Breathtaking

  

It takes your breath away 

Don't go near what I found 

This time seems out of world 

A lake of water pink 

Rainbow inching away 

Daybefore pearly blue 

Boats being rowed around 

Around and under it

No boats today splashing 

Splashes would burn your skin 

Chemicals unheard before 

A new world has been made 

World above and below 

World not fit for beings 

Even scientists don't know 

"Stay away, burn to ashes."

. . .  

Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2026 All Rights Reserved I am linked with and written in response to Sumana Roy,s prompting post 

. . .

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

“This world has no meaning. Why would we bother?"

 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

Days come and go

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) . . .

This poem is a car that was fallen.

⁹

This poem is a car that will not start. 

This poem is a car with broken buttons. 

This poem is a car with flat tires. 

This poem is a car with a slipping transmission. 

This poem is a car that drives like it's a hundred years old. 

 This car is a car that's been in the garage ten years without being driven. 

This poem is a car that was for sale. 

This poem is a car that I gave away. 

. . . . Poem Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2026 All Rights Reserved I am linked with and written in response to Mish's prompting post, Open Link #404 at dVerse (Sorry but my machine is broken, it refuses to print the line distribution intended) . . .

Legacy

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

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) . . .

Ethics

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)

Easter Bunny

“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 ..

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

. . . 

Lookin Back

 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

 

  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

   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

. . . 

Message to All

 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

Women's Day

 

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

. . . 

Two Feet Jimmy

 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 

 . . .

Unspoken

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 

Mary's prompt "The Unspoken" at What's Going On? 

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

Awake from the Moon

This evening Sherry Blue Sky has enticed us to find blessings from the things in the sky. 

Suprise, surprise; 

  Blessing Opposite 

I look at the moon, 

I'm trying to sleep 

Sleep hard to come 

Ever let's me sleep?  

Tonight's one of those 

Try to sleep I do 

She thinks I'm in love 

Moon brilliant lady she 

She has love juice ooze 

Tries to juice me up 

Blessings from all that?

Would I love her more 

If there's any mine 

Love her not really 

Still that I don't feel 

 

I do feel the juices 

And I'm not surprised 

She has it written 

Written smeared for me 

But that doesn't take 

All that I'm thinking 

She keeps me awake 

. . . 

Poem and Photo Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2026, all rights reserved. 

 -Written in response of Sherry"s prompt,  at https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/?m=1 

Night of Snow

        

    Donuts Begging

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/

Having Shelter Protection

 . . . 

. . . 

A one room apartment 

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. 

Groundhog Day February 2nd

 

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

 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. 

Church Time of Day

 was told this week, "we will invite you to write about the time of day you like best, and why."

. . . 

Sunday Morning 

Something about Sunday Morning 

No other do I remember 

They started out with staying home 

Mother wouldn't take us to church 

Seems she feared talking other moms 

"She brings the kids with dad at home"

Then one day came, all was different 

"Kids get dressed up.  We're goin to church 

Dad had been mean to mom, she'd cry 

Mothers shouldn't be made to cry 

But that different Sunday and on 

Dad was nice, we all went to church 

I said this a bit nice of Dad 

He still boxed my ears, no reason 

Thinking grandpa must have boxed his 

. . . 

- I am linked with "Friday Writings #211" with Rosemary with a poem optional of her suggestion at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1

Note: a Favorite song of mine is "Sunday Morning Coming Down", a CW with line "Put on my cleanest dirty shirt." 

See below:

Didn't give up / Zombie Tree

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."

. . .

Evening on the Beach

 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 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?"

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

. . .

Adi and I and Them

            

    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  

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/

. . . 

Food Ritual

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

. . . 

 - Photo and Prose Piece Copyright ©️ jimmiehov 2025 All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with Magaly's "Friday Writings" 205 at  https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/?m=1 

 . . .

Cranked Up

     

   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. 

. . .