"Transporting a Dream" by Old Poet MK, brought back to mind an episode when I was in my 20’s, and working in an insurance office in San Diego with a night job as a waitress at a Beatnik Coffee House.  I was in love with a wandering folk singer who had left to perform at a club in Oklahoma City and I missed him terribly.
He called late one Friday night and said why not come there and drive back to California with him.  At first I told myself all the reasons it would be impossible. Then my heart told me I had to find a way to do it.  I called my supervisor and told a fib about my mom being sick and I had to fly to Washington State for a few days.
I emptied my piggy bank and the tip jar from my coffeehouse night job, but I didn't have enough for the ticket. I did have a series E savings bond tucked away, but nowhere to cash it in on a Friday night. This was long before we had computers and cell phones, so I had only my land line to help me.  
I called Greyhound and got their schedule and all the stops they made along the way to Oklahoma City.
As it happened they had a 20 minute rest stop in Mesa, Arizona at 10:15 AM. which was about as far as my gathered money would buy a ticket for. Good enough!  I grabbed some clothes and my E-Bond and raced to the bus depot. I gave them all my money, much of it in coins, and bought a ticket for Mesa. Soon the bus was loaded and I settled in as we rolled on through the night.  Too excited to sleep, I wrote several poems along the way.  When we got to Mesa for the rest stop the next morning I leaped off the bus and flew into a nearby bank (Talk about miracles - it was just across the street from the depot ) I pleaded with them to cash my Savings Bond so I could continue on. The handsome teller listened to my story and then called the bank manager over to hear it as well. That was the day I learned that very pretty girls can do things ordinary folk might never manage.  Without knowing me or really checking out my ID, the bank manager and handsome teller actually cashed my savings bond for me.
Had they not done that I would have been stranded alone and penniless in a strange city.  Only the confidence of youth and beauty could lead someone into a situation like that.
I raced back to the bus as it was loading again and bought my way on to Oklahoma City. I wrote more verse as I looked out the bus window on the way. Some of it very good.
There was tragedy though. I filled one little notebook with  poems and was well into a second one when it came time to change busses.  I somehow left the first notebook on the bus as I got off and didn’t realize it until well away on the second one. I was heartbroken. All I could do was write a sad poem about lost poetry - which I did.
When I arrived in Oklahoma City I was met with love, music and wonderful moments.
The drive back to LA. was exciting and romantic as we stopped to admire the scenery and take photos of each other.
What an exciting escapade that was. The folksinger was a lovely period in my life, filled with other adventures and Whippet dogs, but alas, not permanent. The relationship didn’t endure past two years, but the love of Folk music and Whippets did.

Twenty five years later a similar adventure on a bigger scale befell me, but that’s a story for another time.
LJM

Waves of depression
That have no linkage
To the phases of the  moon
Ebb and surge
In a rhythm that confounds
The metronome by which
I calculate my moods
And face the horrors
That bedeck my daily life.

Winds of malaise
Appear from nowhere
On an otherwise
Still day
And rile the curtains
That protect
My fragile fabrications
From the vicissitudes
Of living on.

Claps of thunder
Rattle all the windows
Where I cower
In my futile hopes the rain
That they portend
Will not become a flood
And wash away
All the tiny flowers
That my hope has planted
In the dreary garden of my life.
ljm

My words keep bumping into yours
And having to stop to wipe a tear.
My thoughts tiptoe sadly over
Moments shared in brief exchange.

Fellow traveler on a highway
Crowded with ideas and dreams
We touched hands briefly now and then
And warmth became the bow that tied us.

Every path has many turnings,
Some of them with no way back.
But still the memory of touching
Warms the heart that’s left behind.

Travel on to other vistas
You’ve left behind a monument
That will shine as long as eyes
Enjoy the worlds that you created.
ljm

On the day I come unglued
And finally slip away
I hope the sky is freshly blue
Without a wisp of gray.

At the moment when my concert ends
And the final note is sung
I  hope I am with caring friends
And no black crepe’s been hung.

I want to simply disappear
To mingle with the wind.
I hope I sense when time is near
To bring things to an end

I’d hate to leave in gloom and rain
And hate it more in snow.
I do not want to cause more pain
Because It’s stormy when I go.
                                        ljm

A low-flying squadron of Mourning Doves
Swooped over the neighbor’s ten-foot wall
And strafed me with their grace and beauty
                                            ljm

When everything is monetized
And only tears are free
I think it’s time we realized
That’s not how life should be.

When you post your life on line
In hopes of earning cash
It should become a flashing sign
That it will one day crash.

Important things will fade away
In the rush to make a buck
Your only purpose every day,
To have financial luck

You’ll conjure up click-worthy memes
And pay no mind that they’re not real
That nothing’s really as it seems
As long as it’s part of the deal.

The boom will fall, that’s how it goes
And you’ll be left out in the rain
To learn what everybody knows
The lust for loot just causes pain.
                 ljm