Deserts Today
Im getting old now
92's caught me
But that doesn't hurt
Deserts still the best
I've found a new friend
Strawberry ice cream
Never liked before
Now she's my sweetheart
. . .
Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2026 All Rights Reserved
Feel free to look around in this blog. What you see is what you get. What you saw yesterday may not be here today. All logos, trademarks and content in this site are property of their respective owners. Posts and comments are the property of their posters. However I reserve the right to remove any and all of said items. All else, poems and other writing and photographs taken by Jim are © Copyright 2005-2023 by jimmiehov ( jhovendic@yahoo.com ).
Im getting old now
92's caught me
But that doesn't hurt
Deserts still the best
I've found a new friend
Strawberry ice cream
Never liked before
Now she's my sweetheart
. . .
Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2026 All Rights Reserved
My writing prompt today asks the question,Please tell us, how would YOU answer ‘this most dark and demoralised question: “This world has no meaning. Why would we bother?"
Mother's Car
Mother's car sat in my garage
Had sat there for ten useless years
Before she died you could see her
She and the pretty Ford Mustang
They were all around her small town
Running errands or bringing food
Going to church, you could name it
I had bought it for her, stick shift
Four on the floor as she had wanted
Wanted to know gear it was in
After she died her car was idle
Sat up until we hauled it away
Strange thing a young lady to rescue
Off the tow truck I gave it to her
She liked it like a lover's sweetheart
Father was a Mustang mechanic
Now it runs all around doing good
Running errands like Mother had been
. . .
Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2026 All Rights Reserved I am linked with and written in response to Rommy,s prompting post
Yesterday came and went
Today is here and going
Tomorrow we're waiting for
. . .
. Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2026 All Rights Reserved I am linked with and written in response to Mary,s prompting post. (Sorry but my machine is broken, it refuses to print the line distribution intended) . . .
Legacy . Legacy's on my mind. I like your antique car Like it so very much When you can't drive no more Then I'd like you give it me I'll take good care on bumpy roads So would you will it to me He got it when old Mr. Ericson died Him like I would take good care . . Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2026 All Rights Reserved I am linked with and written in response to Rommy,s prompting post. (Sorry but my machine is broken, it refuses to print the line distribution intended) . . .
April Showers, they've come my way It's raining all over the place And seeping into my Kitchen The stove is wet, the bed's dripping Ants and worms doing their swimming Puddles for us to step and drink It must stop soon we have no ark . . . Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2026 All Rights Reserved I am linked with and written in response to Rommy,s prompting post. (Sorry but my machine is broken, it refuses to print the line distribution intended) . . .
Untruth and honesty Are we a generation from truth and untruth Do we have our mother's advice tucked in And did she teach us that lying is bad Bad morally, bad for our reputation Bad for us and bad for the recipient Do we make sure our mother is reliable Then don't pass lying to the kids and others Have and keep our honesty reputation And keep it with all we deal with . . . Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2026 All Rights Reserved I am linked with and written in response to Susan's prompting post. (Sorry but my machine is broken, it refuses to print the line distribution intended)
“The soul is healed by being with children.”—Fyodor Dostoevsky The Easter Bunny is for children Now the little guy is tittled "him" why do we make Him a boy, hopping male We've made Him a rabbit too The children love him, he brings them candies puts it in a pretty basket one thev"e made for him We can help the rabbit The children must go to bed To bed before he'll come parents stay up to help Come early morning children, Children rush to see Has he come, peek around, Yes, he's come and gone Chocolate eggs galore Those eggs for them to eat! That's how it works Adults must "believe." . . Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2026 All Rights Reserved I am linked with and written in response of Summa Roy's prompt Also linking with Rosemary's The prompt for Poets and Storytellers United is something you feel deeply about. I've always pulled for the children and the Easter Bunny. . . . .
Anger
Where I'm at I've heard
not one angry word
In our new quarters
last December here
Senior Living called
Lots of walking aid
We're in same boat
Learned Yoga meaning
Meals are cooked us
The food is really good
Those two major needs
Extra games for fun
Why should we anger
. . .
Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2026 All Rights Reserved
I am linked with and written in response of Mary's"s prompt
. . .
this week's optional prompt, would like to me to take inspiration from the idea of "looking back".
