It’s a Secret

Not always rocking, but a whole lot of musical fun! — I was an active singer in live performances long before I learned a musical instrument, or played in bands. I recall beginning my vocal stage performances at age ten. Not so, according to my big brother, (BB). A fond early memory was of a time our family was holidaying in…

We might be surprised! — Grandad was an artist with firm ideals, A mighty Conscientious Objector. He painted watercolors to express his feels Grandma — the at-home protector Ern’s life spent in majestic creation Fashioning furniture lovingly turned With pictorial inserts, such gleaming sensations — Glowing reputation, well-earned. What would they say about year twenty-two, Given…

But nothing can match my cold, cold heart It’s winter in the Southern Hemisphere, and in some parts of the country, snow lies on ground that loves a springtime green pasture, and a cow to graze. Someone once asked me what July meant to me. When I heard the question…

Until she doesn’t — Tiny drops moistly sprinkle, Sloshy drops fall splosh, Icy spots like needle points, Starry drops twinkle. Rain and sleet on gathered storm, Showers filter sun. Drizzle cools the heat of day, Summer rain that warms. Rain incites my joyous twirl. Pitter patter — dance. A flowing water ballet, Dance on sunburnt soil. Rivulets to raging creek. Seek cover from storm, Part the hanging window shades, Risk an outward peek.

The plight of old Phoenix — Attention devotees of swine, Especially the pink flying kind. You think they are special, Like angels — celestial, But I like them soaking in brine! No shame! — Angel piggie, I’m here, I’ll save you — no tears will you fear. …

A posh fable for hoighty toighty readers — There once lived a man who had been inclined to go frantically about his business — a feverish horse trader who stopped at nothing to transact a sale. Sadly, for him, in the most recent of times, he had been forced to cease his maniacal activities. The problem was, he…

When the hell is summer coming? — During the cold months, I seem to lounge about, watching myself through a damp, chilling fog, sluggishly moving through my days. Winter leaves me in a permanent haze. Nothing has meaning; joy lies dormant, stuck, waiting for that inexplicable something to kick-start me back into reality. I was born at…

Wake Up! — 1965 — Raine, 15, at the time of the Vietnam Conflict: “Ban the bomb!” cried the fantail, As it flew — as it flew into the sky. Forests razed, a toxic trail, Nature mourned — plants and fauna wilting, die. Human beings railed! Fantail soared in acid heights, Dark cinders ripped…