Saturday, May 28, 2022

Alone -- a Dark Poem for The Sunday Muse

  

Home Alone 

I'm here, all alone.  All alone except... 
Except that I do see my provider 
He brings me food and water now and then 
Now and then, because; when I do not know  

When's a nasty word to me, at his call 
He leaves my Cell with me, phone's disabled 
Disabled like I am, my mind is blank 
That's what he tells me, says to say to you 

So if you come then it is, move the wedge 
Wedge is gone, door can open, I'd be free  

 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022, All Rights Reserved 
 - Photo choices from Carrie's Prompt, The Sunday Muse #212
 - NOTE:  I will answer you calls if google allows me.  It is making me comment as "anonymous" on the Blogger posts.  Some aren't even allowed.  I will ANSWER to your blog if and when I can.  I can't even leave comments on my own blog.
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Friday, May 27, 2022

Cards -- Lost or misplaced?


          Cards; and a friend 

The little old man had fumbling problems 
Now again tonight at the register 
He couldn't seem to get his credit card 
Opened every pocket in his billfold 

It seemed to him a millennium passed 
Actually only a couple minutes 
and then I popped in with help on my mind 
I said to him, "Sir, hope it isn't lost" 

He let me check and sure enough not there 
"Would you please let me pay with mine, please, please"
Said this as I passed the card to the clerk 
He rung it up, "that's called paying ahead" 

"Thank you, thank you Sir" said the little man 
"I've had that done for me, comes in handy,"

Sometimes you gotta accept little helps 
And that little man, that was me one day
 _ _ _ 

 - Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022, All Rights Reserved
 - This week Magaly is inviting us to write poetry or prose inspired by something heartening and unselfish a stranger did for us or for someone else.  Friday Writings #28, 
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Saturday, May 21, 2022

A Tribute Poem

   

 To Min; my faithful pony  

Your name was Min 
best horse there's ever been 
(About you, Min)
Dappled white with 
small spots of gray throughout 
Always there for 
me to pet, brush, and stroke 
Min was Dads horse 
Bess, older, was for us 

Soon Min grown old   
became the horse for me 
Rode her to school 
high school three miles away 
Plodgey at first 
I taught her to gallop 
Also to jump 
the puddles and ditches 

Come rain and snow 
was off to school we'd go 
Bareback come cold 
Minnie would keep me warm 
New friends for her, 
they, very soon she made 
Other horses 
in the school barn, kids too 

Two girls we'd meet 
at the corner waiting 
Waiting for us 
to come over the hill 
Minnie first saw  
the girls and their horses 
Years quickly passed 
Two in town then we're gone 

Minnie retired, 
soon after pasture went 
I drove to school 
grades eleven and twelve 
Off to college 
made new friends boys and girls 
Minnie passed on 
Heaven's horse, friend of mine 
 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022, All Rights Reserved 
 - For the Photo Prompt I'm liked to Carrie for The Sunday Muse #211 at 
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Trees - for dVerse, a new form, The Constanza


Tall Trees

In a far away land tall trees  
 Under those trees quiet and still 
 Feeling breeze atop a small hill  

 Welcoming the birds and the bees  
 All are greeting the smiling sun  
 Make ready for a day of fun  

 Lake water to their roots does seep  
 Nearby lies its source a small lake  
 Water for all who needs can take  

 It's a place I would like to be  
 Tralala and twiddle dede  
 Birds lullaby makes a good sleep  
 
Little cottage under those trees  
 Whitewashed, red roof, with yellow trim  
 Make my home best place I have been  

 A far away land in the trees  
 Welcoming the birds and the bees  
 Lake water to their roots does seep   
It's a place I would like to be  
 Little cottage under those trees 
_ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022, All Rights Reserved 
 - I'm linked with Bjorn at dVerse for a new to us form, the Constanza.  Read of it here, 
 - Bjorn also supplied the photo.  I print screened it and touched it up a bit.
 - NOTE:  Google has hijacked me and will NOT ALLOW me to leave comments on your Blogger blog unless it permits me to post Anonymous comments.  Sometimes not even that liberty. (I don't allow anonymous comments on my blog because hundreds were robo-commented in an Asian language.)
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Friday, May 20, 2022

Speak Up -- a Poem for "Friday Writings"



    Go Tell 

If I could speak and you would listen 
I'd speak my peace 
Not popular what I have to say 

I'd buy a stump take it to the park 
Stump for human race 
For all, fairness, opportunity 

But those I'm not permitted to say 
Not in public speak 
It's rigged for the rich and powerful 