I am old, Remembering
Remember "Singing do and doe's"
Doing this, doing that - - -
So I was "lookin back"
Looking back to see
See if you were lookin back
Looking back at me
Ha ha
. . .
Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2026 All Rights Reserved, photo Courtesy of free "Unsplash:
I am linked with and written in response of Rommy"s prompt
. . .
The world, a fictional journey
I feel the world is burning but
But still I feel I might survive
Though my teeth are hiding inside
Inside gums not showing their place
Deep inside dentist can not pull
Reddened skin sore she cannot soothe
Those hidden sore teeth turning red
Tried eating bleeding on my food
Not to waste precious blood and food
Crying doesn't help makes things worse
I feel the world is burning, why
Why do I try when there's no way
. . .
Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2026 All Rights Reserved
I am linked with and written in response to Magaly Guerrero's prompting post
Ten years, seem short
Ten years hardly make a bean
Ours comes with time retired
Been retired now twenty-six
Spouse's hair little whiter
There's more and more on her blouse
and less and less on her scalp
Now I walk with a walker
That walker, our waiter hides
Hides from folk when we're eating
Keeps walkers-by from tripping
And all we're so happy now
"Senior living," cooks for us
Still have to make our own bed
. . .
Note: Asked by Sherry for a bit about our last ten years passing. Mrs Jim and I have moved, to a Senior Living facility since Mid-December. We are in our 80's and 90s, we've kept our car, in it's late 30's and I still drive. We like our apartment here.
. .
Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2026 All Rights Reserved
I am linked with and written in response of Sherry Blue Sky"s prompt
. . .
Hi
What we're asked to say we'd tell:
Optional prompt this week: Please (a) write for us your personal message to the rest of humanity, the thing you most need to communicate, on the assumption that all humanity will get to read it and take note:
. . .
You'all
You'all behave, I'm tired
Tired of all of you, you'all
You all think nobody cares
cares what you say or do
Well that's all wrong by MOST EVERY ant
WE all want YOU ALL to behave
BEHAVE LIKE YOUR MOTHER SHOULD HAVE TAUGHT YOU..
. . .
. . .
Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2026 All Rights Reserved
Photo courtesy O'Deposit Photos
I am linked with and written in response of Rosemary's prompt
I was glad
I was glad for the day
Day for women to say their piece
Glad for a woman to play with me
One who romped in the grass
We swam, played and romped together
We remembered the day for its worth
One of thirty we choose to honor women
Women around the world more happy
Happy on their special day of special month
. . .
Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2026 All Rights Reserved
I am linked with and written in response of Susan"s prompt
. . .
What does this have to do with this week's theme of writing about dancing (a specific style or dancing in general)? OK, sure... it's ice skating, not dancing. But both are joy-filled examples of movement. And we could all do with a bit more joy, right? Just go with it.
My two feet,
A synopsis
I love these feet of mine
Have high hopes, love them always
When young and gay met a mate
Met her at the skating rink
A bit younger than I was
We lied about our ages
Eloped to another state
Marriage lasted thirteen years
Then she met another guy
Bozo couldn't even dance
But his smile was becoming
Married, lasted not a year
New lady for me arrived
three years later, she could skate
We celebrated last week
Fifty-three years of romance
. . .
Photo Copyright ©️ 2026 "jimmiehov"
I am linked with "Friday Writings" 211 at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1
. . .
My first car was unspoken
A solid wheel vehicle
One that Dady bought for me
Trade in by my principal
A 1950 it was
Studebaker Starlight Coupe
Back then only bicycles
Their wheels had spokes and more spokes
Well, tricycles still had spokes
But the cars then were safer
Doing away with the spokes
Unspoken they had become
Now again spokes have returned
But they are so much stronger
Engineered from solid steel
My Mustang is much safer
Much safer than solid steel
Goodbye to unspoken wheels.
. . .
Photos and Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2026 All Rights Reserved
I am linked with and Written in response of Mary's"s prompt, at
https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/?m=1
This evening Sherry Blue Sky has enticed us to find blessings from the things in the sky.
When you're asleep I will play
Have double fun when it snows
Making circles that erase
My Mustang Ford likes to play
The circles are black most times
Black with melted tire rubber
Circles at your intersect
Round and round our creation
Now when the new snow is fresh
It's first come first dig your treads
And with this snow all will like
Enjoy another circle
A grin resting on your chin
. . .
