Dennis S. Martin's Blog, page 78

Rednecks, Hillbillies, Bumpkins and Hicks

Rednecks, hillbillies, bumpkins and hicks;

Bred in the country;

Raised in the sticks.

Laid back and on track

And hard to predict;

Skeptically wary

Of each little trick.

Badly maligned as slow-witted and thick;

Misunderstood and unknowingly slick;

Always be wary, and don't ever pick

On rednecks, hillbillies, bumpkins and hicks.

 

The Man with the Briefcase

Pin striped suit and power tie...

Patent leather shoes...

Wall Street Journal making sure

He keeps up on the news.

Sip of coffee and a pastry,

First meal of the day.

Little time for idle chatter

As he makes his way

From elevator to the board room,

Salutations brief...

From one problem to another,

No time for relief.

Making money is his forte,

Little time to care.

The man with the briefcase?

Beware.  Beware!

 

Sprinkles on My Ice Cream

I dearly love the theater,

Its' relief from daily strife.

A story played out on a stage,

Imitating life.

 

You never can be sure

Exactly what may happen next;

What bold surprises lie in store

Within the playwrights text.

 

And when the final curtain

Brings a satisfying end,

It's like sprinkles on my ice cream,

And life is good again.

 

The Quest

Perfection is a fleeting bird;

Never sitting still.

It knows no perch;

Builds no nest.

It has no shoes to fill.

 

Its greedy talon reaches out,

But holds no olive branch.

We try to capture its true worth,

But there is little chance.

 

No matter how we strive or strain

Or just how close it seems,

Perfection only dwells within

The sanctum of our dreams.

 

Lifestyles

Lifestyles vary from one to another.

They spring from the lessons we're taught.

Some are determined from date of conception,

While some are acquired through default.

 

Whether we're living the posh life of leisure

Or struggling to make ends meet,

We all can relish in life's little victories

And cry when we're faced with defeat.

 

So, whether your lifestyle is princely or pauper,

You need not be filled with dismay.

Each moment in life can be filled with adventure.

Each lifestyle, in turn, finds its way.

 

Sports- The Games We Play

Humans love to play their games.

They make it such a sport.

Every contest bred from which

A winner may extort

A victory for bragging rights;

A trophy to display;

A memory of triumph

In the games they choose to play.

 

Football, baseball, rugby, soccer, hockey and lacrosse,

Basketball, volleyball, badminton, motocross.

Jai lai, sculling, skiing, skating,

Boxing or gymnastics.

Swimming, diving, racing, running

All can be fantastic.

 

Just remember in your quest

To reach that hall of fame,

When everything is said and done,

In sports, it's just a game.

 

Feeding the Squirrel

She comes around through habit;

Making rounds; each one in turn.

Traveling an old familiar circuit,

She has learned

Each yard and door she can depend on

For a handout every day.

She gathers nuts and acorns

As she goes along the way.

Some are nibbled.

Some are buried

With a tender care

In a secret hiding place

She doesn't want to share.

She leaps and hops and shakes her fluffy tail

As it unfurls.

Could there be a more amusing creature

Than a squirrel?

 

Lilting Laughter

Cheery little laugh that brings a sparkle to the eye,

Tickling the heart with feathered fronds.

No concerns or worries, no regrets, no alibi.

Thinking only of the moment;

Not what lies beyond.

Laughter is a subtle witness to the here and now;

Capturing a slice of space and time.

Observing all the humor in the what and where and how,

Attesting to the irony contained within a rhyme.

 

How often has a spirit low

Been lifted out of gloom

By the sound of lilting laughter

As it filters through the room?

 

Forgive and Forget

Most will forgive,

But few will forget

When their ire is inspired to arise.

That wrinkle of gray

Placed deep in the brain

Is implanted forever. It shows in our eyes.

 

The soul is reflective in kindness and means.

It leans toward benevolent trends.

But the mind in its memory

Doesn't forget;

Like a cut where the scar never mends.

 

But it's the forgiving

That bodes in importance.

Without it we dwell in regret.

But if we forgive;

If we truly forgive,

We don't really need to forget.

 

Devil's Advocate

Someone has to keep things honest.

Someone needs to play the role.

Traveling along life's highway,

Someone has to pay the toll.

Even though we lay a plan,

Carefully considering

Every little puzzle piece and

Every problem that they bring,

Still someone must take the part of

Bringing up each caveat.

So, who will don the cloak of dread

And play the devil's advocate.