(from September, 2015)

An omen, a portent-
heralding the coming
of autumn and winter-
As Orion graces heaven's center stage

Mornings  become more crisp-
the aroma of fresh, hot coffee,
Permeating  from a cup on the patio table,
forces the senses to ask for more.

Fireplaces will send wisps of smoke
up their chimneys and over rooftops,
Adding to the exhilaration of knowing
that it's going to be a "good day."

If only the concrete could change colors-
as do the leaves.


copyright: richard riddle-September 11, 2015

Why do we laugh at 'cartoons,'
other than because they are funny

Is it the hopeless pursuance of...

catching a Tweetybird.....or
a Roadrunner.........or
Yosemite Sam outwitted by a rabbit....or
Michigan J. Frog singing "Hello My Baby!"

Think about it-
we are laughing at ourselves -
After all, it's their human traits and foibles
we gave them......that make us laugh.

"Blame it on Aesop, he started it!"


r. riddle: September 01, 2016

Its been a while since we've heard from Amber*


(Amber arrives home and greeted by her neighbor)

N: "Hi, Amber, been shopping?"
A: "No",(brushing hair off forehead) I'm taking a course on "religions" at
      Community College. Sat next to some old weird guy."

N: (To himself), "This has to be good."

A: "Well(brush-brush), I asked him what church he went to,
and he   just stared at me like it wasn't any of my business, then    
said he was a "septuagenarian". Is that some kind of a radical
cult?"
                                
N: "Yea, they're very militant", easily agitated."

A: "That's what I thought(brush-brush). I'm going to start carrying my stun gun."

N: (To himself)."I'm going to have start watching the news again."

Entering the room,
she does not see,
what the others see...
For she is...................

"Blind"........ unto herself"

Bringing light
to a darkened room
A presence...."Commanding"

not....."Demanding"

Unsel­fish -

Confident -

Respected -

Yet.........remains

"Blind".......unto herself"........

(You're going to be just fine!!)


r.riddle: 10-23-2016

GF: "It's not you, its me!"
BF: "You're right! It is you!
GF: "WHAAT!"


copyright: r. riddle 06-29-15

Women really don't want you to agree with them.

GF: "It's not you, its me!"
BF: "You're right! It is you!
GF: "WHAAT!"



copyright: r. riddle 06-29-15

(for Sandra)

Two circles
within a circle
rotating
opposite directions

Disengaged
they began to move
slowly
away from each other
unaware

then, strangely, toward each other

Fifty years
they traveled
unaware
before colliding

You and Me


r.riddle: 03-06-16
there is, of course, more to the story

It was an era in which we needed ......."heroes!" Those years preceding, during, and after WW II. The movie going public clamored for them.....and we got them! Those "cliffhanger" movie serials! 12 to 16 episodes, each averaging 12 to 15 minutes in length.Masked crusaders battling foreign agents....or..............the "mad scientist" who, in his laboratory, developed a contraption to melt mountains enabling him to rule the world....or just a crusader to protect the public from any villain bent to disrupt society as we knew it.
The science fiction heroes, Superman, Captain Marvel, Flash Gordon . Buck Rogers, "King" of the Rocketmen(there was only 'one) and  countless others.
All doomed to die, in some fashion, at the end of each episode, whether it being surrounded by villains, or in  a vehicle last seen rolling off the edge of a cliff with our hero trapped inside, unconscious and........ helpless........so we thought. And we returned, each week, to see how such a fate was averted. And, we loved them.
They enriched our pride, putting our country"first",  proving that "good..........conquered evil. We felt good about ourselves and.......


We still.........................can.......'united'

(Where are you when we need you!)

r.riddle: 12-11-2016

'Streaking lights'
Meteor shower

'Waves of colors'
Aurora Borealis

As if opening....
a new box of crayons.....

