Poems and Such

 Wonder

Noel Laflin

5-10-17

I know folks who found religion,

I know folks who walked away.

I once was of the former,

Now wonder fills my days.
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Moder

May 17th, 2017

(To note Norwegian Constitution Day)

My mother spoke no Engelsk,
Before her skole hus days.
Norsk was the morder tongue,
It was the familie way.

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Footprints on the Table

5-13-17

There are footprints on the table,

I’m sorry to confess.

From standing there to shoot more shots,

Of dinner in the nest.

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Optimist

5-12-17

I strive to be an optimist,

Defeat the odds - defy.

And when dealt lemons, merely say:

Ah, screw it - let’s make pie.

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My Old Tree

5-22-17

If there is a next life,
Reincarnate, if you please.
Then may I be a hummingbird,
And live in my old tree.

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All a Twitter

May 2016

There once was a starling convention,
Where members all vied for attention,
The outfits did glitter,
Like birds all a twitter,
And boasted of downright pretension.

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102

6-5-17

On this day, so long ago,
Out on a farm – Dakota land,
My mother made her debut,
It’s said a midwife lent a hand.

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Raccoons

Raccoons aren’t fond of garlic,

Unlike us folks inside,

So when we spread round compost,

The garlic makes them cry.

And that is fine with this guy,

As buddies otherwise,

Would tear apart the garden,

But now depart chastised.

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The Fondest of Summers

Summer 2017

This has been the fondest of summers,

With nests still filled with young hummers.

They play hide and seek,

But loose when their beaks,

Stick out from beneath - what a bummer.

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Summer Storm
8-1-17

Was standing in the driveway marveling at the sudden summer storm - which I thought had passed - when the mother of all thunderclaps, preceded by a low, blinding lightning bolt, hit our neighborhood. A flock of parrots was passing overhead when it struck. They went crazy, along with the crows and every other feathered friend. Car alarms blared, dogs howled. The ricochet off of Panorama Hill was incredible. Pounding rain then ensued, cleaning off the roofs, streets and trees. I stood under the eves of the garage taking it all in. 8-1-17  @ 5pm

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Swallowing His Pride

8-4-17

A synchronized swooping squadron of steely-eyed, screaming swallows successfully drove off a young Cooper’s hawk from the north end of the pond this morning.
Swallowing his pride, the hawk bailed into our neighborhood across the street, circled round and quietly flew into the south end of the pond. He perched atop the chain link fence looking hungry.
I wasn’t the only witness to the stealthy, sneaky move as silent swallow sentries, now posted at every entry point, sounded the alarm once more.
Poor Coop left empty-taloned, but not before I got a quick shot of him taking brief refuge in a sycamore above me. 
I swear I could hear his stomach growling.
Or was that his pride?

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Dragonflies

7-30-17

Dragonflies are buzzing,

They’re coming forth in droves,

It’s nature’s way of showing off

Her golden treasure trove.

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Fairy Queen
8-6-17

A penny for your thoughts?

I asked the fairy queen.

And placed one on a mushroom,

But silence only gleamed.

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Heat

8-6-17

Down at the pond on a warm summer day,

A turtle glanced up and was heard to say:

‘Don’t look now, but there are dancers in heat,

Amorous blue – how very indiscreet

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Unfortunate Name

I'm a pretty little bush tit short and stout,

I've got a nom de plume that does stand out…

But if you see me up close you just might shout,

‘The guy who named you was drunk, no doubt!”

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I Never Heard My Father Swear

Noel Laflin

8-21-17

I never heard my father swear,
Till I was in my teens.
But when he finally found the words,
He cursed till he was green.

Ten burning steaks upon the grill,
Did cause foul oaths to fly,
He'd left them unattended, see?
And flames now reached the sky.

My dad, he tried to right the scene,
By flipping each in turn,
But swore anew as each revealed,
A hellish, nasty burn.

And so I learned a few new words,
Way back upon that day,
When all was lost on that old grill,
And dad did have his say.

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Forty Years Ago

Noel Laflin

8-23-17

We come across old photos,
And note the passing years.
Here marks a brother’s wedding,
Our family full of cheer.

Forty years ago it was,
And much to my surprise,
I wonder where our youth went,
And where we got those ties …

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Twenty years ago, today,

Vi Laflin took her leave,

Of earthly pain and cruel disease,

Her spirit finally free.

We, her children, figure that,

Mom still sends us signs.

How else does one explain the fact,

That stars still choose to shine?

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Lying to Squirrels
By I.B. Nutts

I asked a squirrel in the tree,
'Why you staring down at me?'
'Ya got some grub?' was his reply,
'No,' I lied, and walked on by.

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Flattering the Birds
By A.Finch

‘You two are the spice of life,’

I told this pretty pair.

