Month: September 2018

If I were on a desert isle, and I knew I’d be there a while. What would be the best of ways, for me to pass the many days? Mounds of chocolate I could eat? Jet propulsion for my feet? Perhaps a shapely movie star? Sure would like a whiskey bar? Things to pass the … Read moreIf I were on a Desert Isle

Guess you know the Rolling Stones? Timeless Rockers – aging bones. Wonder how they do it all, perhaps it’s due to Geritol? But the Stones that keep me Rockin’, fall from Kidneys then start Knockin’. Passing out like Cantaloupe, being pulled by wire rope. Just no way to “Gimme Shelter,” when the pain begins to … Read moreMy Rolling Stones

Cupid, Bunny, Old Saint Nick, whatever day that you may pick, a symbol there to celebrate, happy times and feelings great. But what about the other dates, when most are in such dire straights? Here to help and lift your soul, I offer you The Mundane Mole. Now every day your routine starts, and branches … Read moreThe Mundane Mole

Sending thoughts to outer space, they’re not lost without a trace. Willing eyes are there to read, your posted words in blinding speed. The Internet exacerbates, what is seen to seal our fates. There is one tip I’d recommend, please think long ‘fore you hit “SEND.”

As I creep close to seventy, nostalgia rears incessantly. Memories seem to give me pause, and make it better than it was. Leather jacket – Rock n’ Roll, a simple life I could control. Wax my car then take a ride, a pretty chick sits at my side. Draggin’ main with windows down, meeting friends … Read moreMemories

A beauty in a field of grass, young but with a touch of class. Gold hair blowing in the breeze, designer boots up too her knees. Unaware her place in time, which is why I write this rhyme. To share with you just what I see, and grateful she’s a part of me!

I bag the leaves in Spring again, collect them up with some disdain. Seems the ones I raked last Fall, somehow returned to get my gall. As I bend to shove them in, thoughts do wonder what has been. How many years are left in me, to rake the leaves to some degree?

The house is small but it is ours, bought and paid just like the cars. Said our stay would just be brief, now thirty-six in disbelief. Not the place I thought we’d live, or all the years to it we’d give. With no regrets or need to rant, guess we’re here until we can’t?

Photographs and Memories, place in time sure guarantees. Faded yellow – younger years, facing life with minor fears. Now days time’s in megabytes, posted to those social sites. Future won’t be as before, no more photos in a drawer

“Aye” the Pirate says to you, “i’s”in Mississippi too, “eyes” in needles used to sew, “i” for times we used to know, “Eyes on Fridge” I mention here, seeing things that we hold dear, scraps of paper turned to gold, holding stories to be told.