'Senses'....
Affected

Another.....
Migraine Headache!


r riddle: 8-23-2016

K: "Good morning, and Happy Father's Day!"
R: "Thank you! Hoping I would hear from you, and, before I forget, Happy Birthday to you, tomorrow!
K: "Time goes by fast, doesn't it."
R: "Yea, too fast."
K: "Are you doing okay?"
R: "Yes, but I miss you, wish you were here."
K: "I'm there, always will be."
R: "Yes. you will."
K: "Evan and Emily are really growing, look older than they are."
R: "Don't you know it. Evan is nearly 6'3" at 15 years old, Emily is 5"10, and only 12. Evan's getting ready for the upcoming hockey season,   not sure what Emily wants to do."
K: "In a few more months you will be 75."
R: "Don't remind me! At least, I've stopped growing!"
K: "That's funny! You could always make me laugh."
R: "Tried to, miss that!"
R: "Any new rumors floating around up there?"
K: "Nope, just watching, waiting to see what's going to happen, other than what has already been said by you know who."
R: "Guess He's the only one that knows."
K: "A very well-kept secret."
R: "I'm sure it is."
K: "Tell Russ, Mea, Evan and Emily 'high' for me, and that I love them and miss them."
R: "I will, and they know that. You take care, will talk to you later."
K: "Sounds good, love you, bye-bye!"


r.riddle: June 19, 2016

K: "Saw that you're still up, can't sleep?
R: "Noticed that, did you?"
K: "Is everything okay?"
R: "Yes, I'm fine. It happens occasionally."
K: "So, I noticed. I see where Russ, Mea, Evan and Emily went down to South Texas."
R: "Yea, sort of a "pre-back to school" trip for the kids. They'll be back Wednesday."
K: "How's your arm, healing okay?"
R: "It's fine, no complications. You don't miss a trick, do you?"
K: "Kind of hard not to from up here."
R: "I bet!"
K: "Just wanted to see how you are. Go to bed, you go back to work tonite!"
R: "Sounds like a plan! We'll talk again in a few days.
K: "Love you, miss you!" Good nite!
R: "Love you and miss you, too!" Good nite!

K:  "Hi, it's me."

R. "Hi, back. What's up?"

K. "Saw you asleep in your chair, again, you okay?'

R:  "Just trying to sneak in a nap before going to work."

K.  "I sense that something has been bothering you a little bit, something, about "pennies?

R: "Kinda, sorta. Strange coincidences, I guess you might say."

K: "Well, lay it on me."

R: "It's like the "Pennies from Heaven" story. You know the one. the Angels drop them to let you know that you're loved, and not forgotten, so they'll drop a penny where you'll find it while walking across the street, down the sidewalk, and so on."

K: "Sounds familiar."

R: "There's another slight version where a  loved one will do the same. Its happened to me rather often, going or coming out of the laundrymat or grocery store and being pretty sure it wasn't  there when I first arrived."

K. "How does it make you feel?

R: "A little perplexed at first, then a comfortable feeling, believing that you're still around and you're the one placing them for me to find. Sort of, like, sending a message. They aren't hidden,  just lying in wide open spaces, where anyone else could find them."

K. "Sounds like they're just for you and no one else, doing what they're meant to do. What do you do with them.?"

R: "I put them in a 'change jar' on the dresser."

K. "Just don't spend them. I know you have to get ready for work in a little bit, so go ahead and finish your nap, okay?"

R: "Okay. Talk to you later. Oh, by the way, thanks for the pennies!"

K: "You're welcome, and 'watch' where you're walking!"

Marriage Counselor: Do you often argue"

Wife: "Sometimes"

MC: "What kind of arguments do you have?"

Husband: "Are we talking about reasonable and intelligent discussions on differences of opinion, or when the neighbors turn off their tvs, grab their lawn chairs, come over and sit in your front yard."
                
MC: (To himself) "We're going to be here for a long time."


copyright: richard riddle, June 24, 2015

My wife, Karen, was an excellent cook.....
learned from her mother...
Who learned from her mother

My sister-in-law, Marcia, magnificent....
learned from her mother....
Who learned from her mother

My mother, Grace, exceptional...
especially, when it came to "pies."
Learned from her mother....
who learned from her mother....

Well, they had to learn the art from somewhere!

"Magicians in their kitchens", my father-in-law, Larry, often said, when Karen's mother started preparing a festive meal, especially for a holiday such as Christmas or New Year's. (She could prepare a Crown Roast so tender it could be cut with the blade of a toy rubber knife). All three had a common denominator that was learned from their mothers, our "Grandmothers." Very seldom did either of them use a measuring cup, or spoon.