Poets arise, say it with your rhymes 
 _ _ _ 
 
 - Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022, All Rights Reserved 
 - I'm linked with Rosemary for Friday Writings #27,  
 - This week she is asking us what we would say in order to bear witness to these times we are living in, and how it feels to be living in them. 
 - The little book pictured above comes in handy sometimes.  I have another book, "The Complete Works of William Shakespeare," that I bought at a book store in Stratford-upon-Avon when we visited in 1980 but I have mislaid it for now, picture taking time.
 - One of my bucket list items is to attend, auditing, a college class of the works of Shakespeare but I am afraid that is one that will not be fulfilled.  I have waited too long.
 - 61 Words, ten lines, 93 syllables.  Short.  Flash Writing?
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Saturday, May 14, 2022

Ship in Bottle -- a Sunday Muse Write


   Ship 

I'm a ship in a bottle 
Adrift in the seas of life 
Bobbing where the current takes 
Hoping it takes me to you 

My rope's been cut loose 
I'm no longer tied 

Last night after it happened 
Sad but happy I'd become 
You can ask me why it was 
My answer is, "I don't  know" 

My rope's been cut loose 
I'm no longer tied 

Bobbing along I've no note 
Notes in their bottles are liked 
Write their answers toss them back 
Just me and my ship we float 

My rope's been cut loose 
I'm no longer tied 

When and if seas become rough 
Perhaps I'll land on your shore 
If you find me pick me up 
Ship bottle and me arrived 

My rope's been cut loose 
I'm no longer tied 

And if I'm on another 
Another shore where you aren't 
It'll be where you can find 
We will be together fine 

My rope's been cut loose 
I'm no longer tied 



[Me at St. Johns Island -- 
 turn your sound up]
 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022, All Rights Reserved 
 - I'm linked Carrie at the Sunday Muse #210, at 
where she showed four sea oriented pictures to help our inspiration.  I think tha I used three, possibly the fourth.
.. - annel step on the Yaer Air band

Friday, May 13, 2022

Curious -- The Singing Fellow


   Staying Curious No More

Little man, why do you sing like you do?  
Is it because I wind you up before
You shake your head, no, no, that isn't it 

Then tell me please, why do you croone like that 
Is there real blood running to your voice box? 
Course not you crazy fool, that isn't it 

As I sit and listen, your happy tune 
Perhaps it's solar makes you go, sunshine 
Guess again, I think you may never know 

Then I give up, won't you tell me please 
You turned the switch, three AA cells, that's it 
 _ _ _ 

  - Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021 and 2022, All Rights Reserved 
 - "Singing Fellow" photo by himself first published in 2021 here, 
 - And with his buddies, a singing Elephant and a Golfing Fellow in 2014, here, 
  - I'm linked with Rommy for prompt idea, "Curiosity" at 
 - This this week Rommy invited us to share poetry or prose inspired by the phrase, "stay curious”
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Wednesday, May 11, 2022

The Rabbit -- Little Rabbits Just Wanna Have Fun

 

   Little City Rabbits 

Little city rabbits are protected 
Seldom it is they get killed and eaten 
Zoning laws and deed restrictions protect 

Country rabbits on the other hand, they 
They are fair game for whoever can shoot 
Rabbit stew makes for any chef's delight 

I have no good  recipe for that stew, 
don't eat rabbit stew, don't like rabbit stew,
what's more I've never tasted rabbit stew.

Here in town just hawks and alligators 
Those two predators of little rabbits 
They keep the rabbit population down 

[Our front lawn taken standing on the sidewalk leading to the street] 

NOTE:  I have never hunted animals in all my life and I have never tasted rabbit meat.  I did go with my dad once and I have his rifle now.  I have never shot that rifle, a 22 gage.  
My mom would not dress or cook the rabbits that my dad killed.  So he took them to his mother, my grandmother, where she would skin and dress and then cook them. He ate them at Grandmother's house as well.  
 _ _ _ 

 - Photos and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022, All Rights Reserved 
 - I am linked with Minsky at dVerse, 
where she has asked us to write of "food".
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Monday, May 09, 2022

The Walk -- A Piece of Prose for dVerse

Walking Slowly

    Walking slowly along the ledge, a feeling of despair was heavily upon him. She had gone, he knew not where. Just that she was gone. Summer was coming early this year, not much left of spring.

    “'For how can I be sure I shall see again? The world on the first of May would come' * and go again, much like the last. I'm not a loner, got to have some company along life's way. Everything is a blur unless I have company. And some help, help explaining what I'm seeing.”

    Out of seemingly nowhere a figure comes his way. “She's carrying a big sign, it says 'COMPANY WANTED, I am alone.' 

