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As I begin another desultory day
In what will be the rest of my life
I search for a metaphoric nail
On which to hang my tattered hat of hope.

Some pile of needs disguised as leaves
That need for me to rake them up
And leave the yard a little better
Than it would have been before.

I look around and hope to see
Something more than yesterday
Reflected in the nimbus clouds
That hoard our badly needed rain.

No one has urgent need of me
Though I live to know I’m needed.
I couldn’t devise a shining goal
That would point me at tomorrow.

With eighteen years now looming large
I have to come up with a purpose
That’s gonna make it worth the trip
To reach my final destination.
BLT's Merriam Webster word-of-the-day game;word:Desultory.;Come join us - it's fun.
Do you all know how old I am?
If I tell you, will you run away?
Will you say that I am way too young
Or far too old and gray?

I see myself as middle aged
Some would tell me that’s a lie.
They’d tell me that the truth of age
Is really in the viewer’s eye.

I think it is a state of mind.
I’ve been around a while.
I’m not so young but I’m not old-
I say that with a smile.

I know a lot of useful things.
I know a lot of places.
I know how to make things work
And fill the empty spaces.

I can labor like a mule,
Or act like I’m the Queen.
I can charm the upper-crust
Or those who’s hands aren’t clean.

None of this depends on age,
It all depends on skill;
So don’t ask me how old I am-
I’m not over the hill.
Borrowed the title  phrase from Longfellow.  Thanks, H.W.
With a 40-year olds vocabulary
When I was only ten
I never stumbled on a word
I came across back then.

No matter what I read or saw
I knew the meaning of it.
Thesaurus was my dearest friend
I early grew to love it.

I excelled at “Word Power” games -
That Reader’s Digest feature.
I almost never missed a word -
I could have been its teacher.

Then suddenly, out of the blue,
A little brain bleed hit me
It didn’t hurt my body much,
But in my mind it bit me.

It wiped a zillion useful words
Off the blackboard of my mind.
It took the names of common things
And left me far behind.

Everybody will forget
Friend’s names and sometimes places.
I could no longer find the word
For things like parts of faces.

So once again I dug it out,
My old friend the Thesaurus
I need it now most every day,
Thank God it’s still there for us.
I review lists of adjectives and nouns for fun and pleasure.
When the agony
of dawn awakens
I think of
***** to arouse
the muse from
her slumber.
But I don't;
instead, I slam
three cups of
coffee, hoping to
jolt the old
***** from her
If the caffeine
doesn't do the trick,
I grab a few of
our favorites:
and Dylan Thomas.
I pace the floor
and read out loud.
Eventually, I feel her
begin to stir.
I yell,
"Is your fickle *** ready to work?"
And then the real day begins.
I know this sounds crazy,
but the muse and I
wouldn't have it any
other way.
To hear the main reason you liked me so in the beginning was because I was the opposite of your ex wife.

You didn’t actually value the things you said you did about me.

You didn’t appreciate the things that made me unique.

Like a coat off the rack.
You were just trying me on for size.
To see how this felt.
There was nothing unique to you.

You didn’t see my embellished gold buttons.
My tailored fit.
My velvet interior.

You didn’t love me for any of the unique things I am.
Which make me so valuable to some.
You just liked me because I was different.

You were just playing dress up.

— The End —