A 'pinch' of this, a 'dash' of that! If the recipe called for a cup of milk, Karen's mother would tip that bottle of milk over the ***, count to "two", utter "that's about enough." If a recipe called for a cup of flour, my mother would extend her hand over the bowl, pour the flour into her hand, "that's about right," she'd say. The best apple, or peach pie, you ever tasted. "There's something missing", was Marcia's favorite statement, then reach into the pantry for "whatever."

Passed down from grandmothers, to mothers, to daughters, and to sons as well, we all knew that when we sat down at the table, for however long it would be, we would be in heaven. All because of........

"GRANDMOTHERS!"







.


.

The armies gathered on the vast expanse, poised for battle. Shields were raised, and the blades of their swords glistened in the morning sun. Led by the knights of  Arthur's table, they would be invincible, to fight for king and country..........so we thought. After all, it seemed like every country, mostly Normans and Saxons, wanted to kick Britain's ***.(and still do).

I was seven years old, as best I can remember. The 'vast expanse' was our backyard in that cul-de-sac in Corpus Christi, Texas, back in the 1940's. With 16 kids on that short block, it didn't take long to organize armies in order to re-enact the movie we saw earlier at the Saturday Morning Matinee at the then Ayers Theatre, whether it be about knights of the realm, or a Roy Rogers western.
Bless those days before televsion took its unyielding hold. A time when we could let our imaginations run rampant, making up our own scenarios, emulating our movie heroes, and there were many,  and most of all, "playing outside," something we don't see much of......... *anymore.
No one ever got hurt in those weekend battles. Of course, mom and dad, along with the other parents on that block kept the 'silent' watch on us, intervening only if they felt it was getting too loud or rough. I sit here, in my chair, recallng my dad saying, "At least, if we can hear them, we know where they are."

Our shields and swords were mostly made from poster and cardboard, sometimes rolled up newspapers.

copyright: r.riddle 11-17-2016

Dear Karen,
It is seven years this month when you left us.
I miss you everyday. In the car, seeing the passenger seat empty, but can still hear you telling me to slow down. When I see Russ and Mea, I smile, knowing that our grandchildren, Evan and Emily, would not be here if not for you.

Not long ago, at one of Evan's hockey games, I turned to Mea and said, "I hope Karen is watching this", for Evan(goalie) was playing exceptionally well. Mea put her hand on my shoulder, "she probably has a better seat than we do." I don't doubt that at all. The same goes for Emily and her activities, whether it be soccer, basketball, softball, or who knows what else, I know that you keep that protective blanket around both of them. Yes, there will be scrapes, scratches, bumps, and bruises. perhaps a broken bone. But when the game calls for a "clutch" player, is when the power of the angel, you, leaves the bench, strengthening the confidence of all the players, not just one, or two, but all. Like all things mortal, sometimes they win, sometimes they lose. But most of all, they learn. A most important result.

Love you, and miss you!

Richard

copyright: richardriddle 01-07-2015

Dear Karen


Dear Karen,
It is seven years this month when you left us.
I miss you everyday. In the car, seeing the passenger seat empty, but can still hear you telling me to slow down. When I see Russ and Mea, I smile, knowing that our grandchildren, Evan and Emily, would not be here if not for you.

Not long ago, at one of Evan's hockey games, I turned to Mea and said, "I hope Karen is watching this", for Evan(goalie) was playing exceptionally well. Mea put her hand on my shoulder, "she probably has a better seat than we do." I don't doubt that at all. The same goes for Emily and her activities, whether it be soccer, basketball, softball, or who knows what else, I know that you keep that protective blanket around both of them. Yes, there will be scrapes, scratches, bumps, and bruises. perhaps a broken bone. But when the game calls for a "clutch" player, is when the power of the angel, you, leaves the bench, strengthening the confidence of all the players, not just one, or two, but all. Like all things mortal, sometimes they win, sometimes they lose. But most of all, they learn. A most important result.

Love you, and miss you!

Richard

copyright: richardriddle 01-07-2015

He's old-
time-worn
tired

Has seen
many places -
many countries

If only he could talk-

Opinions would be bountiful
recalling adventures - delightful

My literary friend-
my notebook


r.riddle 01-30-2017

1. A woman will take a shopping list to the grocery store, and come back with what is on the list.

#2. A wife asks her husband to stop on his way home and get some milk and eggs. He will return with a dozen items, none of which will be the milk and eggs.

