Senior Musings

As I lay here a yawning
A bright new day is dawning,
I really should ge up and greet the day,
But I am fairly certain
If someone would draw the curtain
I could greet the morn right where I lay.

Norma Hueth

Norma Hueth

Although she's now past eighty
She's still a foxy lady,
Walks with a light and graceful air.
Time has dealt her well.
Just look and you can tell.
She still maintains the color of her hair.

She's as cute as any bug,
She has warmth in her hug.
She's a ray of sunshine in your life.
I know this doesn't cover,
Just show her that you love her,
Bet Lloyd is glad he chose her for his wife.

Martha

by Karl Jansen 01/2011

Martha and I go back to a time long ago.
How far back my memory will take me, i don't really know.
I remember I was a sickly kid,
but Martha took care of me no matter what I did.

She always had a positive outlook.
She liked a fun life, whatever it took.
In her second grade, Jack hung her in a tree.
The rope wasn't really around her neck where it seemed to be.

I don't think Mother thought that was okay,
It was probably the reason her hair turned gray.
That same year we found a squirrel trapped in a tree.
Jack said, "Pull it out!" I said, "Not me!"

Martha reached in, she was always game,
She said, "I got him!" and out he came
Along with bit fingers and a scratched-up arm.
That's the fun of living on a Kansas farm.

She weathered the trip out to Idaho
She was at the wrong age, looking back I know.
So crowded together, no private place
A girl her age needed her own space.

In Idaho she really did shine
I was always proud she was a sister of mine.
She was voted most popular and best dancer too.
She sang in a trio, a fun thing to do.

She married a fellow, the love of her life
And settled down being a working man's wife.
He was whisked off to war. She held down the fort.
Nothing seemed to faze her, she was just that sort.

Her family grew on his return, and
She was living the life we all hope to earn.
Then tragedy struck and Bill was taken.
I can only imagine how her life was shaken

She pulled it together, lived life day to day,
A driving force, it was her way.
She married again, her life wasn't through.
Now with Harry there were fun things to do--

camping and fishing and hunting too,
card playing with friends, what else can we do?
Her family has grown, quite well I should shout--
they cover half the county and are still branching out.

They clustered around her, held her close in their heart
Making her life easier till the time they would part.
I'm sure Martha is happy to get her release.
The stress is over. She is all wrapped in peace.

Chuckie by Karen Brockway

Chuckie 07-2009

I love my little brother

though it's taken sixty years

It must have been my teasing

'bout those glasses and those ears

He's wreaked revenge upon me

it wasn't undeserved

I've always felt it was his fault

for being such a nerd

(I mean LOOK at that yearbook photo!

Case dismissed!)

He paid me back in punches

my arms were purple kissed

bear hugs that squeezed your life breath out

he'd grin, "Nice to see you, sis."

Feeling good in that new hair-do?

"What HAPPENED to your hair?"

Proud of that mosaic pot?

"You missed a spot right there."

But one day engine oil appeared

in the gas tank of my mower

Blue smoke filled my backyard like fog

and who drove all the way over?

Without complaining, I might add

but I know he felt the glory

regaling clerks at the parts store

with his hilarious sister story

And even though he'll rip this ode

with heartless literary criticism

at my poetry reading he and Lynn

showed up to sit and listen.

My brother still looks youthful

and he's mellowing with age

but hopefully he'll keep his edge--

some things should never change.
~Karen Brockway

The First Hole

Tee it up, check the height,
check the wind,do it right.
I really want a good hit for a start.

Check my grip and my stance,
don't leave anything to chance.
I know this is the easy part.

It's going straight towards the green,
thats the best I've ever seen.
Didn't know that i could golf that good.

Hit the next one fat, caused a popper
not very far, a little hopper.
Didn't go where I thought it should.

I just love these little chips,
son-of-a-gun, I got the yips
didn't go very near the cup.

Need a putt that's soft and easy,
but my stomach's getting queasy,
keep going ball, shucks, it just gave up.

