“She toddled in the mighty Duck
And almost never was”
Whether by design or luck
Or maybe just because

Summertime in Tennessee
So scorching hot and dry
The family thought a swim could be
Relief so we would try

While swimming came so easy
For most of us that day
But Mom was water queasy
So on the bank she lay

My friend and I, we swam like fish
In the deep Duck River
A day that would make you wish
This fun could last forever

My baby sister was so small
She could barely walk
She toddled and then down would fall
And jabbered with her talk

So Dad had moved into the deep
That’s when I saw it well
My sister ran without a peep
Into the Duck she fell

Momma screamed and I just froze
And out of sight she went
The muddy Duck would now propose
Another life be spent

My Dad had sprung to action
On hearing of the scream
He dived as a reaction
Into the muddy stream
.
.
.
And many years would pass us by
She studied hard and long
Nothing was too tough to try
She never got it wrong

A Ph.D and drug design
She makes the pills you need
If you were really in a bind
And needed meds indeed

She plays piano and reads the books
And knows so much inside
She sews and cleans and then she cooks
With logic as her guide

Accomplishments on every level
Complete and tried and true
But humble, never would she revel
In all that she could do
.
.
.

He came back up and looked around
His eyes began to beg
He dived again and there he found
And grabbed her by the leg

Upside down he pulled her up
And water did pour out
And soon we heard her cry startup
Relief without a doubt
.
.
.

Remembering that day and so
A blessing to repay
That was sixty years ago
But feels like yesterday

I sometimes think of all the luck
That happened just because
“She toddled in the mighty Duck
And almost never was”

A life ill spent
Through no fault of my own,
But drowning
In a muddy well
Of confusion
And pain
And oblivion,
Obnoxious toxic stale fetor
Permeating every pore and inhalation
As people passed on by,
Stuck inside their own dazed state of busyness,
Unseeing, unknowing, unaware,
Until one had the grace
To stop and notice
The floundering and muffled cries for help
And reach out a hand,
Unnoticed at first,
Then wilfully ignored from deep
Feelings of unworthiness,
But their strength
tolerance
Steadfast manner
And the grace of God
Won through in the end,
Patiently reassuring time and time again
Their intention was true and honest,
They did care,
They could be trusted
To not let go,
The forged in stone connection could not be broken
By man or foe,
In spite of devilish attempts to the contrary,
So I reached out my hand
To grasp
This longed for beacon of hope,
Tentatively at first,
Fingertips brushing gently against each other, but
Slowly and surely,
Step by step,
Bit by bit,
Until the foregone conclusion,
And Phoenix like,
Though blind and bedraggled
With muddied feathers for sure,
I am risen from a well of melancholia and oblivion,
To the bright light of day,
Drinking in the hitherto unknown golden orb,
And breathing in the fragrant rose bloom
Of hope and emancipation.

Solo bird
Strayed in the
Ocean sky,
Prayed

Heaven sent
Vulture,
Appeared for rescue.