WHATS IN A NAME?

by LaRue Watts

If Lollobrigida was the name
That gave us doubt for marquee fame,
I think she's finally met her match
With Benedict Cumberbatch.

CORBIN, KANSAS

by LaRue Watts

I grew up in a small town
And wouldn't change a thing.
My childhood never got me down
But made my small heart sing.
On Sundays, when are heads were bowed
We dreamed of heaven's riches.
On rainy days we were allowed
To splash in muddy ditches.
We rode our bikes to school each day
And parked them by the slide.
At recess time we'd swing and play
Or seek the ones who'd hide.
No worries ever troubled us.
We thrived on neighbor's caring.
And so we never made a fuss
Or even lost our bearing.
It was a better day I guess.
I'm sure you had one, too,
Without a sign of sighs or stress
When everything was new?
Then all too soon, we meet some strife
And found ourselves with grief.
It all became a different life,
But it is my belief
That as we grow, our dues are paid
For small town life had worth.
Those Sunday dreams of riches made
It heaven, here on earth.

ADVICE

by LaRue Watts

I still recall  my mother's words while half-asleep I lay 
On cold and frosty mornings at the start of every day.
I use it as a mantra throughout my life so far.
It's really very simple and will show you who you are.
What are these words of wisdom?  What is this spoken line?
I wake and do what mother said.  I try to "Rise and shine."

IF

by LaRue Watts

If fireflies light the nighttime sky,
If hungry babies always cry,
If words are not a hurtful means
To taint, destroy and ruin dreams,
If men could live in peace at last,
Forgive and not relive the past,
If you and I could always know
That tides will ebb and tides will flow,
If lilacs bloom in every spring,
If newborn birds will take to wing,
If Autumn leaves can always fall,
If sailors hear the sirens call,
If love and God are always real,
If hate is nothing one will feel,
If, in our world, these things can stand,
There is no "if."  There's only "and."
And fireflies light the nighttime sky,
And hungry babies always cry.

TASTE

by LaRue Watts

I'm fond of pate,
And caviar, too
Though oysters, I say
Must be fried or in stew.
Escargot and squid,
I, now and then, want
And I'll flip my lid
For a crusty Croissant.
One time, in my youth
I even ate rabbit.
I've had a sweet tooth
And can't kick that habit.
For tart rhubarb pies
Or lemon meringue
I'm sated with sighs,
A slave to the tang.
Some crab with soft shells
Brings joy to my dreams
And I can hear bells
Over berries and cream.
But when I choose food
Coming into my mouth,
None murders my mood
Like that one from the south.
Okra.

EASTER EGGS

by LaRue Watts

While hunting for Easter eggs out in the wood,
I came upon children toiling.
Mid paints and brushes, there they stood,
With eggs in water, boiling.
As I observed what they could do
Within their neighborhood,
I knew the adage old was true...
That only the young dye good.

PAIN

by LaRue Watts

The aching knee, the throbbing joint,
The ankle, wrist; I get the point.
Reminders of my misspent youth?
Perhaps, perhaps, and yet, in truth,
These daily hurts do not compete
With what I felt when life was sweet.
When first love had me in its throws.
The world was mine but, heaven knows,
The good things often don't remain
And broken-hearted, I met pain.
I lost a love.  Alas!  Alack!
Now that old nemesis is back
With nothing left for me to gain.
No love, no more.  No, only pain.

A CAROL

by LaRue Watts

A child was born so long ago
To change the world we're told,
To end the wars and heal the hurt
And quell the killing cold.
But wars exist and pain remains
With winters seldom mild.
That child of snow
With far to go
Was surely Thursday's child,
Yet Thursday children have a way
Of reaching for a star
And Thursday children cannot stay
No matter where they are.
They have to move.  They have to see
How they can tame the wild.
God, give me strength that I may be
Forever, Thursday's child.

BOO

by LaRue Watts

Don had a fright on Halloween night
From ghosties and goblins and witches in flight.
The Doc said a stroke
Had caused him to croak
And never see Don's early light.
 

THE SQUIRREL

by LaRue Watts
 
Why does a squirrel cross the road
In front of the car I'm driving?
Perhaps he's heading for his abode
And late for his arriving?
I brake or swerve.  I always do.
I'm not a roadkill guy.
And, then, the next time, right on cue,
He's there when I drive by.
As fast as lightning in a flash,
I feel my heartbeat quicken.
He seems hell-bent to cause a crash.
This crossing squirrel's no chicken.
Why does a chicken cross the road?
Well, that's another story.
Perhaps her trip can but forbode
My squirrel's exploratory.
But if we really face the fact
Without much analyzing.
Their crossing is a simple act
Of nature....exercising.