Tag Archives: writing

Cameron’s Halloween

He steps onto the stoop
In the cool mountain air,
Glances at the night sky,
Are there witches to scare?

Four years old, now not so sure
If he’s the monster tonight
Or if real ghosts and goblins
Will give him a fright.

A parade of costumed kids,
From fairy-tales to scary-tales,
They yell “trick-or-treat”
From behind frightful veils.

Latter at home he spills his bounty
Spread out on the floor,
Mom says, “Have a taste tonight,”
Two small pieces, no more.

She pulls off his costume and
Lays him in bed, turns off the light.
He lies awake and wonders
If monsters still roam the night.

For the Broken Girl

I’ll hold your hand in mine to protect your heart
If you slip away, you’ll drift free like a child’s balloon, and
when you fall to the ground, your heart will be broken

and will shatter into a million pieces
Healed by time, your mended heart will grow back
with scars and cracks

The scars suppress memories of your pain,
cracks let hope seep in until your
heart once again fills with love

I’ll hold your hand in mine to protect your heart
If you slip away, you’ll drift free like a child’s balloon, and
I will spend a thousand years searching to find you again

Imagination Playtime With Cameron

We flew by the Sun,
My grandson and I,
On a witch’s broom
Custom made to fly.

We circled Venus and Uranus,
And Jupiter and Mars.
We flew on to the Milky Way,
And ate cookies surrounded by stars.

And when our fuel ran low
We landed on the Moon
Where the conductor said,
“The train will leave soon.”

“All aboard the Polar Express!”
He called, “Next stop planet Earth!”
We took our seats and fell asleep—
Waited to arrive at our berth.

We awoke on the sofa
Covered in Legos and spacemen,
And Cameron’s sweet voice,
“Grandpa, let’s do it again!”

The Word of the Day is So

Having moved beyond the intellectual confines of my career in finance, I now have time to ponder the great questions of our time. Like for instance, why do people overuse the word ‘so’ so darn much? Do they not realize in conversation it makes them sound like ignorant hillbillies from Kentucky or West Virginia- or perhaps Idaho? I mean seriously why must you be so sorry or so happy or so sad? Just be sad or sorry or for God’s sake be happy.

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