April is National Poetry Month

TINIAN 15 N LAT WEATHER WATCH

It is hot, it is hot here year round
the humidity and the heat are always the same
it is the same old story always found
equitable temperatures, latitude, precipitation to blame
Well we might as well sit down and have a beer
and talk about the last typhoon
it’s the next one coming that we usually fear
none yet this year hopefully none very soon
We might talk about family living in the states
and horrible ice storms and accidents in the snow
then there is the rising cost of air fare rates
and all that traffic makes us not want to go
Yes, another beer would be good underneath pine trees
15 F degrees temperature differential if you please.

The next sonnet was inspired by a traditional Irish country song collected by Padraic Colum, published as “She Moved Through the Fair” in 1909.
Many slightly different versions of it have been recorded since then.

SHE DIED WITH A FLAIR & CAME BACK IN A FLARE

My old love said to me, “All those we love are dead”
our parents long gone buried at the old homestead
then she stepped away from me and this she did say
it will not be long, love, till our own dying day
she slipped away from me and died with a flair
fondly I kissed her and stroked her white hair
her spirit soared skyward towards Venus in the sky
the Teakettle stars boiled in the Milky Way near by
and many are the nights as at the stars I stare
in every meteorite my love passes by in a flare
she passed by last night a meteorite flare in the black
she stood by my bedside near the old fishing shack
she whispered in my ear and this she did say
I’ll see you soon in heaven some sweet day.

A WASP IN THE CITRUS GROVE

I knew the oranges were not sweet
as I walked from field to field
though they were great in my tea
quite juicy and loaded with Vitamin C
There was a large bushy tree near by
my house and with fruit it was loaded
as I plucked my last of four oranges
a long black wasp flew at me goaded
It bit the finger of my left hand
and then flew up and bit my lip
I flicked it off but up the sleeve
of my loose shirt it made another trip
It bit me thrice and heard me howl as it
flew silently off and left me with a scowl.

I’M NOT AFRAID OF DEATH

I’m not afraid of death
its just knowing its the last breath
I’m not afraid of dying
its hearing all those people crying
I love Arlo Guthrie’s Motorcycle Song
“and I don’t wanna die I just want
to ride on my motor cy… cle”
Bob Dylan sang, “Darkness at the break
of noon…eclipses both the sun and moon
…he not busy being born is busy dying”
we know its coming but we can’t say when
it is usually unknown as it has always been
I’m not afraid of death
its just knowing its the last breath.