Sitting around in anticipation of a long night. Always somewhat nervous due to the large pines in the yard. Anxious about the generator never used. Not thrilled with toying with it in the night if needed, which if things go like any high winds, we will. Interested in seeing how the two loads of dirt keep water out of the back yard.
I portend
I do miss
The ocean....
I cannot hide
There are times
That I am drawn
Toward the tides...
I have to say
There are the days
I roil upon
The inner waves...
While in my mind
I find
The break of infinity
Time and time
Again
In this ocean.
Johnclarestokes
To the tides
Once I was a king with a throne
I ruled the realm from Faith, Rose
Orange and Dickson in the land
of Sopchoppy county Wakulla
There was a sister one Paula Jean
meant to sit upon the throne
but she came gender wrong
John Clare Stokes
It’s again about that time
The current should be slowing
the shoals less roiling
a day or even two to find.
Pray the power stays on! Though it’s doubtful. We have a squirrel who regularly trips it.
Mr Davis came and wouldn't you know the plug he got was wrong, so hes gone to get the right one!
In 2002 we had a daughter Brittany Nixon for about a year. At the time Melanie and I were foster parents and we had Brittany, whose father and mother were in prison for the murder of her step sister, then 8 months old. We were going through the adoption process when a relative showed up from Daytona to claim custody of her. It was a tough day when we handed her over to Dept of Family Services. We left a photo book for her to remember us but we felt the relative would never show her as she had such a negative view of fostering.
We never saw Brittany again. So we actually have two children we hold hope for someday seeing again.
Melanie said where could she get gas? She thought she would have to come and get the cans for the generator. I had to tell her Roscoe and I drove down and got it this morning. One station was already out. I’m not supposed to be driving.
What a shame in 2020 we were in the pandemic lie wearing masks. Taking deadly vaccines. Allison is seen behind Trump wearing a Trump mask.
John Clare Stokes
So grateful in the fall of twenty twelve
We were able to take mamma to see
The old holler where she came to be
As we rode to Crumpler she would tell
now that was where Evelyn and I
took that poor snake and burnt it
And there is where we paid with script
Where up Crumpler Mountain we’d slip
There’s the Methodist Church where Rev Looney
first suggested I should attend Asbury
Where Luke and I were later married
Where Gerald always held in my heart a tune
The old whistle post just beyond the church
Still towered rusting, once calling miners home
Out from the Pocahontas hills into the stucco homes
Or roused at night, the wailing telling that deep down something
had gone terribly wrong
Turning to return to Bluefield then Princeton
Rounding slowly another steep switch back
In my imagination I could clearly see
Her daddy’s bus full of miners and one
found kitty named Black Daisy
Bringing it home for his sweet Clara Jean.