Poem and Photo Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2026, all rights reserved.
-Written in response of Susan"s prompt, at https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/?m=1
- I am also linked with dVerse #401 at https://dversepoets.com/
. . .
. . .
has become our shelter
Though I could have had two
Rich people don't live here
Plastic key locks our door
Carry it on our wrists
Whippet hound protects us
But he is mere décor
As are two small creatures
Sitting above the hound
So our protections not
Not even in our head .
It's called Senior Living
We are old
. . .
Poem and Photo Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2026, all rights reserved.
-Written in response of Mary's prompt, at https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/?m=1
I am also coming with Rommy at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1 but opting to not use her optional prompt. Note, if my write seems nonsensical it might be.
I awoke
Again I could sleep
No more in the middle of the night
So I sit on the edge of my bed
It happens at midnight
"Rodents" called Groundhogs are edgy
When daylight comes they'll pop out
Out of their nesting hole that they'd dug
When it's time for the sun
They'll look for their shadow
One privileged
GROUNDHOG DETERMINES
If it sees it's shadow it will scare
AND run back in and hide
Hide for six more weeks
Means no more spring weather
For six more weeks
. . .
Worrying about that, I can't sleep
. . .
. . .
Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2026, all rights reserved, picture was on line, Google search found at the edge of my bed
-
I'm Awake Now
I am awake now,
no more in my dreams
A cold day awaits
Sitting on the edge of my bed
Still dark
only the moon gives light
three minute discourse
You go first
no you go, no you go
I went in the middle of the night
okay I'll go, don't you puddle the floor
Oh Moon, o moon
Please send me another dream
Sitting the edge of my bed
A cold day awaits
. . .
Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2026, all rights reserved, picture was on line, found at the edge of my bed
-Written in response of Sherry's prompt, at https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/?m=1
I am also coming with Rosemary at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1 but opting to not use her optional prompt. Note, if my write seems nonsensical it might be.
was told this week, "we will invite you to write about the time of day you like best, and why."
. . .
Sunday Morning
Zombie tree found roadside out from Conroe, Texas. Natural decoration.
. . .
The Zombie tree that wouldn't give up
I passed it nary blink of my eye
Part of the scenery nature's pet
A nuisance pulling on the fence line
Rabbits safe raising their little ones
It's been fixed years and years standing tall
Farmers spreading poison in the ground
And spraying nasty stuff on its arms
I moved away no more Zombie thoughts
Years later the graying bows still stood
Seemed to smirk, saying haw haw to me
. . .
I am linked with Mary at https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/?m=1
- I am also linked with "Friday Writings #209" with Rosemary with a poem optional of her suggestion at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1
Mary asked, "This week, please write about letting go— It might be either a single dramatic act or it might be a series of small releases, a break finally made."
. . .
Note: This is my 3000th write on this blog, 2071 I posted, the rest remain as "drafts:
Beach in Hawaii
The last thing I'll remember
Our ride to the beaches edge
Sand flying from beaches edge
Our blanket thrown on the sand
Things quickly escalated
Sands now became forgotten
Those sands quickly forgotten
Blanket too not remembered
Song, touching me, touching you
"Sweet Caroline"* remembered
Proved they were right all the time
* Neil Diamond song,
. . .
Neil Diamond - Sweet Caroline
Lyrics
. . .
Poem and picture Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2025, all rights reserved, picture taken and cut from Elvis Presley movie, "Hawaii"
-Written in response of Sherry's prompt, "What was remembered" at https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/?m=1
- I am also linked with "Friday Writings #208" with Rosemary with a poem optional of her suggestion at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1
Twilight comes
Twilight is nearing
Snowmen, they would be
Safe another day
But the deer next door
They suffered great loss
Twilight was the shield
Naughty boys' snowballs
They used it's darkness
Threw the frozen first
Every light carried
Broken to pieces
Sadness sadness came
At winter's dim light
Mourning over there
Though snowmen soothed
Twilight not enough
Brought sadness to call
. . .
I am writing trying to satisfy Susan's "Settle yourself into a twilight--either before sunup or before sundown, turn on a light or light a candle, and write a new poem influenced by a winter or summer twilight. What's going on?"
