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Ithaca  Dec 2019
The Frozen River
Ithaca Dec 2019
A subtle wind gently eased wild hair from his smiling eyes; the faintest hint of her essence hugged his comfy winter coat.

Not a mile to the East, the same breeze drifted wearily towards a lonely house near a sparkling frozen river.

There, kneeling at the edge of the water, a beautiful girl felt a subtle breeze gently caress her shiny blonde hair.

The young maiden breathed in as the wind continued to brush past her shoulders. She exhaled with a giggle and a blush.

This extravagant December morning, the sun rose in lavish style over the snow-bleached horizon.

The lad had worked as a paper boy in this cozy town for a little over a year, and the morning before, he had spotted the most gorgeous girl kneeling by a riverbed.

The young boy nearly broke his bicycle, he kicked the brakes with such force. He sat with open mouth and marveled at such a sight.

The girl saw the boy out of the corner of her right eye, and shifted a little in a knowing manner.

The smitten lad turned a shade of red that would make the Devil jealous, and tried to call out to this beauty. His voice failed him.

Feeling the attraction radiating from the boy, the lass arose gracefully and walked towards him.

The shocked boy seemed to forget how to walk for an instant. He fell flat on his face. He heard a hearty giggle, and though he thought himself a total klutz, he began to laugh at himself, with each breath ingesting cold, wet snow.

“Saylor”, said the girl, offering a hand up for the boy.

“Titan”, the boy replied, taking her hand. Laughing seemed to restore his confidence.

“Sorry for staring” Titan said apologetically. “I’m sure you get that a lot”.

Little did young Titan know, Saylor had been watching him every morning for weeks. Through the dining room window, she would watch as he would throw the paper towards her house, and pedal over the bridge leading into town.

“Don’t apologize” Saylor remarked. “You should come back tonight. It’s been a while since I’ve laughed like that.”

Not knowing exactly what she meant by that, and also not wanting to make himself look like a complete invalid by asking, Titan got back on his bike with a smile as grand as his elaborate fantasies of the night to come.
Please let me know if you would like a continuation :)
And if you’re wondering about the names, the answer is yes.
Irene S  Feb 2010
Headache
Irene S Feb 2010
Dear Headache,

I see you're back again,
like you think that I'm your friend.
Like you think I enjoy your company.
Well, let me tell ya somethin', honey.
You need to go the **** away,
and don't come back another day.
The only time I let you in,
You're my excuse to eat a Vicodin.

No love,
Irene Saylor
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                                  Are We All Prisoners of War?

My great-grandfather was a tailor, they say
Stern of mien, impeccable in his dress
I have one picture of him, from 1912
White-bearded, thin, resting on the family porch

My great-grandfather was made a prisoner of war
At Sailor’s Creek, for he had found the wrong side
And the government found his children for other wars
The Aisne in 1918, Zwickau in 1945, the Vam Co Tay in 1970

There are few tailors now, but lots of soldiers -
Maybe we are all prisoners of war

Cf. Sailor’s Creek / Sayler’s Creek / Saylor’s Creek, 6 April 1865.
Sailor's Creek. And I'm all for a cease-fire HERE.

— The End —