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To write,
What you feel
And to feel
What you write
Is the feeling
When you feel truly right
Inspired
:) yes, it’s right
!!!
Dreamt
a dream with childish eyes,
Burnt in the belly the flame of patriotic fire,
Decided to become a soldier and dedicate my love to my land.
The promise I made,
I cherished, I fulfilled.

Imparted soldiers duty filled with passion,
For my motherland,
My heart was filled with proud and patriotism,

Promise to die for my motherland held above all.
Today proudly,
I am enfolded in tricolor of my country..
For my last journey,
For my final abode.

Dream outlived me.
I will be born again to serve my motherland.


Sparkle In Wisdom
27 Feb 2019
Salute soldiers of our motherland.
Gas, yes, but we need more products than that
For the Great American Road: check the water,
And check the oil, check the number of kids
Fighting with each other in the back seat

Select some Eagles tunes and fuel them too
Into the six-layer CD machine -
Let’s bust out of Texas and head for Horse Springs
Which isn’t there anymore, but Magdalena is

And they’ve got twenty-seven radio telescopes
Out on the plains to fuel our dreams and hopes
Your ‘umble scrivener’s site is:
Reactionarydrivel.blogspot.com.
It’s not at all reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.

Lawrence Hall’s vanity publications are available on amazon.com as Kindle and on bits of dead tree:  The Road to Magdalena, Paleo-Hippies at Work and Play, Lady with a Dead Turtle, Don’t Forget Your Shoes and Grapes, Coffee and a Dead Alligator to Go, and Dispatches from the Colonial Office.
 Feb 2019 sunprincess
Lily
“Mommy, why is the moon running away from us?”

A sigh from the front seat,
The wheels bouncing on the Michigan potholes.

“Honey, it’s not running away, it just appears to move with us.”

A moment of silence, except for the soft hum of the engine.

“But why, Mommy?”

A slight groan from the front seat as a speeding car passes.

“I don’t know, our eyes are just messed up, I guess.”

Bouncing pigtails from the toddler car seat, humming her song.

“Mommy, are we almost there?  I’m scared that the moon will catch up with us.”

“I thought we were chasing the moon.”

“But now it looks like it’s chasing us.”

Trembling hands grip the steering wheel tighter, knuckles white.

“I’m excited to see Daddy.  Are you, Mommy?”

“Don’t call him that.”

Her voice was dangerously low, almost the same pitch as the hum of the road.

More pigtail bouncing.

“But he is my dad, right?”

Pursed lips and clenched teeth.

“Yes.  Just try to be nice.”

“Are you talking to yourself, Mommy?”

Attention taken from the road, eyes wandering up to the moon.

“Mommy, why are we running away from the moon again?”

A sigh from the front seat,
The wheels bouncing on the Michigan potholes.

“I don’t know, we’re all just messed up, I guess.”
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