They were emblematic of the times, those park benches. Carefully placed among the trees in front of the courthouse, some aligning with the concrete walkway leading up to the front doors.
Come mid-morning, they would begin to arrive, those "old timers." Taking what appeared to be their "favorite bench in their favorite place', as if it were assigned seating. They had been gathering for a long time, many on a first name basis with lawyers, judges, clerks, peace officers.
Most were veterans of the military, serving in World War II, and Korea. One was a veteran of World War I, which history called "The Great War." One had served with the French Foreign Legion, another a constable in the Yukon Territory of Canada. They were mesmerizing with their endless library of stories.
Several years ago, in a newspaper column, I read this quote, origin unknown: "When an elderly person dies, a history book is lost." That could not be more true. My wife, Karen, for several years worked at at a retirement facility. She would often, and intentionally, begin a  conversation with the residents to get them talking about their experiences. She described how their eyes would "light up" when they would begin recalling events in their lives, people they had known, or related to, places where they had been, etc.  All because someone
showed an interest -
in them.

Do I need to say more?

copyright: richard riddle March 04, 2015

When my brother and I were kids, two or three times a year we would take a trip to visit our grandparents. Of course, there were aunts, uncles, and cousins who lived not too far away that would arrive as well. Their house had multiple bedrooms. After all, they reared seven children, so it was necessary. My brother and me were always given a bedroom on the first level.
I was always awakened around 5 a.m., with the sound of my grandfather's footsteps trudging down the hallway like the giant in "Jack and the Beanstalk". I never could understand why elderly folks had to get up so darned early. Here I am, at 73. I now know why.

copyright :richard riddle-January 01, 2015

Early Rising


When my brother and I were kids, two or three times a year we would take a trip to visit our grandparents. Of course, there were aunts, uncles, and cousins who lived not too far away that would arrive as well. Their house had multiple bedrooms. After all, they reared seven children, so it was necessary. My brother and me were always given a bedroom on the first level.
I was always awakened around 5 a.m., with the sound of my grandfather's footsteps trudging down the hallway like the giant in "Jack and the Beanstalk". I never could understand why elderly folks had to get up so darned early. Here I am, at 73. I now know why.

copyright :richard riddle-January 01, 2015

FRACTIONS!
FRUSTRATION!!

NUMERATORS

DENOMINATORS

Homewo­rk
never stops*

NEVER WILL!
"Always Something!"

"Always Somebody" (who wants to complicate your life )

"teachers!"

r riddle 02-07-2016

(a non-partisan piece - the U S Presidential Election

The 'Ringmaster' approaches center stage. With mike in hand and toothy smile, it comes, "WE HAVE A WINNER!!" "TAH-DAH!!!"
Attorneys on both sides, all wearing new Nike track shoes, approach the mark, waiting for the 'pop' of the starting gun, ready to race to the Federal Courthouse to file hundreds of legal briefs challenging the legitimacy of the election results. Both sides accusing the other of 'voter fraud', and anything else they can throw into the blender.

"Sit back, folks, the finale is yet to come."

r. riddle: 11-08-16

(Composed by Billy Liebert; Recorded by John Wayne -1973)

Face the Flag of stars and bars,
Of red and white and blue,
A flag that guarantees the rights
For men like me and you.
Face the Flag, son! Read what's written there--
The history, the progress and the heritage we share.
Our flag relects the past, son, but stands for so much more,
And in this Age of Aquarius, it still flies in the fore.
It leads the forward movement, shared by all mankind,
To learn...to love...to live with peace of mind;
To learn the mysteries of space, as well as those of earth;
To love each man for what he is, regardless of his birth;
To live without the fear of reprisal for belief;
To ease the tensions of a world that cries out for relief.
Face the Flag of stars and bars,
Of red and white and blue,
A flag that guarantees the rights
For men like me and you.
Face the Flag, son! Take a good long look.
What you're seeing now can't be found in a history book.
It's the present and the future, son. It's being written now,
And you're the one to write it, but the flag can show you how.
Do you know what it stands for? What its makers meant?
To think...to speak...the privilege of dissent;
To think our leaders might be wrong...to stand and tell them so.
These are the things that other men under other flags will never know.
But responsibility...that's the cross that free men must bear,
And if you don't accept that, the freedom isn't there.
Face the Flag of stars and bars,
Of red and white and blue,
A flag that guarantees the rights
For men like me and you.
Face the Flag, son, and face reality.
Our strengths and our freedoms are based in unity.
The flag is but a symbol, son, of the world's greatest nation,
And as long as it keeps flying, there's cause for celebration.
So do what you've got to do, but always keep in mind,
A lot of people believe in peace...but there are the other kind.
If we want to keep these freedoms, we may have to fight again.
God forbid, but if we do, let's always fight to win,
For the fate of a loser is futile and it's bare:
No love, no peace...just misery and despair.

