.html?m=1 

 - I am also linked with NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month, Day 22 , 

    https://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-two-9/ 

 - My entry time was around 8:07 Central Standard Time if you'd care to see my entry posted.  The picture is not there.

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Card Queen - a Little Poem for Sunday Muse

 

     My Queen

I looked into the deck for relief 

The Queen of Hearts quickly came to me 

Turns out she'd been appointed to me 

To me as my loving guard angel 

As if there really is such being 

Not superstitious.  I don't believe 

What I get I've earned, angel's lacking 

But I'll keep my Queen, all mine all mine 

I'll keep her in my pretty green box 

In that box I've kept my treasures loved 

My firsts, baby spoons to wedding rings

 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022, All Rights Reserved 

 - Photos from Carrie at the Sunday Muse #232, 

  https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/10/sunday-muse-232.html?m=1 

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The Dream -- NaPoWriMo 2023 Day 25

 Nightmare Lady Beloved

I had this dream last night 

It's a recurring dream 

Always of you my dear 

You come to wreck my head 

Last night you wanted be 

You'd be Queen for a day 

That's it the way it starts 

You'd be boss over me 

I don't like being bossed 

But with you that's okay 

You've a cause to defend 

Worthy of fighting for 

Leaders Nazi type are

Taking your country down

Terrible sounding news 

Trouble she had pronounced 

What to do, what to do 

Quandried head she had made 

We took it by the horns 

Swords and sabres unsleaved  

Grabbed her by her skirt tail 

Flew to the town center 

Uprising taking place 

We swished and swashed heads rolled 

What a mess there was strewn 

Bodies scattered around 

One soldier lived we'd take 

Take him to jail prisoner 

Lifted up fighting still 

Holding out wouldn't go 

With his last gasping breath 

Stabbed us both to our death 

She put on her crown, Queened 

We flew away where safe 

Wait for another night 

Wait for another dream 

 _ _ _ 

 - Photo (read note below) and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022 

 - I am linked with NaPoWriMo Day 25 for the prompt,  https://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-five-8/ 

 - The prompt was to write an aisling poem, see the above link

 - I made my own screenshot of the Aisling figure, I found her here, 

https://heroes-and-villain.fandom.com/wiki/Aisling 

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Sunday Muse - Back When

 

Way Back Then 

Grandpa was one of the richest 

Richest in our corn county Burt 

Grandpa owned three farms, fertile land 

Share cropped to his sons, half and half 

There in his big house I was born  

Doctor "L" paid with potatoes 

We were poor, so very poor but . . . 

An extra good potato crop 

That is why to this very day 

Potatoes are my favorite veg 

 - - - 

Actually, this was the house where I was born:

Probably around the turn of the 20th century it was brand new. It had two bedrooms upstairs, a living room, and a country kitchen. Later were added two enclosed but not heated porches.

The porch on the right is where I had to sleep when my sister was old enough to have her own room. Cold mornings would find frost on my blankets where my breath would freeze. You can see it is fallen in now, first entered by the raccoons, then finished off by the tree.

There were storm windows for the winter. My porch sleeping room was not heated and we did not have air conditioning.

Update:  The new owners bulldozed down the house and then burned the rubble. Corn is now growing over the farmstead except for some trees saved and around where four buildings remain.

Read more about the old Nebraska place where I grew up.

 - - - 

 - Bottom Photo and Poem Copywrite, Jimmiehov 2007 and 2021, All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with The Sunday Muse # 179 where Carrie offered us this Top Pictured old house as inspiration for us to write our piece at http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2021/09/the-sunday-muse-179.html?m=1  

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Weekly Scribblings - at the top

    The Top

 

The couple decided to take the old 

The old Ferris wheel relegated far 

Far out at the edge of the county fair 

Not a crowd out there perfect for cuddling 

Hope on hope, ride would break with them on top. 

They'd have some time for each other.  A kiss? 

Stop it did, while loving mischief they did 

The ride operator tried, make it go 

Finally help came, two able mechanics 

They tinkered with the old Allis Chalmers 

Try as they may the 1923 

engine would not start.  Not even a belch 

With a hand crank Ferris began to move 

Every other seat they would let folks out  

Cranking some more  they let "youth" pass on by 

Wouldn't you know, the couple enjoyed more 

...

A modern Ferris wheel was at our county fair Texas rodeo, the County Fair at Brenham, Texas, on September 17, 2010 .  It was the first one we had seen in a long time, this time we went on request.  We had a guest from France, friend of our son, who had wanted to see a bull riding contest.  She was not disappointed. 

https://jimmiehov.blogspot.com/2010/10/rodeo-2010-02.html?m=0 

We have ridden on this old 1923 Ferris wheel, it belonged to a fellow in our car club.  And yes, one time it stopped working while we were on top.  It took quite a while to get us off, I'm not real sure how we passed our time up there. 

 https://jimmiehov.blogspot.com/2012/09/two-shoes-tuesday-2-danger-midweek-blues.html?m=0 

  _ _ _  

 - Poem and Photos Copyright,  Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with Rommy at The Weekly Scribblings #87,   , https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2021/09/weekly-scribblings-87-lets-go-to-fair.html?m=1 

 - Rommy would like us to write about one (or more) things we might find at a fair. Possibilities include (but are not limited to) cotton candy, Ferris wheels, ring toss, merry-go-rounds, corn dogs, and roller coasters.

