self esteem is gold
like a family heirloom
pricing it is hard

I love to walk through cemeteries
reading all the stones.

Not the names so much
as the stories that are told.

I really like the old ones
where the live oaks grow.

And the dead lie in shaded
gardens planted all in rows.

Marble angels look towards heaven,
with weathered wings and robes.

stone cherubs represent nameless babies
from a hundred years ago.

Fine cut pillars of the hardest stone,
mark graves of rich men who died alone.

and in the farthest corners
the small cement stones.

barely readable names
of people no one knows.

But the soil is no worse
here than it is over there.

And the angel in the center
just pretends to cry.

Honestly, she doesn't care.

Mrs. Goddard
Looked like Mary Poppins
Always a smile on her face
Caring, Kindness Grace
I wanted to please her
By doing my best
Ace every test

“If At first  
You don’t succeed
Try Try again”

The reward
“To be a Study Buddy”
Help a friend do better
“A feather in your Cap”

We all wanted to be
The little engine that could
To always do good

“I can if I think I can”

Third grade was
A milestone
Our touch tone
It was the First time
Our voices were heard
Even the
Outlandish absurd

I wanted to
Come to school
To learn
“The Golden Rule”

Every morning
She smiled
Every inch
Every mile
She started
The class
With promise
We were beguiled
She had many sayings
Like Mary Poppins

“A spoon full of sugar
Helps the medicine go down
Is the most delightful way”

I still remember
“Silence is golden
So get rich quick”

We would settle in
Wiggling anxiously
In our chairs
Giggling without care
Soaking up
The happiness
In the  AIR
Glancing around
Anticipation giddy
Ready to get to
The nitty-gritty

It was a look
A glance
A waltz
A dance
An expression
Her finger
On her lips
She invited us…

“Are you ready?”
Every face, Smiled
“All right, Boys and Girls ”
“Put on your Thinking Caps”

Each eager child
Full grin smiles
One and all
Went through
The motions
Of putting on
Their Thinking Caps
Arms over the head
Adjusting it just right

She would ask
“Is it on
Good and tight”
We Readjusted our
Caps for good measure
Her face beaming
Smiling with pleasure

We saw our Cap
in our mind
By her
Design

That was the start
of  Our
Imagination
Time
Infatuation
Admiration
Appreciation
Nurtured
We grew
Sublime

We were all
Diamonds
In the rough
With years of
Refinement
We will shine
Sparkle glow
To perfection
Let our inside
Show

Don’t worry
About
Little chips
Imperfections
Polish and shine
Until
No detection

Five minutes
Seemed
Like Forever  

Seeing
the end In sight
Never

As we grew
We knew
Interminable
Time
Marched on

All we can do
Is wait
For what comes
Next

Inspired songs;
1) everything is beautiful 1970
By Ray Stevens

2) remember the days of the old school yard 1977
By Cat Stevens

3) teach your children well
By Crosby Stills Nash & Young 1970


BLT Webster’s word of the day challenge
May 27, 2025
Interminable
Things that have or seem to have no end, especially because they continue for a very long time.

We are fragile figures. Our pillows at the outskirts of paradise. Befriended by dreams, the mind begins to process the day in Kodachrome. Once it starts, there's no turning off the pictures. She lies beside me. She's reached paradoxical sleep. I'm still on the outside looking in.

Take me there. Beyond the eyelids, where the mind wanders each night. To where the seeds of disturbance must be resolved within us. Some are strengthened. Others desolve as mist. This is how we survive. Chemical fires burn, become tides of memory. Pass the torch of preservation. Keeping them warm and remembered.

A miraculous routine. Live together. Dream alone. Desolate. Magnificent. My eyes are at the moment the apparitions are shut away. My mind in this place, a stretched fabric. Yet, it's far from alone. In the cataloging of miles and years, I sense an odd fellowship cresting without limit. I thought I saw her smile in agreement from her side of sleep.

Slice where you live like pie
--this piece of heaven,
you and your cream-filled sky.

Cappuccino sweet-talk,
every dream includes a bit of sleep-walk,
the taste of last summer
floats belly-up in your cup.