Our Pet Therapy Pair
Adi and I were a nice pair
We were a Pet Therapy Pair
Alzheiimer's victims made happy
They made Adi happy as well
Telling her of their dogs behind
Where and what they were doing now
We'd hear their stories times again
I miss Adi now, died two twelve.
. . .
- Photo and Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2025, All Rights Reserved
- I am linked at "https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/?m=1" with Mary at "What's Going On" for her prompt, ". . . today’s topic asks you (to reflect) on "Alone"
- I am also linked with "Friday Writings #207" with Rosemary at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1
Resist
Resist, my elbow
Saying means not
My dear it doesn't
Says, "DOES NOT" boldly
Well, I told the coon,
"You've been bad, don't add,
Don't lick up your mess,
Spilled booze all over
But coons can't take it
Alcohol's not good
It goes to your brain
Did, now drunken coon
. . .
.
- Photo and Poem Copyright Jimmiehov 2025 All Rights Reserved
- I am linked with "Friday Writings" 206 at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1
- Also linked with dVerse for "Open night", https://dversepoets.com/2025/12/04/open-link-night-397-december-live/
. . .
Optional prompt for the "Friday Writings Week # 205" is " . . . we’ll invite you to write about “food as ritual.” "
Here goes
[click on picture for bigger size view]
New Years Day
New Years Day in the South means black eyed peas and cabbage. The peas are for wealth, the cabbage for health, during the next year and the future. And of course good Southern food is cushioned by made-from-scratch cornbread. The ham will be from Thanksgiving day leftovers.
We don't believe in influencing luck by what we eat, but it is a Southern tradition we have followed for the 52 years we have been married. She is a Louisiana lady still.
Southern people eat black-eyed peas, most Northerners don't. When General Sherman went through the South burning everything, including the food supply, he didn't mess with the black-eyed peas. He thought they were food for the cattle, and his troops had already killed or eaten the cattle.
So, the people who survived boiled those beans and ate them. It was like they were rich, they had a lot of food. Only thing, it was all in the granary formerly food for the cattle.
I have no idea why they eat the cabbage, I'm sure it too was at some time they were lucky in health and had been eating cabbage.
For supper that night we would share this frozen Runza. It may be the of last Runza's we brought back from Nebraska in early last December.
So Runza for Nebraskans and black eyed peas are because I married a Southern lady of course I like them too.
Note: Please remember that my "jim's little Christmas Tree Farm" blog is open now. It is featuring Christmas trees that I run across this season. Find them here,
https://jimmiehov7.blogspot.com/?m=1
Cranked up the Jalopy
I cranked up the old jalopy
She was aching for an outing
Plenty of times was left behind
Was Mexico or Canada
Why fly every time could have drove
Europe or Asia understood
The boys at the car grooming place
All liked this baby, jalopy
Smoothly they managed every gear
Polished her standing dusty rear
. . .
BTW, last night I posted my first Christmas Tree Farm tree for 2025. I will being posting the trees as I come across them. NYC's will be next, maybe on Thanksgiving Day.
https://jimmiehov7.blogspot.com/2025/11/o1-first-tree-for-2025-season.html?m=1
. . .
- Photo and Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2025, All Rights Reserved
- I am linked at "https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/?m=1" with Sumana Roy with "What's Going On" for her prompt, ". . . today’s topic asks you (to reflect) on what brings you joy and purpose. My car likes to make me happy.
I am also - I am linked with "Friday Writings" 204 at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1
. . .
Note: At the grooming place every groomer told me what a nice car she was. I felt good; my baby, jalopy was born in 1998, 27 years ago. I treat her nice and easy, no more green light drag race for her. She was my retirement present from myself.
. . .
"week's optional prompt, be prepared to write about three things you hate and tear them down, and/or three things you love and celebrate them." Since my write was fairly long and my time was short I just wrote of one -- LOVED THAT COW!!
. . .
Curious Betsy
I called her Betsy
A pretty cow came over
Over to check me out
First time, we met that day
Met on a back road
A shortcut but slow
She was with her friends
But I was new to her
The others stayed in the field
Grazing luscious grass they'd found
I asked Betsy to follow me
She smiled and turned my way
I drove slowly for her to follow
She followed good
How long will this last
Strange stuff ahead frightened her
She turned her back
Headed for her herd
. . .
- Photo and Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2025 All Rights Reserved
- I am linked with "Friday Writings" 203 at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1
. . .