    My prayers might be answered, Ma'am, may I be the one you were looking for?”

    My name is Leslie, what is yours?”

    I go by Eddy.”

    That will do.” 


NOTE:  * per prompt, exact wording.  See below.

_ _ _ _

    Photo and Writing, except for blurb in italics, Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022, All Rights reserved.

    - The Words in Italics, 

    For how can I be sure I shall see again The world on the first of May” –From “May Day” by Sara Teasdale, at https://dversepoets.com/2022/05/09/prosery-sara-teasdale-and-may/ were furnished by  by merrildsmith in Prosery at the dVerse writing blog as a prompt for our writing in Prose. Word limit by her instructions is limited to 144, I have exactly 144 words.  
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Saturday, May 07, 2022

The Ride -- Life Goes On -- a Poem for Sunday Muse

  

                Photo by Robert Doisneau 
                “The Ghost Train,” 1953
 
  The Ride; something special?

Ride of my life I'm looking for 
Too old for ponies I was told 
Truth comes hard not child any more 

Life change, adolescents we were 
Corny jokes tickles and pinches 
Crushes, fickle loves and breakups 

Come scarey tunnel of darkness 
Moments getting more serious 
Teens we learned every part of love  

High school finished my grades were good 
Way too young still, took our chances 
Steamed romances settled on one 

Will marriage be the ride for me 
Cross my fingers hope for good choice
 _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022, All Rights Reserved 
 - Photo inspiration courtesy of Carrie as hosting The Sunday Muse #209, 
 - Her other choices today:




- All seemed to me to be stages of a woman's life.  See Carrie's link above for their artist's credits.
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- I have written every day in April for National Poem Writing Month, I hope you can classify all as poems of sorts.
 Each of the links below should pull up several writes from April 1 down to April 30 (today, 2022): 

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Thursday, May 05, 2022

Walking - Cinquain

 

  The Call

Mail call 
Me and my dog 
We went out a'walkin' 
Walkin' on the streets for our mail 
Walking

Walking 
Walking the dog 
The dog did her business 
And then was kicking her hind feet 
Kicking 

Kicking 
Kicked up some dust 
Her dust scared up a skunk 
The skunk came running after us 
Running 

Running 
Running full bore 
Didn't know friend or foe 
Came after us--turned rear our way 
Squirting 

Squirting 
Terrible smell 
Quick dog she stepped between 
She took all the smell, we went home 
Walking 
 _ _ _ 

 - Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022, All Rights Reserved 
 - I am linked with dVerse, hosted by ,
for the prompt, a 'challenge to write a Chained/crown Cinquin poem.
Chain/crown cinquain is:
 a series of 5 [entire] Crapsey Cinquains, 25 lines totalsyllabic count: 2-4-6-8-2 in each stanzawritten with a break between each stanzalast line of the previous cinquain repeated as first line of the next cinquain
Note: The final line of the last cinquain does not have to equal the first line of the first cinquain, but it is an option.(I did this, "Walking".) 
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Saturday, April 30, 2022

Flower Love -- NaPoWriMo 2023 Day 30

     Fleeting Love

She a window flower, 
and he a winter breeze *
Her early leaf's a flower 
but only so an hour ** 

He gives his harness bells a shake, 
and miles to go before I sleep ***
I could've died for love--
But for livin' I was born ****

Nobody knows this little Rose --
Did I not take it from the ways *****
If suddenly you forget me 
do not look for me, for I shall 
already have forgotten you  ****** 

 NOTES:  Line notes from their sources and URL's-- 
 _ _ _ 

 - Poem line sources Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022, All Rights Reserved 
 - I'm linked with NaPoWriMo 2022 Day 30 for the Prompt idea of writing a "Cento" form poem, 
 - The Cento borrows one line from several other poems to construct a poem of our own.  I chose the Flower Love theme to look for and use.  
 - References to other works are in the body notes above.
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April -- NaPoWriMo 2022 Day 30 -- it Ends Today


"Running Time" by
 Victor Bezrukover 
              _ _ _ 

Sifting fertile dirt 
Spread it helps the flowers grow 
Dirty hands will wash 
               _ _ _ 


     April to May Handover 

When April's day is done, last day 
Last day for another long year 
April showers have come and gone 
Has made ready for May flowers 

Plants are ready previews given 
All May bloomers have qualified 
Even the slow Magnolia 
has produced with two whites today 

The rest standing tall as can be 
White Oleander, purple white 
Yesterday and Tomorrows, pink Oleanders, 