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Sunday Muse Poem -- Kids at Play

Photography by Romain Thiery 

(Abandoned in an old forgotten villa in France) 

Kids' Play House

An abandoned house across the road 

It was up a ways the kids would go 

A day of play, afternoon at least 

Old, very old, elegant for feast 

They'd packed a lunch share at the table 

Bigger kids' eats, best they were able 

Folks here must have left in a hurry 

Beds tables chairs for mice to scurry 

Kids stood in line to play the Old Maid

That's what they called the musical spade

Ace of Maids the machine left behind 

Keys were sticking, but best they could find 

No sounds this old piano would make 

But music from this crew they would fake 

Carefully when they left they locked the place  

New key for the old lock they had made 

Explore some more this small urchin clan 

Come again another day their plan 

 _ _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights reserved 

 - Photo by Romain Thiery and copied from Carrie's directions linked below

 - I am linked with Carrie Van Horne at the Sunday Muse #150, http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2021/03/sunday-muse-150.html?m=1

Weekly Scribblings Poem ~~ Grandpa my Model

My Grandpa H 

Grandpa was my favorite 

He said I was his as well 

He wore a hat and a scarf 

High top work shoes Overalls 

Grandma was favorite too 

She was mild very refined 

She was a school teacher ex 

Retired got along with kids 

Grandpa was the man to be 

When I grew up I wanted 

Wanted to be just like him 

Always had something going 

He was rough around the edge 

Cussed used words I couldn't say 

Never the Lord's name in vain 

Not vulgar still not for me 

We'd go for rides in his truck 

His stud horse was in the back 

Grandpa's horses were good stock 

For his cars he liked Buicks  

There were nine of us cousins 

We were first at the table 

Grandpa said woodbox* for us 

We wondered was he teasing? 

Celebrated fifty years 

Grandpa wanted cocktails 

Grandma said there would be none 

Grandpa's bar down in the barn 

And when we grew up 

I laid claim to be 

Most like my Grandpa 

*Woodbox, a wooden box holding firewood for the kitchen cook stove

 _ _ _ 

 - Poem and Photo Copyright,  Jimmiehov 2021 and 2016 ( https://jimmiehov.blogspot.com/2016/09/fridays-hunt-v210-j-is-for.html?m=1) , All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with Rosemary for writing her prompt, see below,  at Weekly Scribblings  #55 , https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2021/01/weekly-scribblings-55-what-you-resist.html

 - Rosemary invited us "to write about turning into one of (our) parents – or about resisting that possibility."

Weekly Scribbling Poem ~~ Taking a Look Back

. 

If I only . . . 

If I would have turned back for a picture 

I've said that how many times I don't know 

But today a change took my life in tow 

I'm so glad I did, found so many things 

So many precious  things I would have missed  

A tree, four more, emerging from my past 

http://jimmiehov.blogspot.com/2006/06/friends-again-and-couple-of-nice-gift.html

[cypress trees on the left, there wee more] 

.Cypress trees, our hotel, St. Remy, France. 

Tall, gorgeous trees, under which we played boule 

The Misses and me, I would always rule  

There in Provence,  the old town of Van Gogh 

Town where he left an ear, was committed  

His loved olive trees loved by Jesus Christ 

We stayed there a week, toured Provence real close 

We left no lingering mark though it marked us  

https://jimmiehov.blogspot.com/2006/04/biscuit-biscuit-while-staying-at.html?m=1 

 _ _ _ 

 - Photos and Poem Copyright,  Jimmiehov 2021, 2006, and 2021, All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with Magaly Guerrero for writing prompt (see below) and sharing for Weekly Scribblings # 54,    https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2021/01/weekly-scribblings-54-hindsight-is.html?m=1

 - Magaly, prompting, would like us to create new poetry or prose inspired by the phrase, “If I knew then what I know now”. We can include the actual words in our contribution, but it’s not a requirement. 

Sunday Muse Poem -- Don't Ask

Image Source 

Gathered Here 

We are gathered here waiting 

Waiting our ship to come in 

Board by numbers given us 

Sevens or twos some families 

When our ship comes, mask and board 

I have been chosen, our King 

King Elected, Tiger king 

Lion king not selected 

Where we'll sail, that we don't know 

Trust in Provence we are told 

Or be like doubting Lion 

And left behind, do not sail  

Drink up drink up while we can 

Our next meal is on the ship 

 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 

 - Photo prompt, I'm linked with Carrie Van Horn at Sunday Muse # 144, http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2021/01/sunday-muse-144.html?m=1#comment-form

a Poem for Sunday Muse -- I Don't Wish This on You

 

The Poor Loser 

Better to butt one's head against the wall 

than having a tizzy 'bout a bad call 

After the tizzy you'll be a "Loser" 

and carry that name of defeat for life 

Butting one's head will leave a big headache 

but that is why aspirin and Tylenol 

every day are sold.  Having your hissy 

often leads to the hoosegow or much worse 

Either way your friends will be laughing and 

having a jolly time at your expense 

You'll never live down your mistake or your 

telling name, "Loser, Loser--did it wrong" 

So why don't you take it like a big "boy" 

and cry up your sleeve when you are alone 

 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved 

 - For the prompt photo I am linking with Fireblossom at the Sunday Muse #134 at http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2020/11/sunday-muse-134.html?m=1  

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