‘Your charm, your gait, your speckled grace,

You’re downright debonair!’

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Have you been to Capistrano?

I asked my feathered friend.

‘Oh, that’s for Cliff – but I’m a Barn,

So, no, I’ve never been.’

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Praising Kingfishers
By I. M. Speedy

Faster than a feathered bullet,
Beating out a raptor’s dive,
Lucky like Egyptian cats,
These guys have got ten lives.

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  And so it is you found me,

  Way up where branches bend.

  What was the clue that gave me up?

  Your steely gaze, my friend.

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‘Tomorrow be the equinox’,

My furry friend declared.

‘We’ve equal light and equal dark,

And nuts enough to spare.’

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And here with Indian summer,

Bright wings reflect the hue,

Of dragonflies in final flight,

The waters green and blue.

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Knick-knacks just love our house,
Spreading wide their roots.
‘Something’s got to give!’, I cried …
So dusting got the boot.

My eyes are dim, I cannot see -

I did not bring my specs with me.

The upside is, I am redeemed -

As the house appears quite clean.

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December 1, 2015 – World AIDS Day

Why I lived, while so many others did not –
I will never know for certain.
Is there survivor's guilt, you ask.
Yes. 
But I have tried to replace it - over time - with fond remembrance,
As I am here to still bear witness, a quarter of a century later,
That they indeed did live and breathe,
Love, contribute, care and create -
If only, for a limited life engagement.
So here’s to the memory of Tom, Jeremy, Rick, David, John, 
Lane, Doug, Jerry, Jim ...
And oh, so many more to recall.
But you all live in memory lads - you are not forgotten.

"What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain
Under my head till morning; but the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for reply,
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain
For unremembered lads that not again
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.
Thus in winter stands the lonely tree,
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
Yet knows its boughs more silent than before:
I cannot say what loves have come and gone,
I only know that summer sang in me
A little while, that in me sings no more."
Edna St. Vincent Millay

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It’s the first day of Thanksgiving break,

And kids are running free,

Racing down the greenbelt,

Sometimes I miss young me.

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Balcony Rumble

By  I.C. Trouble

A wren has found the feeder,

And hummers are dismayed.

The wren is high on sugar,

While hummers buy switchblades.

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Monday Night Troop Meetings

By I.B. Hurt

‘British bulldog one, two, three!’

Banshee voices shrieked with glee,

In the basement of a church,

Hallowed ground soon besmirched,

With egos slammed - bodies bruised,

What the hell, we stayed amused.

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I’ll write a silly poem,

And put it in my file.

Limericks are better,

But harder to compile.

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12-21-17
Mom has been gone for 20 years now, Susanne Laflin is 1500 miles away, and Krysten Boggs NewComer is taking finals. Thus, I have taken matters into my own hands and am baking cookies. 
It's been years.
But so far the sampling is pretty good.
I'd post a photo, but I don't need a stampede. 
Besides, they'll be gone before anyone could get here.

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12-22-15

No hike today,
As rain got in the way.
The hillsides will be slick,
The pathways muddy-thick.
The camera would get ruined,
And then I’d be a stewin’ …

So here I sit warm and dry.
And listen to the birds outside,
As they chirp, sing and dance,
Taunting me to take a chance.
To which I say, 'Hey, no way.'
They just laugh and fly away.

Birthday Parties

Birthday Parties

Noel Laflin

5-9-17

When my dad hit his ninetieth birthday, some years ago, we thought it appropriate to throw him a party.

Friends from church, as well as the old neighborhood, all showed up to his Leisure World home in order to pay their respects.

The only hitch to the day was dad’s confusion as to his actual age, since he thought it was his eightieth birthday and not the ninetieth. He became ever so prickly if you tried to tell him otherwise. We thought it best to just let him be any age he preferred that day.

That confusion began a few years after my mother’s death, a decade prior, when dad just became stuck in time. And although short term memory was pretty well shot, long term recall was clear as a bell, which was fine for greeting old friends and neighbors that he had known from decades past.

My job that day was to be the advance man outside the door and explain the situation to arriving guests.

Folks cooperated beautifully and made no mention to actual age that afternoon. Cards were read aloud to dad, as macular degeneration had done in his eyesight, and if a nod to ninety was in the text, we discreetly changed the figure to eighty, or left it out altogether.

By the time his ninety-first birthday rolled around, there was no party, as he was in hospice care. He would leave us six weeks later.

However, children from a nearby school did show up at his room in the skilled nursing facility, bringing flowers, and singing him a happy birthday tune.

An elderly chaplain from the Salvation Army also stopped by, spoke to him kindly, patted his hand, and gave him a teddy bear.

Wisely, or perhaps, luckily enough - on the part of both young and old alike – there was no mention of age.

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