Reposted for  Sally, Sandy, and Stephanie. Three important ladies in my life.

Where is that inner child,
why did it depart-
And take with it the stories,
That were close unto your heart

From Mother Goose to Tennyson's
"Idyll's of the King",
folklore and fairy tales-
Of which the minstrels sing

Knights in shining armor,                  
atop their steeds of grace-
Protecting king and country
as they ride from place to place

There’s Jack and his stalk of beans,
“Lil Red and her hood-
Hansel, and his sister-
traips'n thru the wood

Rainbows and leprechauns,
elusive pots ‘o’ gold,
Oh, how many, many times have these
tales been told-

Fairies ‘neath the mushroom caps,
elves in their acorn hats,
Dancing 'neath the moon-ring light-
as fireflies flicker, to the “music
of the night”

And from the heavens, a horse appears-
adorned with wings of flight-
And from its head, a single horn-
the pure, and blessed, unicorn.

The minstrels, with their lutes and lyres-
amused the population-
But, could it be, these tales be true,
or just your imagination?

That inner child, it's still there
It hasn’t gone away-
It just needs to be awakened-
on perhaps, this very day*.


r.riddle December 18, 2010-Copyright

Written in 2010, first posted in December, 2013

Where is that inner child,
why did it depart-
And take with it the stories,
That were close unto your heart

From Mother Goose to Tennyson's
"Idyll's of the King",
folklore and fairy tales-
Of which the minstrels sing

Knights in shining armor                            
atop their steeds of grace-
Protecting king and country
as they ride from place to place

There’s Jack and his stalk of beans,
“Lil Red and her hood-
Hansel, and his sister-
traips'n thru the wood

Rainbows and leprechauns,
elusive pots ‘o’ gold,
Oh, how many, many times have these
tales been told-

Fairies ‘neath the mushroom caps,
elves in their acorn hats,
Dancing 'neath the moon-ring light-
as fireflies flicker, to the “music
of the night”

And from the heavens, a horse appears-
adorned with wings of flight-
And from its head, a single horn-
the pure, and blessed, unicorn.

The minstrels, with their lutes and lyres-
amused the population-
But, could it be, these tales be true,
or just your imagination?

That inner child, it's still there
It hasn’t gone away-
It just needs to be awakened-
on perhaps, this very day.*


r.riddle December 18, 2010-Copyright

Where is that inner child,
why did it depart-
And take with it the stories,
That were close unto your heart

From Mother Goose to Tennyson's
"Idyll's of the King",
folklore and fairy tales-
Of which the minstrels sing

Knights in shining armor                            
atop their steeds of grace-
Protecting king and country
as they rode from place to place

There’s Jack and his stalk of beans,
“Lil Red and her hood-
Hansel, and his sister-
traips'n thru the wood

Rainbows and leprechauns,
elusive pots ‘o’ gold,
Oh, how many, many times have these
tales been told-

Fairies ‘neath the mushroom caps,
elves in their acorn hats,
Dancing 'neath the moon-ring light-
as fireflies flicker, to the “music
of the night”

And from the heavens, a horse appears-
adorned with wings of flight-
And from its head, a single horn-
the pure, and blessed, unicorn.

The minstrels, with their lutes and lyres-
amused the population-
But, could it be, these tales be true,
or just your imagination?

