NaPoWriMo

And so begins another year,
Although my muse is not too clear.

Thirty poems are lots of fun,
And now I’ve managed thirty-one.

Editor’s Note: This was written during a series of puppy health crises in April, earlier this year. I almost deleted it when Flower rallied at that point, but sadly, I knew someday, I would need it. She crossed the bridge on August 13, 2014.

A Rose had many children.
Four girls and a boy.
But she only had one Flower,
Who was her pride and joy.

Fifteen years later,
Her Flower is feeling old.
It’s finally changing from Winter,
But it’s still a little cold.

The air is filled with pollen,
All the birds begin to sing.
A sad thing to discover,
Sometimes Flowers die in Spring.

A Traveler’s Prayer

Dear Lord,
Please keep me safe from harm.
Let me return home safely.
And please keep me from
Killing my companions.
Amen.

Crisis

I’ve drunk cheap Scotch,
I’ve had bad food.
I’ve been insulted
By people who were rude.

It just made me stronger.
These problems that I met.
But then I went sailing,
And lost the Internet.

That one hurt.
A lot.

Diaspora

Thousands of raw acres
of prime South Texas land.
Mesquite, minimal water,
Fossils, fences and sand.

It’s a place to raise cattle,
With horsepower and sweat.
You can become wealthy,
It’s just not how to bet.

From the thousands of acres
Generations sliced off their share.
One ranch became ranches,
But nobody seemed to care.

The pastures were a man’s world,
There were no girls allowed.
There were many disappointments,
Some best not said out loud.

When I first visited the ranch,
It stretched as far as I could see.
Someone said, “That’s nothin’, son”.
“This used to reach to Uvalde.”

One by one, they moved to town,
It’s where they all belonged.
This could have been the King Ranch,
If they could have got along.

Sail Away

Vacation at last has started.
We’ve finally left upon our trip.
The Captain saw my wife’s luggage,
“We’re gonna need a bigger ship.”

Outbound

I’m not that fond of Miami,
But it’s where the ships all live.
They won’t sail up to Dallas,
No matter how much I give.

We’re off to Barcelona,
I’ve never been to Spain.
(But I kinda like the music.)
That song is quite a pain.

See you in a couple weeks,
We’ll be sailing across the sea.
I’ll be thinking of you always.
Don’t have meetings without me!

Vacation Day

Vacation Day is like Christmas Day.
It changes as you age.
When you’re young, excitement.
When you’re older, stress and rage.

Where is the camera?
What’s in this bag?
Where’s the pet sitter?
Stop your crying jag!

Where is the taxi?
Isn’t it late?
I’m not ready yet.
I don’t feel so great.

Do we have everything?
What did we forget?
Who’s feeding Mom?
I don’t recall who lost the bet.

I’m almost ready.
Just one more conference call.
Go ahead and start loading.
I’ll be right with y’all.

Close the taxi door.
At last we are away.
Did you transfer all our savings?
Because now we start to pay.

Hey! I’m not hyperventilating.
I’m starting to unwind.
Stress is dissolving.
Real life is off my mind.

Did you turn the coffee pot off?

CVS Blues

This isn’t my prescription.
I need more of this drug.
This paperwork is last year’s.
I don’t get a jar, I get a jug.

My insurance covers this.
Why do you charge so much?
I think you ran it wrong.
Do you think we’re going Dutch?

This is pure insanity.
Why do I wait so long?
When I smoked pot in college,
My dealer never got it wrong.

I-635 Blues

Slide on over, baby.
Slide on over slow.
We’re about to miss our exit.
I don’t know where to go.

Move on over, baby.
Move on over fast.
There’s a tanker truck a comin’
I’m fixin’ to get passed.

Drive on over, baby.
Drive on to this song.
I’ve never seen such traffic.
It’s rush hour all day long.

Roll on over, baby.
You know my heart’s on fire.
There’s a pothole in the roadway,
And I’m about to lose a tire.

Glide on over, baby.
Glide on ’til you see.
There’s a thousand cars around here,
They’re all aiming straight at me.

Speed on over, baby.
Speed up as you drive.
I saw a sign back over,
That says go sixty-five.

Look on over, baby.
Look across your dash.
There’s a bunch of angry people.
They must have had a crash.

Slide on over, baby.
Slide on to arrive.
By the time they finish building,
I’ll be too old to drive.