Sunrise, Sunset

October finally arrives in Oklahoma, the hot wind and temperature of summer are now a bad memory. I take my morning coffee to the patio and breathe in the crisp pre-dawn air, just enough chill to give me goose bumps. Watching the eastern sky the yellows, reds and oranges of another beautiful sunrise was just peeking over the horizon, I had a thought, no a brilliant idea and it was time for action.

I ran inside and grabbed my shop keys, I then told Beautiful to go get dressed, that we’re going for a ride. I opened my shop and after taking the car cover off, I dropped the top on my 1950 Dodge Wayfarer Sportabout. I started it and moved to the front of the house, once inside I grabbed a jacket for me and Beautiful, along with a blanket for her to wrap up in. I then made a thermos of coffee, grabbed a couple of bagels and apples. By then Beautiful was ready, so we hopped in and took off. If we hurry, we can catch the last of the sunrise on Mount Scott in the Wildlife Refuge.

The Old Gal purred as we climbed the mountain, and the car ran well also. At the top, we parked and watched the last oranges turn to red then to yellow before the sun chased the colors away and replaced it with a bright blue sky. We watched as the world came alive, the birds started singing, we watched the buffalo herd head towards the lake, and the park ranger asking us why we were up there before the park opened.

With a last sip of coffee, I crank the old flathead six over and we head to the house, the highlight of the day over, or maybe not, in about twelve hours the sun will have to set, sounds like another road trip is in our future.

Sand Pebbles

Remember the wet sand between our toes,
As the waves kissed our feet?
The midnight moonlit walks
With stars in our eyes.
We swore that we would live there
Some day.

Now I wash the blood soaked sand
From my boots
The stroll we so loved
Now tarnished with war.
Never will I yearn to feel those sand pebbles again,
If I return to you.

Sandra Dee, We'll Miss Thee

It's been a while since my last "It's been a while" post.  I've gotten skinny and then I've gotten fat.  I've lost more hair, and my job is really boring at the moment.  So why am I back after such a long absence?  I'm glad you asked.

I recently heard of the passing of a "on-line" friend, a fellow classmate of my first writing class.  She had a writing style all her own, one that left you waiting, hoping she'd post another one of her creations.  That class was a lot of laughs, at lot of learning from each other and from Ann, the teacher, it was one of the most enjoyable times in my life.

Here is what I posted on Ann's Writing site

New Year, New Post

To say it's been a while, is an understatement.  I've had plenty to say, but I just didn't put it down on paper.  Before I knew it, 2015 was a bad memory and 2016 swooped in to pick up where it left off.  I was going to rant about several things, but decided I'm going to try to be positive this year.  That will be hard for a old fart like me.  Instead, I think I'll take a cue from the Jerry Seinfeld show and post about nothing.  Hope you enjoy it.

Blind Date

From a writing prompt @Ann Linquist Writes: 

 

 Use these phases;

1. Isn’t anyone going to give me a break?
2. Am I going to have to separate you two?
3. Who said?
 

Blind dates. I hate blind dates, but a promise is a promise and I promised double date with my best friend. What an idoit, I mean idiot. But his gal isn’t bad looking, how bad can her cousin be anywho? I look at my gorgeous self in the mirror and decide it’s too late to try and make myself look bad so she wouldn’t feel so self-conscience being with a stud like me. I hear a honk, so out the door I go, oh crap, what if he meant she was really blind….

I climb into the back seat of my friend’s ’57 Chevy and come face to face with one of the most beautiful girls I ever seen in person. Now who is going to be self-conscience. Introductions proceeded, yadayadayada, I sit back on the passenger side of the back seat and before I can say “sockittomemama” she was at my side. We proceeded to talk and get to know each other, and before I knew it, her hand was high on my thigh, “Oh my.” she said, “is that a banana or are you just glad to see me.” Really, did you just say that? Her cousin, yelled from the front seat, “Believe me, that ain’t no banana.” How did she know?

We were on our way to a pizza place in another town, a 30 minute drive. With it being January in an old car with a bad defroster, before long the back side glass was steamed up, not that we noticed. We pulled into the pizza place, and my friend and his gal stepped out of the car, he pulled the seat forward to help us out but we were in lip-lock heaven. He yelled at us, “Hey, am I going to have to separate you two?” We didn’t budge, “Come on, isn’t anyone going to give me a break? I’m starving.” She broke off the kiss and started buttoning her blouse, I tried to get my hair to lay down, along with other things. It was a long journey inside with the limp I had to walk with.

While we were waiting for our pizza to arrive, the song “If” by Bread came on the jukebox. She stood and grabbed my hand and we slow danced in the isle beside our table. Before the chorus started another couple started dancing beside their table, our friends joined us as we slipped into a world of our own. Before we knew it the clock was striking 12, and where the Chevy didn’t turn into a pumpkin, it was time to part. A long goodbye kiss, an exchange of addresses and phone numbers with the promise that we’d once again meet.

Who said blind dates are a bad idea?

The Middle Of Rubble

I look at pictures of the rubble after 9-11, and wonder just what my life, my heart, looks like.  I wonder if for a moment I saw my soul in all it's sinful condition, the way God see me, how would that change my live?  I know me, probably better than anyone else on this green earth, and I know that sight wouldn't be pretty.  Pretty scary actually.  And the fact is, there is nothing I can do about it.  Yes, I'm probably not on the Charles Manson, crazy pycho scale, but neve-the-less, my soul is black, I fail consistantly, I walk my path and don't bother to ask for directions from the One whom would guide me down the narrow path safely until I made it Home.  Yes, I would be scared to see me as God sees me except for one thing, one choice I made many years ago. 

Just like the pictures of 9-11, my soul was rubble, a burnt out, blackened shell.  Now I know that what God sees when he looks at me, isn't the junk, the poor choices, the stupid stuff that I do.  No, just like the picture from 9-11, what God sees when He looks at me is the Cross, He looks at me through "rose colored glasses" tinted by the blood of Christ.  My soul is His, as the song says, "I'm washed in the blood," and no longer is the rubble I've made of my life visible to Him, as he forgives and forgets. 

Other attacks will come, there will still be rubble in my life, but I no longer fear them, as I know I will rise from the rubble, to a life I can't now imagine.  And as another song says:, "O What A Day That Will Be."

Why I Don't Write Poetry 2014-1

Love descended on her,
Not expected.
Making her life a blur.

Would it last a season?
Or last a lifetime?
No time to think, to reason.

I watch with eyes fully open
As this Love unfolded
Between the two chosen ones.

But Love is cruel,
Vicious, unkind.
Making someone always play the fool.

The wind came one day of gray,
And with the leaves,
Whisked her Love away.

He left for a world of sand,
Sent to defend a people,
A selfish land.

The letter said he was very brave,
Protected his men, his life,
Until the very last wave.

Now she holds a metal of gold,
Something to be proud of,
That's what she's told.

But a metal of gold,
Won't hold you tight,
Or shield you from the cold.

But she'll go on.
And she will fight her own crusades.
Another casualty of a battle won.