Lined up the putt with practiced eye.
it looked in as it went by.
It was really close, but no cigar.

Well, two more putts and now its in.
Really seems a mortal sin,
to settle for a bogie on this little three par.

~Karl W. Jansen 1/9/09

(and one week later - an explanation)

That golf poem Mother sent to everyone
I wrote just to have a lttle fun.
I expected a sharp retort
I made a travesty of a royal sport,
I led you down the primrose path.
Read it again and do the math.
I might tell a little lie to the unwary
If to make me look good, I felt it necessary.

Thanks To The Jansens! 1978 or 79

Did the motor home going to California have a crowd?
Did the people sit in doleful silence or were they loud?
Did the motor purr at 55?
Were we happy and alive?
Was the fun we had enough to make us flip?
Then thank the California Jansens for the trip.

Was the food we had there just really super fine?
Didn't Bob say he would make the old sun shine?
Did we have some super host?
Did they treat us to the most?

Would the time go by at just too fast a clip?
Then thank the California Jansens for the trip

Did Bob and Dot make you feel they liked you there?
Did Pete and Edie make you shed your every care?
Wasn't the pool nice and warm?
We didn't come to any harm.

Didn't they keep the good times rolling without a little slip?
Then thank the California Jansens for the trip.

Was this something we would like to do again?
Would their neighbors call the cops and do us in?
Were the pool games smooth as silk?
Were the drinks as tame as milk?
Was the weekend one you're glad you didn't skip?
Then thanks to the California Jansens for the trip.

My Dad by Karen Brockway

He slogs through muck
To hunt the geoduck
He's a golfing fool
And handy with a tool
He's always there
With a story to share
Gives my heart a tug
When he gives me a hug
He's my Dad
I'm glad

My Wife

She’s the one that I call Honey,
The reason for my happy life
She’s the mother of our children
My winsome, lithesome wife
She’s there when ere I need her
Waiting at my beck and call
She’s quick when I say dress up
She likes to have a ball
She likes her children happy
She’s their cushion when they fall
She’s my pretty loving honey
The sweetest one of all.

Untitled

It's time to get up a new day is dawning,
You've had enough of that tossing and yawning.
Now this day that's here may look pretty rough,
But you can do it and you don't have to be tough.
Just grab it at the top with both hands, that's right.
Now shake it out up and down with all of your might,
Then one final flick and lay it out flat.
Now what may I ask could be as easy as that.
It looks like the day is laid out like a map
Plotting our course should now be a snap.
We can visit some friends and just sit and talk
Or we can jog over here or just take a walk.
Just look at those trees, the hills and the sky,
I'm sure they were meant for just you and I.
Whether it's raining or a bright sunny day
Keep looking ahead and we won't lose our way.
Now lets see with all of this time on our hands
There must be something our life style demands.
We have to have a place to eat and to sleep
And for all of our belongings that we tend to keep.
Most have to work and that's really okay.
We all take pride in paying our way.
As we reach the evening part of our day
The sun sets so pretty then the light fades away.
The day has slipped by as quick as a wink.
We haven't had time to just sit and think.
We enjoy all the things that make life so nice,
But to get this we have to make some sacrifice.
The runner has blisters, the boxer has pain,
The old adage in life is no pain, no gain.
So all things that happen won't cause us to smile,
But the good we accomplish makes it all worthwhile.
So accept the hard things, enjoy the best.
Now lets go to sleep and get our rest.

THE MILLERS

I showed my knife to all my friends,
they were properly impressed.
If I don't have it with me,
I don't feel completely dressed.
It is good for removing slivers,
I could shave with it, I know.
When I trim my fingernails
I'd better do it slow.
I could perform an operation
On a person who was sick,
the handle wouldn't get slippery
It would really do the trick.
I won't use it to cut wire or
loosen screws that are too tight.
I will cherish and respect it,
I will always treat it right.
Lets hope when I am fishing
I won't make the same mistake,
of using it to clean a fish-
then throwing it in the lake.

(to the Norm Millers for Christmas knife of '95)