That inner child, it's still there
It hasn’t gone away-
It just needs to be awakened-
on perhaps, this very day.


r.riddle December 18, 2010-Copyright

Where is that inner child,
why did it depart-
And take with it the stories,
That were close unto your heart

From Mother Goose to Tennyson's
"Idyll's of the King",
folklore and fairy tales-
Of which the minstrels sing

Knights in shining armor                            
atop their steeds of grace-
Protecting king and country
as they ride from place to place

There’s Jack and his stalk of beans,
“Lil Red and her hood-
Hansel, and his sister-
traips'n thru the wood

Rainbows and leprechauns,
elusive pots ‘o’ gold,
Oh, how many, many times have these
tales been told-

Fairies ‘neath the mushroom caps,
elves in their acorn hats,
Dancing 'neath the moon-ring light-
as fireflies flicker, to the “music
of the night”

And from the heavens, a horse appears-
adorned with wings of flight-
And from its head, a single horn-
the pure, and blessed, unicorn.

The minstrels, with their lutes and lyres-
amused the population-
But, could it be, these tales be true,
or just your imagination?

That inner child, it's still there
It hasn’t gone away-
It just needs to be awakened-
on perhaps, this very day.*


r.riddle December 18, 2010-Copyright

Where is that inner child,
why did it depart-
And take with it the stories,
That were close unto your heart

From Mother Goose to Tennyson's
"Idyll's of the King",
folklore and fairy tales-
Of which the minstrels sing

Knights in shining armor                            
atop their steeds of grace-
Protecting king and country
as they ride from place to place

There’s Jack and his stalk of beans,
“Lil" Red and her hood-
Hansel, and his sister-
traips'n thru the wood

Rainbows and leprechauns,
elusive pots ‘o’ gold,
Oh, how many, many times have these
tales been told-

Fairies ‘neath the mushroom caps,
elves in their acorn hats,
Dancing 'neath the moon-ring light-
as fireflies flicker, to the “music of the night”

And from the heavens, a horse appears-
adorned with wings of flight-
And from its head, a single horn-
the pure, and blessed, Unicorn.

The minstrels, with their lutes and lyres-
amused the population-
But, could it be, these tales be true,
or just your imagination?

That inner child, it's still there
It hasn’t gone away-
It just needs to be awakened-
on perhaps, this very day*


r.riddle December 18, 2010-Copyright

To all of you on this "Poet's Train", and to those who have recently boarded, take your seats, grab your pens, and write us into 2015.

MERRY CHRISTMAS, AND HAVE A HAPPY HOLIDAY SEASON!

Richard Riddle

As I have stated before, my father, for twenty years was a game warden for what is now known as The Texas Wildlife Commission. He taught my brother and me a lot about hunting, fishing, and tracking, although I never developed a real liking for fish.
I was fourteen years old the first time he took me on a deer hunt near the south end of Texas' Yellowhouse Canyon, not too far outside of Lubbock, Texas. A rancher friend of dad's gave permission to hunt on his two hundred plus acres.
After about two hours of hiking we finally saw one, about one hundred and fifty yards from us.
Oh, how majestic he was, about an eight-point buck. Dad handed me the 30.06 rifle. Sitting on the ground, with my elbows braced against my knees, dad said, "take the shot when you're ready, but if you wait too long, he will run!"
After it was over, and packing the rifle in its case and closing the trunk lid of the car, dad put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Son, you did well!"  I never pulled the trigger. I yelled at that beautiful animal, and he took off as if he were shot out of a cannon.  You see, he posed no threat to me. Looking at him through the sight I realized that all he was wanting to do was survive.
I didn't want, or need, a hat rack.

In memory of "Cecil the Lion."

copyright: richard riddle-July 30, 2015

(Corpus Christi, Texas-circa 1947)
It's a short block, a cul-de-sac,
total of sixteen houses lining the street.
No sidewalks, the grass ends
where the curb begins.

A  lone palm tree stands in the southwest corner of the front yard.

There were no fences separating the properties
Driveways, leading to the separated garages were the markers.
That didn't stop us, however-
The neighborhood was a continuous playground.

Many families were military-
in the U S Navy,
Or civil service employees
at the Corpus Christi Naval Air Station

From those sixteen homes were twenty-three children-
some families had multiple children-
ranging from four to twelve..............I was six years old-
For the parents, finding peace and quiet
was only a dream

I learned to ride a bike on that street-
although learning how to stop it
was another issue.........
Had it not been for that lone palm tree.