Green we don't know what's guarding fence, 
Green all year Berried Holly Tree, 
Red Canna Lilly (up from freeze), 
Louisiana Iris tall, 

And Red Oleander cornered. 
Lily of the Nile for July,  
Rabbits eat Sunflowers come up, 
Oak tree takes roll, all are ready 


May will be here on the morrow 
All is ready for her to come 

 _ _ _ 

 - Photos and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022, All Rights Reserved 
 - I am linked for the top Photo Prompt with Carrie at the Sunday Muse #208, 
 - I am also linked with NaPoWriMo 2022 Day 30 (last day) at 
for my NaPoWriMo 2022 Day 30 AND IT IS POSTED on THIS BLOG at 
It was too much to post inside this one.
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- I have written every day, I hope you can classify all as poems of sorts.
 Each of the links below should pull up several writes from April 1 down to April 30 (today, 2022): 
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Friday, April 29, 2022

The Spoon -- NaPoWriMo 2022 Day 29


Born with, Good and Gooey

No silver spoon was I born with 
True, not even a stainless spoon 
Plastic hadn't been invented 
We were poor wasn't everyone 

"Things" didn't have sure woulda liked 
Electric train and others big 
But had the "little things" boys need 
Pocket knife, barrow wheel to push 

We were poor but plenty of love 
Things children need money can't buy 
 _ _ _ 

 - Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 21xx, All Rights Reserved 
 - I am linked with NaPoWriMo Day 29 for the prompt push, https://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-nine-8/ 
- I am also linked with Rosemary at her hosting's today of Friday Writings #24.  Congratulations, Rosemary, on your latest writing achievement.
 - Photo is my Fifth Grade school picture.  Eight in school, four of us were cousins.  Can you find me?
 - The prompt was to write a poem in which you muse on the gifts you received at birth — My gift, it really was, was being in a poor family.  A two bedroom, four room house called for sister to have the second, I slept on the front porch without heat or AC, all Nebraska seasons.  My grandfather and Dad closed it in with storm windows. 
 - Photo,  I was the boy in back, sister was front by our teacher.
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Thursday, April 28, 2022

The Cat -- NaPoWriMo Day 28 -- a Shape, Shaped, or Concrete Poem

     

                  The Cat in the Window 

                           (an)       (an)
                      (Ear)     (Ear) 
                     in the    window 
                my cat in the window 
          cat in the window looking out 
 (Eye) looking in, out for her friends, birds 
     Birds are singing, cat is smiling applause
       Sits, stares, and smiles for me 
        Smiling at me ready for her food 
     She's smiling at me ready for her meal
 She's smiling at me ready for her tasty meal 
   When it comes she'll jump down to where
    She'll jump down where I am
   (Leg     ) ready for supper now ready to eat, chomp down
   (Leg     ) wants it now ready to eat, chomp, swallow it down 
   (Leg     ) wants it now ready 
  (Foot      ) she'll be saying, "please, please, I want to eat" 
  (Foot      ) she gets her bowl will say  (tail tail tail tail tail tail tail tail) 
"Meow, meow, thank you, thank you" chomp, "Meow, I love you" chomp chomp  "Purr purr  purr   purr    purr     purr      purr       purr        purr . . . " 
   _ _ _ 

 - Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022, All Rights Reserved 
 - I am linked with NaPoWriMo 2022 Day 28 for Prompt instructions to write a "concrete poem" which I have always called a "shape or shaped poem", 
 - I am also linked with dVerse, Open Night, with Grace hosting, at
Go there to the Mr. Linky button at the bottom to find other's work
 - The Photo is of Amber, my grand-cat, belonging to our younger daughter, but who had lived with us almost all of her five years while she and family lived in London.  I took this picture from my 2007 posting,
Amber was a nice had.  She died in 2013 at age 19.
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Wednesday, April 27, 2022

Sunday Meal-- NaPoWriMo Day 27


We went out to eat last Sunday 
Money in pocket we could pay 

Pocket money pay our waitress 
Tip money too, buy her a dress 

Now pretty dresses cost a lot 
We wished to see the one she'd bought 

Tip money she'd got, happy girl 
Showed dress to us gave it a whirl 

Wife wore Pearl's came to eat again 
She'd spent all her money on them 

Like good men shared my meal with her 
To save the day and save her fur 

Money in pocket we can pay 
We can go to eat next  Sunday 
 _ _ _ 

 - Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022 
 - I am linked with NaPoWriMo 2022 Day 27 for writing prompt and to post my poem, https://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-seven-8/ 
 - The prompt was to write a Duplex Poem, a variation of the Sonnet 
 - The photo is of half my plate last Sunday, Mrs. Jim's was the same as I shared the other half with her.  We had a Shrimp Poboy, French fries, and Diet Cokes at our "Fish City" restaurant .
"With 10,000 restaurants representing cuisine from more than 70 countries and American regions, Houston's restaurant scene is as ethnically diverse as its more than 6-million residents. With so many options, it's not surprising that visitors leave the city with plenty of good things to say about dining in Houston." 
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Tuesday, April 26, 2022

