Johnclarestokes
Daily she would load.... White Teddy...Black baby...and green monkey...in the red wagon...and they would visit...me. Then one day...White Teddy...Black baby...and green monkey...in the red wagon....stopped coming to visit...me. I later learned....White Teddy...Black baby...and Green Monkey....in the red wagon...were evicted from their home...And so I missed...White Teddy...Black baby...and Green Monkey...in the red wagon....coming to visit...me.
Deut.2:3.
One more week
Seems since leaving JCPenney after 19 years, the jobs have been a succession from six to one years. So come the first of August, this job I’ve done for three years is being out sourced and my time ends, again. I am improving, as my last job, after four years, I was fired from. For taking photos. This job was, taking photos. The irony. This last job that was outsourced ended but they liked me and found a place for me, as a driver, porter. This lasted another year or so until my stroke finally did me in.
This photo was taken while on a one year job, reading meters for FPL, a high ranking best job ever.
John Clare Stokes
Oh Osiana! We shall never know
Why to Benton you came into a world of kerosene
fat lighter walls and woods that seem
To stretch forever above the lanterns glow
Oh Osiana! Too dark were the long Needmore nights
the need to always trim the lamps
set high above your outstretched hands
When to you the stars offered enough light
Oh Osiana! Oil upon your gown of pure cotton
Too angelic for the time you came
Surrounded in the glare of a terrible flame
Too soon after that full moon your dying done
Oh Osiana! Why to a world of kerosene did you come!
Henry David Thoreau, Walden
Beyond Measure
John Clare Stokes
Once the man was rich beyond measure
Seven boats for his maritime pleasure
Once the man was rich beyond measure
Seven bikes to pedal at his leisure
Once the man was rich beyond measure
Seven cameras of the fastest aperture’s
Once the man young, time was unmeasured
Seventy years lived, now most treasured
John Clare Stokes
When a little boy
When counting to ten
seemed plenty long
to run and hide
I’d find that secret place
where they’d never find me
and they’d search
and their voices would grow
anxious
and they’d say
that’s long enough John
come out wherever you are
Eventually after taking all the fun
from hide and seek
I’d emerge and run safely to the base
but no one was there to tag me
they had moved on to some other fun
today, I am yet in the same hiding place
I can hear God counting
he’s up to seventy
Not tiring of the seeking
Oh, He must find me
He must!
Before the game is done
And He moves on
To tag another it.
john cla55
this is just a friendly warning
in case you suddenly hear
a horn sounding
be kind to those less than you
help those below you
you have always been a starter
consider those on the bench
not having any moments
of glory
of scoring
of playing first string
just a warning
your time is coming
to sit the bench
to let the lesser in the game
for up in the booth
there now sits Bruce
they said the meek shall
inherit the horn
and so he has
and he guards that horn
faithfully
and he will quickly sound it
if he see's you out there
ball hogging
fouling
taking all the glory
its now not about the winning
its now all about the loving
and the caring
and the hugging
and the humility
and the recognizing
those upon the bench
just a friendly warning....
Leaving Williston on Robert Philpot Way(CR316) heading for Frogs BBQ when suddenly a thoroughbred runs into our path. Fortunately for my slow, always looking around for scenery, I saw him coming. The impatient car behind me didn’t and almost rear ended us and the horse. He sped on around angrily. Melanie and I pulled over and as she held the open gate, trying to keep the other horse in, I finally herded back the beautiful horse wanting to visit his horse neighbors across from their field.
Ironically, this was near the Neals place on 27 where Melanie’s sisters horse once got out via a deliberately cut fence and was hit and killed.
On our way taking Linda back to Bronson, we drove down the lane to the Verbenadale Church. It’s still valiantly standing, though barely. It’s forever a sad reality that places once so dear are allowed to fall.
In my dreamland world, places like Verbenadale are lovingly restored and cherished for future worshipers.
I pinned to the the Frogs Wall. Frogs we had tonight. I asked for the original sauce, which is mild. It needed more saturation into the bun, but still, my favorite pork BBQ sandwich of all I’ve tried.
The current iteration of Williston’s Top of the Hill will never match my Iteration from the 70’s, Holiday Inn in her glory, JN’s convenience store with the pin ball machines and honey bun lunches, no Peso’s, the once a gas station then a location for Friday night after Red Devil football dances, FFA with Ferris and KFC galore bought home by my sister.
