I watched him reach up on top of a shelf and take hold of something long and brown to bring down just as I heard Karen say, “Hi! I’m here,” as she opened the screened door to step in.

I turned to look at her with a big smile when I heard a loud noise like a car muffler’s pop and then saw Karen fall back onto the cement, never getting inside the door.

While sitting at my desk writing about the vivid memories of my childhood — specifically when I was seven, almost eight, when I lost my friend Charlotte — I can’t stop crying. Why am I sobbing about the loss of my friend so many years later, when I didn’t shed a tear at the time? I kept asking myself.

In retrospect, it seemed that when the ball of death started rolling, it wasn’t going to stop. But we didn’t realize the ball started rolling with Charlotte, and it would gain such disastrous momentum.

While I stood all alone to wash my hands
I noticed a lone paper sack.
It had no identifying brands,
And the top was neatly folded back.

Mmmmm! I hummed, as I wondered what to do.
Do I take a peek out of curiosity?
I still wouldn’t know who it belonged to,
But would that be important to me?

If people were as dedicated to his/her spouses, as some seem to be about their political party's candidates, our happiness quotient would be a hellava lot higher. Divorce rates would be down exponentially because the atmosphere on the home front would be embracing and joyous, instead of drudgingly accepted, or unacceptable but tolerated. And the political scene likely wouldn't be as volatile.

Mother Nature has many forms of paybacks,

It's not just twisters or hurricanes.

There're volcanos, earthquakes, and big damned cracks,

Does she want no one to remain?

As we got ready to leave the campground to begin meandering once again, we packed the outdoor stuff into the topper and hid the baggy of marijuana in a back far corner with some other items in one of the compartments for easy access from a side window. However, as I’d predicted, when we drove around Mexico seeing so many spectacular sights, Eddie forgot about his vow to smoke each night, not to mention his plans to throw the rest of the weed away before we crossed the border. In fact, we both had completely put it out of our minds.

As we grew older, school friends scattered,

Promises to stay close no longer mattered,

‘Cause, I was the first one to move.

With that distance we grew apart and changed,

Our thoughts, perceptions, directions that ranged,

From marriage, college with career, or both.

This poem is about class reunions.

The first one, which everyone expects to be fun ones,

Often will come across as being dum-ones,

When some try too hard to impress.

The second one is sometimes sparsely attended,

‘Cause of how the last one ended,

When many used pills for impressions intended

While showing off thrills and frills.

I was spawned, one stormy day,

When my mother decided to play

Somewhere along Tornado Alley.

She bumped into my dad,

Spawned me, and I was glad,

And they gave me the name of Sally.

We left the tropics at the end of March,

Lush greenness embedded in our minds.

The swaying palms and the flowering shrubs

Showing colors of all kinds.

As we traveled north the colors changed,

From Kelly Green to Forest.

Higher elevations brought changes as we drove,

We began seeing branches at their barest.

The Howler Monkey, how they cry!

With their screaming growls racing through the sky,

Like a charge from the light brigade.

The sound is very loud,

And they seem pretty proud,

Of the fact that they can be heard for miles.

We have two friends who are always ready to help,

Whenever they are needed.

Knowledgeable and direction oriented,

Their advice is always heeded.

They work tirelessly and endlessly,

Until the work is done.

And my trying to keep up with their amazing pace,

Is a battle I have not won.

It’s early Sunday morning. I am alone on my porch at my house because my husband is traveling and won’t be back for two more days.

It’s very still out here. The village we live in has not awakened.

We hopped in our golf cart and went for a ride.

Decided to see the sea since it was high tide.

When we arrived, it was windy as heck,

Which did keep the skeeters from nibbling my neck.

We brought cocktails for our beachside happy hour,

And a bowl of popcorn that we could devour.

But when we started eating our buttery delights

Before getting to our mouths, the corn took off in flight.

Some friends walked by our garden gate and stopped to exclaim,

“Come look at this spider’s web!” Their tone had no disdain.

A fascinating spectacle, of that, there was no doubt.

The spider had made a great big edge and began to fill it out.

Traveling with our RV in 2004, we found PaaMul, which was an RV park in the state of Quintana Roo, Mexico. It was located south of Playa del Carmen, a small beach town that catered to tourists on the Caribbean coast of the Yucatan Peninsula. We were looking for a place to camp that would have access to a dive shop, and PaaMul fit those needs.

Ah, the chirrups, tweets, whistles, and trills,

Which come from such tiny little bills,

That I hear each morn when I arise

The musical conversations I apprize,

And value each, and every note.

I saw a man running, early New Year’s Day.

I grinned at his determination,

to start his goals with intention,

But wondered if they would continue ‘til May.

The problems with resolutions are not the intent.

It’s when we let life get in the way

to slow down our resolve to pay

For those sins we fall back on to vent.

Mistletoe = kissing. That's how I associate the parasitic plant that is oftentimes hung above a doorway during the holidays. But what is the true history of it? Research told me that there were several theories about how mistletoe became associated with kissing.