I became very adept at timing-
knowing when to jump off that bike-
moments before impact-
Eventually, I learned what dad meant with
"USE THE BRAKES!"

A few bruises
some scrapes(arm or knee)
Nothing serious-
I survived!

As our parents aged, they often would reminisce about those days. Dad had two major philosophies about growing up: "Yards were made for kids to play in", and "If we can hear them, at least we know where they are!" Most of the time they were in our backyard playing on our swing and trapeze set that a family friend built for me and my brother. That yard was, basically, a "miniature park."  

Our mother was, what is termed now, a "stay at home mom." She was the "overseer, watchdog, and resident medic." At least two or three times a day, she answered the phone, only to hear another mother's voice asking if their kid was over there, and if so, tell him, or her, to go home.

While reminiscing, the one thing that our father, mother, and my brother agreed on is, "That was one hell of a sturdy bike!" I never will forget that palm tree. It saved my a_ _ more than once!!

Society has changed, Donna, you're absolutely right!!

copyright: richard riddle July 20, 2015
                   revised: July 21, 2015

"I am but the messenger,
'tis the writer these words belong,
a ten year old fair damsel,
a beauty, and a song."

copyright June-25-2014  richard riddle

"How do I love thee,
   let me count the ways

1,2,3,4,5.............10,11,12............................­.............!

There will always be someone who wants what you have, for its easier to steal from someone who has already performed the work, whether a material object, idea, or talent, etc.. Someone who takes credit, where it isn't due, for what you have accomplished, worked hard to attain, or saved for a special purchase. Hence, the PLAGIARIST!

The counterfeiters, whether it be money, or the reproduction of the "Old Masters" oil paintings, claiming it was purchased at a garage sale, or found in an old trunk in the attic of an old house they purchased. Many scenarios, many such events, and mostly untrue. Plain, and simple, they are nothing but "THIEVES." They have been around for thousands of years. Aggravating, yes! Frustrating, absolutely! Discouraging, you bet! The difficult part is knowing"they don't care!", as long as they get what you have, or think they can.

To my friends at HP: Regardless of whatever name they wish to use at the bottom of your piece, your signature is still inside the piece itself. Whether it be a particular phrase or word meticulously placed, the style of your writings, the way you approach your thought, the rhythmic flow of your prose, the softness or harshness of expression. All which has created "your signature". That, cannot be reproduced.

To those literary "thieves: You will continue to try and steal our work. But, for each letter stolen, for each word stolen, only creates another rung on your ladder, leading you deeper and deeper,further down into your abyss of loneliness, until the blanket of your depression, discontent, and hatred suffocates you. That is when your name will become known only as, "WHO?"

copyright: Richard Riddle September 08, 2014 10:00am(CDT)

Let's see, Emily turned twelve in February(2016), Evan turned fifteen about a week ago(March 2016), I will turn....okay, we can toss that one out the window. It does evoke memories however, memories that will never go away, at least I hope not.
New to this world, lying in your crib, looking up at me while changing your diaper, I could see  and almost hear the wheels in your head churning, as if saying, "So you're the dimwits that will be rearing me for the next several years, God help us!" And He did, has, and hopefully, will continue to do so with Evan and Emily. It was a new experience for us, a welcomed responsibility, and I think that Karen and I did a "pretty darned good job!"

We didn't do it alone.

Thank you Lord, for your guidance!

rriddle: 04-03-2016

My wife, Karen, looked out onto the patio, "why do they always come to us?", speaking of mama and her kits, newcomers they were, but apparently enjoying the food and shelter of this "safe house". Just some, of the many, that had blessed us over the years  with their magic , showing up unannounced, cats, dogs, raccoons, possum, to name a few. Some stayed, some left.

You see, it is our firm belief, that God's closed fist, with index finger extended and pointing downward, looming over our rooftop, wherever we happened to be, is a "guiding star"for them, and only the animals are capable of seeing it, telling them to "go here, for your safety, shelter, and food".

