RodWords

         PATHWAY'S PURPOSE

Everything wonderful,

Beautiful, free,

Warm Summer wind,

Tall Winter tree.

Death-colors of Autumn,

Burst-brilliance of Spring,

Sparkle of star-light

to Saturn-wrapped ring.

Thousands of trillions of

Faces in time,

Rip-roar of oceans,

Great mountains sublime.

The intricate snowflake,

Red Sun, powder Moon.

The pure joy of children

with up-bobbling balloons.

The sorrow, the splendor

in life, love and land,

All pathways find purpose when I'm

Holding God's hand.

Q #2

Water is

the universal solvent.

Or is it

Love?

         THE ADVENTURES OF JACK AND BILL

I called her Jack.

She called me Bill.

Or sometimes, when serious, William.

My real name was Roddy.

Her real name was Doris Waller, or sometimes, Dodo.

     But that doesn't work

     when you're rocketing a spaceship

     Or crash-landing on a planet.

So, my Godmother, in her sixties

changed her play-name to Jack,

to sound cool when calling

from Mission Control.

          [Any 7-year-old kid will tell you,

          "Earth to Bill" out-cools

          "Earth to Roddy" any day.]

Especially Saturdays

when I arrived at the small house on Tustin Avenue

where a plot of garden

was lovingly unplanted, and

I had my play place in other-worldly dirt.

Uncle Eddy stepped out

holding the box of space-play toys

and the missions began!

          "Mission Control to Bill, do you read me? Over?"
          "Roger, Jack read you loud and clear!"

                         "Loud and clear."

                                                "loud and clear."

                                                                              "...loud and clear..."

Until, sadly, one day

Bill went away, Rod took his place

and went away to high school in Oceanside,

back for weekends and summers, and sadly,

     never returning to the little house on Tustin.

          Never returning the phone calls, the letters,

               Never remembering to

                    Remember.

Until a day when

Eddy Waller and Doris Waller

flew their spaceships to distant skies.

Quietly now, decades later,

I click memory's microphone, and

     "Earth to Jack, Earth to Jack,

     this is Bill, this is William.

     I'm so sorry.

     I love you.

     Over."

OR

Sugary Dark, Sugary Light

Launch Pad

YesterWords

Concrete Moon

Glassy Blur

SquarePort

Sprigs

Bowl of Stoot

Sparky Flamette

Brushy Broomwhistle

Tongs Rakebury

(At Last) The Splashery

Selections From 

OIL CAN PENCILRY 

January 2014 to...

All Writing © 2014 Filament City Media