a blue is coming through

There we stood beneath the incoming blue
Why was it only we saw it coming through?
They travel across countries just to view
And there we stood rapt in the blue
We posted the view upon our page
Most thought it just a bit above average
You told me it wasn't worth the rage
To remember I am three times their age.
So with the blue glow fading fast
We commented, wasn't that nice
A blue coming through





For me and you

Sulphur Scribes

by john clare

We were never the poets we thought,
It's uncertain any words ever fell in place.
With each using of one, another went to waste,
The discarded word then vainly sought.

I sat beside a flower with my pen,
What words I knew I used.
Carefully composing the words I chose,
Like plucking choice gold leaves from fall winds.

A sulphur lit and to her I rhymed,
To me it was quite an event.
It was beyond any word written,
Poetical as Frost's best lines.

Then the Cranes came upon the breeze,
That sound from beyond time.
In itself a gathering of Nature's rhyme,
Each composing upon paper blue sky effortlessly.

It was then an order became evident,
I was freed from finding the rhyme,
Of trying to compose within the lines,
Before me rose a curtain un-rent.

The scene I saw was of threaded light,
We simply pull the needle slowly to see,
Only the light flecks this side of the tapestry,
Backing black yet necessary to see the
other side wedding white.

We are to give sound to the unheard,
Not mere poets but translators and scribes,
Preserving in word His light coursing ride,
Touching you, me, cloud, bee and bird.

January 31st Mizpah

From Job 22:14.

In the evening chronicle of the moon, of which lately I have become rather intrigued, I pulled the camera on the tripod over to the left and shot some dipper scenes. This one is a 360 degree pan of the camera on the tripod for a thirty second exposure, even though it made a half arc. Very cool. Time lapse works the same, if you can get it right. The stars move and make the same trail.

And January Ends

The 5th and we celebrated the birth of our first grandson Nathaniel Manoa from our first son Landon and his wife Amber. On the 8th Melanie and I celebrated our 24th anniversary from that Jacksonville Marathon Honeymoon. On the 13th we celebrated Melanies 4oth something birthday. Later come the 25th, Jordon had his 19th birthday, our second son. Then come the 30th, this boy from the coal fields of Bluefield, West Virginia celebrated his 57th circuit around the sun. It was a good month.

Final Fridays

by john clare

The Friday you said I was fired
Clean your desk, here is a box
We will give you the discount of
the retired
Nineteen years and they changed
the locks.
That is the risk one takes
When you place family first
You determine to stay put
Not moving to Albany's turf.
And so you wrote me up
Documented the little mistakes
No matter I wasn't corrupt
Did not with employees love make.
I learned later from a friend
That finally you got your due
Sexual harrassment was your end
Sure was hard to feel sorrow for you.
But I am certain you bounced right up
Found another manager's position
Seems those who lust for the butt
Go right on with the kissing
While the loyal like me
End up working under bosses like you
Wondering come our Friday's
If you are in the mood for someone to screw.

Long Haul

It's a long haul my little Jumpy
My dear one with the scars
Scars I would have worn for thee
My precious son now marred.

It's a long haul my little Jumpy
The hurdles are so high
The goal line so far from thee
How fast my son passes by!

It's a long haul my little Jumpy
I am in the stands cheering
I hope you can hear me
Run my Son to tapes tearing.

It's a long haul my little Jumpy
From the sand pile and swing
The flowing ole Sopchoppy
Your grand, grand dreams.

It's a long haul my little Jumpy
Mamma still takes your hand
Lifts you from the cedar tree
Hangs your painting so grand.

It's a long haul my little Jumpy
Soon mamma breaks the plane 
Outpacing her little running lad
Legs vainly trying to gain.

It's a long haul my little Jumpy
Know when long you have run
Far,far seems the victory
I shall come to cheer my son.

It's a long haul my little Jumpy
Mamma's little gridiron boy
It's a long haul my little Jumpy
Mamma's little hurdling boy.

Come Prepared 14 of 14

So my story ends for now. The morning I came upon the mark of the cross above the path that led from the clash of the Red Palmetto and the Mist.  In our journey through, try as we may to prepare for all the possibilities, the best preparation we can carry is the anticipation of the extraordinary to occur. That day, I was loaded for bear. And when the Bear rose and the Red's marched beside the Palmetto to face the Mists, I followed and I thus return to tell you. As Ripley said, Believe it or not!

A sign given 13 of 14

And there, emblazoned upon the tree, the marked spot with a cross and the letters R and P.  And then the path was gone, blending as quickly as the Mists receded.  But as I stood looking back, I knew that I had witnessed the grand confrontation of the Red Palmetto and the Mists. If not for the descending of  heavenly Grace, it is certain I would have succumbed to the overwhelmingly powerful Mist.

A path provided 12 of 14

As for me, I was granted by this heavenly grace, a pathway of escape. Suddenly, before me rising from the forest floor out of the cypress and pine needles, a path, leading me from the place the Palmetto and the Mists met that morning. Much as I desired to remain, I knew I must quickly take this opportunity of mercy.

The descending graces 11 of 14

And as the legions of the Palmetto stood upon the threshold of the Mists, descending between the pulsing line of combatants, came the Heavenly Graces, restoring in a twinkle order to the upturned wood. As suddenly as this march had begun, catching every element within the forest up in the march, including this interloper, all was calm and of one peace. The Mist that was at once menacingly enveloping, was now but a lingering, harmless wisp. The Palmetto swordsmen now swayed peacefully. The Red's a lesser color of crimson. In the distance a Pileated chattered the news over the Hammocks longing for their loved ones called into the march.

Two by two 10 of 14

In columns of two they strode to the edge of the Mist. Today would be the grand reckoning, the moment the heart of the pine would pour forth an amber hue. Swords drawn, a quiet before the call came. We waited that terrible word to charge forth into the Mist. But instead of the terrible word, something beyond comprehension occurred above. Of one gathered eye we all peered into the heavenly light appearing.

We March 9 of 14

Never in the life of the wood had we witnessed the march to the last leaf. What stirred such an urgency in the realm, that they would risk their all, to face this Misty foe?