God has many such fingers, in every city, town, state, province, and country on this earth. Why, I would bet that right now, he has a cat(s) asleep on his lap, as a way of saying, "thank you, Lord, for helping all of us."

copyright May 18-2014 richard riddle

My wife, Karen, looked out onto the patio, "why do they always come to us?", speaking of mama and her kits, newcomers they were, but apparently enjoying the food and shelter of this "safe house". Just some, of the many, that had blessed us over the years  with their magic , showing up unannounced, cats, dogs, raccoons, possum, to name a few. Some stayed, some left.

You see, it is our firm belief, that God's closed fist, with index finger extended and pointing downward, looming over our rooftop, wherever we happened to be, is a "guiding star"for them, and only the animals are capable of seeing it, telling them to "go here, for your safety, shelter, and food".

God has many such fingers, in every city, town, state, province, and country on this earth. Why, I would bet that right now, he has a cat(s) asleep on his lap, their way of saying, "thank you, Lord, for helping all of us."

(Make a visit to your local ASPCA Shelter-Adopt an "Angel!)
copyright May 18-2014 richard riddle

My wife, Karen, looked out onto the patio, "why do they always come to us?", speaking of mama and her kits, newcomers they were, but apparently enjoying the food and shelter of this "safe house". Just some, of the many, that had blessed us over the years  with their magic , showing up unannounced, cats, dogs, raccoons, possum, to name a few. Some stayed, some left.

You see, it is our firm belief, that God's closed fist, with index finger extended and pointing downward, looming over our rooftop, wherever we happened to be, is a "guiding star"for them, and only the animals are capable of seeing it, telling them to "go here, for your safety, shelter, and food".

God has many such fingers, in every city, town, state, province, and country on this earth. Why, I would bet that right now, he has a cat(s) asleep on his lap, their way of saying, "thank you, Lord, for helping all of us."

(Make a visit to your local ASPCA Shelter-Adopt an "Angel!)
copyright May 18-2014 richard riddle

"Suddenly, there came a tapping, as if someone gently rapping........."

re: "The Raven", Edgar Allan Poe

You made a personal decision to leave HP, based on dissatisfaction with the abundance of certain language issues that have, in my opinion, saturated the site. I couldn't agree more with what you say, but is it enough to leave a site that has provided the majority with many enjoyable works.
I don't know just how old "The 'Ole Storyteller" is, it makes no difference. An enjoyable read is always an enjoyable read, and one that  is read multiple times. Writers like yourself are important to the site. They are the ones we respect, look up to, learn from. Your writes serve as an inspiration, not just to the newcomers trying to find their way, looking to create their own style, dabbling with many, but for all of us that want to do better, better than the last one, and the one before it, and so on.
Your writes, teach. What more can you ask. Yes, there will always be those that want to waller in misery, wanting everyone else to swim with them in their muck. Some feel it necessary to throw in a few four-letter words which add nothing, but succeed in ruining what could have been a very good write.
Come back "Ole Storyteller"! Show those that cause your discontent that you are above what seems to becoming the norm.
copyright: richard riddle January 14, 2015

In this era of casualness, there are four words that seem to be disappearing, going by the wayside, in our interactions with others. A shame it is, that we have started taking each other for granted. 'Four words',

Simply spoken

Heard seldom

"Thank you!"
"You're Welcome!"


richard riddle: 06-04-2016

"OVERWHELMED!", for lack of a better word. At 7:30am(CDT), my piece "For My HP Friends(response to Eliot York),  reached an altitude 5k 'reads/hits. Although the piece was penned in 2013, I mean every word written as I did then.
But, this isn't about me, it's about "you", all of the poets, writers, young/old, newcomers, and mainstays. It is for those who have passed away(God bless you), or have moved to another site(we hope you will return, at least I do.) It is for all who enjoy what we do, or think we do, best; writing about our deepest thoughts; what makes us laugh, what makes us cry, coping with adversity. It's about "living", learning of different cultures, visiting with words, places where we may never go, realizing that regardless of where we live, we are very much the same in thought and deed, discovering the common denominators between all of us. It's about "lending an ear", doing our best to comfort, strengthening a "family", which HP has developed overtime.
Without "YOU", this piece would never have never been written. Although my name is on it, it contains the  signatures of each and everyone of, "YOU!"
I will be forever, grateful.

Richard Riddle, February 07, 2016

PLEASE DON'T READ THIS!