...don't look at me.

(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCXIII)


Too many years ago the talk to scale
Of "cell phones" owned but Blackb'rrys for intents,
And was a dream of yonder not all thence
Could realize, where the "cold war" swore the trail
To any future would be sans aught bail
'Cept freedom was derailed, the "commies" hence
Keen spies who'd access to our land lines, whence
The talk was of which speeches to avail?
They killed off Kenn'dy cuz he swore in tour
To tell us all, yea, ****** McCarthy too.
But that was 'fore my time. Now all that's poor,
I'll post online, to find me barred sans cue
Cuz wherefore, eh? Go "clear yer cache"?! We were
Such fools to cast off fears. LORD, I'll wait You.

15Mar25c

...as Thousand Island or even Russian Dressing.

(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCXI)


LIfe IS uncertain: eat dessert first'd hail
In fact where we've too little milk fr'intents,
And I am working in the kitchen. Whence,
A bit of milk he murmurs after (frail
As all excuses) is nigh bad, t'avail
Us two of Oreos, where Reubens hence
Are on the docket, nearly crafted thence,
Cuz I'll be busy on the clock sans bail.
My fingers burned from this grand project's tour
Of duty, turns out lo, yer parents knew
Jist how to make all things, and you in poor
'Scuse never kin match up. All that I do
Does not taste half as good as theirs. What were
We 'sposed to do in their shoes? Wait on You.

15Mar25a

...know: t'was from You.

(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCX)


How lo, a black-capped chick'-dee's call frae thence
(Sweet mem'ries) lilts as I walk down the trail
In foreign wastes where such joys rarely hail,
Aye haunts the twa blocks to my car, a sense
Of former games in tow, likeas defense,
Til I recall years 'go when t'would avail
My soul sae close at hand, where that detail
Of apricot trees and home were all. Whence?
Forsooth.  I swear I saw him day 'fore, were
They nigh likeas the sparrows, sitting, too,
In silence in the naked bush in tour
Outside my bedroom window. If that's true,
What should I know, oh LORD? The mem'ry'd stir
But I can't find that diary page. Where to???

14Mar25c

...meaning, when I'm half asleep I'm significantly tamer--but that's why you men forever tire women out anyway.

(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCIX)


The wafting scents of chicken 'long the trail,
Where I'm too sleepy yet, conspire from thence
To turn my stomach as I hasten hence
To work oernight, ne hunger 'longside, frail
As all the others eager to avail
Themselves of food or action, Friday's sense
Alive elsewhere than in my car fr'intents.
Besides, I've packed a lunch, should I want bail.
Three lanes of heavy traffic wane as t'were,
Their foolish sense of was't street racing? too
Much for this time, where's not my style in tour.
They pull 'longside and match my speed, then do
Not but fall back. My uniform? Is't poor
I'm thankful?LORD, be Thou my refuge: You.

14Mar25b

...yet wherefore?!

(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCVII)


Forget to watch the shadows as they trail
Across this sun-washed view, as if fr'intents
Too charmed with life, the page turned in a sense
Back,...or is't forward? Caught in which detail?
How can I know? Chagrined to find I fail
At all, or so it seems, resort to...whence?
Dost Thou, oh LORD, give me to see? For hence
Reminded oer and oer how I'd avail?!
I never was a grand soul, only her
Whom Thou wouldst ransom, all I have of You;
I'm but forgiv'n anon, and failing, poor
As all my protests and best efforts to
Be better than I am. Back here, bestir
In me to do Thy will, LORD, as I'd do.

13Mar25c
--By Dand

...like, what comes after this?!

(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCVI)


How is't? But having mulled (was't vain pretense?)
Returning to these 'scapes, work drags me, frail
And full of silly old complaints, t'avail
Right back to my old stomping grounds for sense,
Famil'ar sights and streets, where aught from hence
Half whispers that I know it too well, trail
And all likeas mine own in each detail,
Til I begin to wonder why? and, whence?
Last night I toyed with stuff frae years 'go fer
A spell because I could not sleep. Now too,
I'm back right where I used to be as t'were,
And wond'ring what I'm s'posed to learn anew
Or realize? I half love it too. Is't poor?
Oh LORD, til all of Thine hand. I wait You.

13Mar25b

...silly me.


(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCV)


Oh sunny warmth, I'm thankful to avail
Me of these tender hours where sparrows thence
Tease, and now I recall how last night scents
From bar-b-que would haunt mine exit, trail
Along, til in the pre-dawn darkness, frail
As aught 'scuse, how sich odours tempt fr'intents
Til I am making arguments for sense
T'unravel, as his comment last week'd hail.
He wished repeatedly for bar-b-que in tour,
A grill left out last night from neighbors who
Could thus avail themselves. Forget in poor
Reply the pulled pork whiskey'd tinge, as through
Thy mercies, LORD, I'm giv'n more hours. Bestir
In me to sing Thy praise, all, all of You.

13Mar25a

I do.


(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCXIV)


Where dawn is not, for rain whose last detail
Is threat'ning snow, grind coffee like erst, whence
Fresh Thompson's Irish Tea in lo, what thence?:
A well-worn Barry's mug, and joe t'avail,
Both with a dash of half-n-half to scale,
How snow late fills the air with white for sense,
As forecast, and I dearly hope from hence
That March swears off such blankets and owns bail.
A blackbird wanders nigh til, how in tour
The plover cries. Geese next, he calls 'gain to
Distract me, and by afternoon tis pure
Spring wetness all 'round. Puddles blankly view
Whate'er is nigh and naught else seems astir.
I put the Scriptures on...LORD, save us too.

16Mar25a

...you know?


(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCIV)


The card'nal's voice from naked trees I thence
Reply to in his style, like that detail
Of courtship is a game? How plovers hail
Now after dark, keen mem'ries of Mum hence
In tow, cuz that's when I saw them fr'intents,
On her last walk with me, like that t'avail
Is no more from lo, Col'rado, the trail
To yonder is't? within their call for sense?
As if they call unto my soul in tour,
Oh LORD, I hear, yet what's anon to do?
My brother texts 'bout tuna salad--her
Um rec'pe, and we realize thereby too
That she ne'er wrote it down. Remember fer
Him, and he says it sounds right, LORD, of You.

12Mar25c

Howdya like that?


(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCIII)


In Elgin over twenty years to scale,
Yet not in Scotland, Illinois as thence
Where I was born, and now like for intents
I live in Bolingbrook, yet not t'avail
In Munster Ireland, but lo, that detail
Of Lincoln's Land, again. What is it hence?
My father's house is Gordon, thus for sense
By Dand in all, and in my blood, like bail.
Is't by mere chance I drink tea, Barry's fer
All that?! Grew up on porridge like twas due,
And bagpipe strains more rarely, was that poor?
The prairies in my youth where skies so blue
Were all we knew, and longhorn too, bestir
In us to seek Thy face, LORD, and wait You.

12Mar25b