Living Less Large

This is the big risk
That I took today:
I told my hubby we can't
Continue to play.
The cost of everything
Has gotten so high,
And our retirement fund
Makes us want to cry.

His ego may be hurt,
I am quite sure,
But this is something
We both have to endure.
We didn't think we
Would live this long,
But his heart transplant
Made all estimates wrong.

My daddy's mama lived
To be ninety-six and a half.
If we live this long,
We'll want to laugh.
We won't be laughing
If we run out of dough,
So this is somewhere
We don't want to go.

Cost cutting measures
May not be easy,
But the alternatives
Make us both queasy.
We're glad we enjoy
Each others company
This is a continued joy
That we get for free.

During the day he's busy
Building a PT boat
That in the fighting
Of World War II did float.
But my Vietnam veteran
Always returns to me,
Unlike many veterans
Lost on boats at sea.

In the evenings we play
Scrabble and Rummikub
Then he rubs my feet
While we watch some tube.
On Sundays, we go see
Family and friends.
May our joy in each other
Never come to an end.

Today They Look Like Ducklings

Today they look like ducklings, all swimming in a row;
They start out on their sailboats, then over they go.
This must be a part of their seamanship training;
Or, are they simply taking a swim before it starts raining?

This could be essential lessons in how to right their own mistakes,
Under the watchful eyes of teachers who will do whatever it takes
To make sure these young sailors do not drown in their endeavors
To win their crazy competitions over who can act most clever.

If only we had more teachers with a sense of safety and adventure,
Who would guide our young people as they, into the world, venture,
Who understand the chances that one will manage to survive
Are based on how much one is willing to learn and how hard one strives.

Setting Sail

Like baby butterflies, they float on the waves;
In the shadow of the rescue boat, they are so brave.
Bouncing, bobbing, running into one another,
It's clear they haven't mastered the use of a rudder.
It must be on purpose that they heel over so gleefully;
I suspect this isn't what their instructors want to see.
Round and round they sail about the practice bouys
Many days will pass before they're ready for open seas.

Learning to master the wind, a treat for these girls and boys,
That gives the old salts a way to relive their youthful joys.
Dreams of riding the waves on the open sea,
A fantasy of what it means to feel truly free.
But even this freedom requires many disciplines,
That must learn before our adventures begin.
Without it, we chase each other in an endless loop,
Yawing and broaching on our rudderless sloops.

Rage-Filled Rhetoric

How much of thinking is shut down
By another's strong words?
If we want to get to the message,
We should examine the words we heard.

There are people of great passion
Who will burn with the hottest flame.
After the first fire burns down,
We must ask what message remains.

Are their words just kindling,
Simply a showy flash in the pan?
Or is their hottest passion a fuel
For pursuing a crafted plan?

We must look at their lives,
The examples they have set before,
Prior to allowing their impassioned
Speeches to enter our minds' doors.

We must remember that Herr Hitler
Was a man of impassioned speech.
His rage-filled rhetoric shut down the brain,
And it had a terribly far reach.

A screaming child is sent to the room
Until they collect their thoughts,
But we continue to ignore all the destruction
Adult bravado has wrought.

A snarling person, like a barking dog
Is something to be feared;
The real message their words carry
Is that we have come too near.

So often people snarl to ward us off
From discovering their truths,
But backing off is not the same
As rendering them moot.

All the passion pulls others in
To a mindless, soulless pack,
Until the numbers are sufficient
For them to feel strong enough to attack.

And there are so many others
Whose lives are lived in fear;
Their paranoia is activated by
The angry words they hear.

What can we do with excess passion
That flies in the face of reason?
By allowing the angry to lead the world,
We commit intellectual and emotional treason.

Why do we refuse to listen to
Those who speak soft and true?
When will we stop surrendering
To the loudest and most abusive few?

It is difficult to sit silently,
Listening and comprehending,
But until we learn respectful discourse,
The violence will have no ending.

Protecting Our Pack

Have you ever noticed how women like to
Publicly preen their men and their young?
Anyone else who tries to approach them
Is in grave danger of getting stung.

It is a woman's way of saying
This is mine; don't try to touch;
I'm the one who cares for
These people so very much.

Many men strut and flex,
As if they are the ones who are strong,
But, knowing that, if challenged,
Their strength wouldn't last very long.

I have willingly traded
Strength of body for strength of mind.
I feel protected by his quiet courage,
Preferring that my mate be smart and kind.

Many people travel in packs,
Rather than stay and protect their own.
It doesn't seem to me that
Their adolescence has been outgrown.

There are other men and women
Who seek a society of friends
That are pledged to protect each other
Until all of their lives end.

Because we have chosen new family,
We are blessed with such a society
Of faithful long-time friends,
Who know my man, my children, and me.

We rejoice with each others joys,
Share in each others' passion and pain.
And when we lose our way, they are there
To help us find our right path again.

Missing My Children

Oh, how I miss my children and their children, too;
The summers used to be filled with so many things to do.
But, now we're faced with the occasional short visit,
As the time allotted to each adult is so carefully split.

I'm tempted to take in children of some other folks,
But the truth is that so much parenting is now a joke.
Parents who want no responsibility seem to be
The first to blame the people who agree to set them free.

In order to secure our future finances, we must say no
To many who would like a place for their children to go.
We live in a society that wants everything with no price,
We can't afford to have only a few who are willing to sacrifice.

Those who want something for nothing are the first to bring
Lawsuits and slander that can ruin us while they sting.
"No good deed goes unpunished," is a saying that seems true.
It does put a damper on the deeds we'd like to do.

A "Granny Camp" would be a pleasure if children knew respect,
But authority is now something all children feel free to reject.
Being "the cool one" doesn't cut it in a life-threatening emergency
But it seems the only value that the young people are willing to see.

While I know of the many abuses of unquestioned authority,
There must be an alternative to all the children running free.
I would love to bring inner-city children to learn to farm and preserve
But I can't get past the sentence that any mistakes may cause us to serve.

Life's Love Story

In a former life, I was the kind of wife
Who did lunch with the ladies in waiting.
When my husband became a man out of the game,
I felt my independent spirit abating.

This situation was fine to a point,
But we began to lose our spark.
If neither of us had much to do,
About what of interest would we talk.

I tried gardening, cooking, canning;
We even did these things together
The changes we're making aren't because
The togetherness gives us no pleasure.

It just that we believe that
Love should expand and spread to others,
Starting with our close community
Of chosen sisters and brothers.

Many people choose a church
To create this community of the heart.
We believe that shared human passion
For good is a natural way to start.

I don't mind freely admitting that
What I am really ready and hoping for
Is the younger generation to learn from us,
And take up our many physical chores.

I would like to sit back and bask
In all the shining reflected glory
Of the compassionate, competent young families
Who are the fruits of our love story.