The Day -- NaPoWriMo Day 26

The day there was nothing

I pulled over to stop 
A pulloff beconed me 
And when I did there was 
Nothing 

Nothing there of value 
to make my stop worthwhile 
Middle of the desert  
Nothing 

Nothing was there to see 
Not one thing impressed me 
Brown sand up close was all 
Nothing 

Nothing to see down there 
Creek had been dry for years 
Nothing there that could grow 
Nothing 

Nothing up there to see 
Nothing back where I'd been 
Brown beside on the hill 
Nothing 

Nothing here sand and rocks 
Fans of Brown have a feast 
Feast of nothing at all 
Nothing 

Nothing tugs, "in the car" 
In the car turn the key 
"Nothing" 
 _ _ _ 

 - Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022, All Rights Reserved 
 - I am linked with NaPoWriMo Day 26, 
 - There we are prompted to "write a Poem containing an epic simile, also known as a Homeric simile."
 - The photo is of my TV screen during a commercial.  I don't know what was being advertised, mostly I was trying to figure out the make, it is a Mazda Miata maybe?
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Monday, April 25, 2022

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, 
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Saturday, April 23, 2022

The Night -- NaPoWriMo 2022.Day 24


When We Were Young 

Like busy monkeys on their swings, we drove and drove almost all night long.  Honked at the boys, drag raced with them at the lights.  We outran them all, all except the older man driving a pukey green Corvette.   We were hopped up good, car and driver both.  And when one got tired the other would drive. 

Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights we roved the streets.  The guys could never catch us unless we caught them first.  Most of them had something to drink and offered us.  We don't drink spirits, only diet cola drinks. 

A few of the guys were okay for us young ladies, we generally ended up together at one of our homes when the parents were away.  Except for me, I lived in rented rooms and moved around town from one end to another.  

I had an apartment for a couple of weeks but then I left, landlady problems.  She didn't like our late night weekend parties.  And really didn't like when we all went to sleep and left the record player playing.  So it didn't take me long to tire of her griping and I moved out.

That was the settling.  Until -- 

Little Joe got married and both he and his new wife went away, into the Army.  He left so suddenly that we didn't even know, couldn't throw a party for him.  

We were all devastated!  Our world had been turned upside down. All us fishes left the bowl, parties over without Little Joe.  We'd cruise the streets still.  Could we bear partying again?

One person didn't leave, she could not.  She was paralyzed with grief, drifted in the bowl alone.  She had thought it was her whom Little Joe had loved.  

No wonder he had married in secret and left town so fast.  Ditched to float through life alone. 

Older guy with the pukey green Corvette?  He finally learned he wasn't up to being young. 


 - Piece of Prose Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022, All Rights Reserved  
 - I am linked with Carrie at the Sunday Muse #207,  
 - I am also linked with NaPoWriMo 2022 Day 24, 
 where we were asked to use at least one simile, I started mine with one.   Most similes use "as" or "like" to make a similar resulting comparison.
 - This story is mostly true except that I wrote it as first person tense by one of the participating young ladies.  I had hot rodded my 1952 Ford Tudor really bad, it out ran even the new Chevy V8's with power pac.  
 - We had Little Joe's goodbye party anyway, after he had left.  And there were others cruising but not the green Corvette. 
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Kay Ryan -- NaPoWriMo 2022 Day 23



 The Cow; 
   my encounter 

Met her that 
day, a rainy 
day.  A small
road and a
large cow, 
small road in 
Ireland. 
She peeked in 
my car her 
head was wet.
We chatted - 
cow talk it 
was.  Backseat 
interpreter help 
with her cow 
tongue -- cow 
had said she 
was leaving me 
a cow pie 
 _ _ _ 

 - Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2007 and 2022, All Rights Reserved 
 - I am linked with NaPoWriMo 2022 Day Twenty-three, 
 - We are to write in the "style of Kay Ryan, whose poems tend to be short and snappy ... "
 - "... read a few, you’ll see what I mean. Here’s her “Token Loss,” “Blue China Doorknob,” “Houdini,” and “Crustacean Island.”

Happy writing!

 - Kay Ryan, Wikipedia https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kay_Ryan 

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