EARLY EYES

Up early and about,
A necessary thing sometime,
Gave me though,  a chance to scout,
The scene to our west did truly chime.

To see the mountains – a bit low,
 Sunlight on the foothills gleams,
Gives a glow,
This man deems.
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I don’t often get out in the morning early,  and seldom am headed west.   Back east on a higher point one can see the mountains behind the foothills.     On a fresh morning a man feels that perhaps with a tad closer look he could count the needles on the pine trees. 

Foul Fowl

Seeing things again,
Denizens of the sky,
Ferocious are they,
And for blood they try.

Swooping low,
I fear for their prey,
Hope they are not slow,
And can evade a slay.
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Most cloud beasts and birds are nice an peaceful,  but this wide open beak gives me the shivers.

THE HOCKS FAMILY

By name the only one I knew,
Was Holly,
She lived in many places too,
What a looker by golly !

By the fence in most backyards,
In profusion they stood,
Sweet pretty backyard guards,
Allowing nothing in but good.

The girls the artists they were,
Made dolls of those flowers,
Had everything but fur,
And superpowers.

Don’t see them around much today,
I miss them, they stood so tall,
Dignified,
Oh, I say !

PLACE OF PEACE

South Side of Crown Hill Lake,
Has it all,
A place to park and a rest take,
Between the hurly burly is a wall.

Sky, trees, clouds and mountains,
And the lake foreground,
But no fountains,
Nor are they needed I’ll be bound.

Those mystic mountains in shades of blue,
Hinting of things unwritten,
Stir my soul and heart too,
While thinking and sittin’

SAVINGS

My little camera,
Mines ore,
Not one chimera,
But our scenery and more.

A monument dedicated to some schoolchildren,
Killed in a schoolbus tragedy,
At a rail crossing,
December 1961,
Near Greeley.
We stopped and remembered.



Late on the way back,
The clouds are on track,
And mountains way back,
Water in front,  no lack.

Clouds drawing strange doodles,
Is that a deer with squashed antlers above ?
Strains my noodles,
But the sunlight shining under I love.

TIME OUT

There are times when a man,
Must do the things he has to do,
Try as he can,
He must wade through the goo.

Sometimes the tasks come bumper to bumper,
Not risky, no crisis,
But the urge to dump’er,
Is not the wisest.

So not sick this man,
Just not enough hours in the day,
To fit eight days in the week,  I do all I can,
Just can’t rearrange the calendar that way.

Here a bit wacky by cracky !

LANDMARK OF THE HEART

As a child a buildings features,
Were what imprinted my mind,
Signage amongst the creatures,
Gave my my mind a wind.

Down by the station,
Where trains came to town,
Was the minor nation,
In our town.

Beatrice Creamery,  Meadow  Gold Butter,
 In a block long building and a block wide,
Was the stuff that was the utter,
Happiness of this boys hide.

The architectural design,
Was so fancy,
More than other buildings, ’twas fine,
Made my tummy go all dancy.

I think they are all lofts now, in there,
Times change as companies do,
Down by the station is called LoDo, where,
The elite meet to eat and go,
For a drink there..
 

THOR GLOWERS

Frowning he hangs over town,
Silent he is as he goes,
Gray and threatening he has a frown,
Soon the water from above flows.

A fierce but short rain,
Washes our earth,
Leaving little pain,
For green rebirth.

Through the day,
He hovers,

Dousing with water,
Here, there and everywhere,
He’s a spotter,
With liquid to spare.

Ah, but yet you see,
Some summer for you and me,

GRUMP DAY

This old man, out of sorts,
No hurts or sores,
But ugly with warts,
Slamming doors.

Permanent scowl,
Broncos lost,
Did produce a howl,
E’en though no cost.

Only thing to do,
Is sentence myself,
To a week or two,
Of being on the shelf,

In the Silver Plume Jail,
Unwarranted bad mood,
The charge, convicted, no bail,
Must learn to be good.

GOLD IN THE HILLS

Like a wee queen of gold,
Stands this prim and proper Aspen,
Court she’ll hold,
Midst the evergreens.

A few, on the way to queen’s soiree,
On the roadside make their way,

Behind comes the crowd,
Marching uphill,
With golden notes loud,
I can hear them still.

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We were a bit early in Estes Park,   the Aspens not quite at their peak yet.
But as ever we were in our  own paradise !