OLDER THAN PEOPLE

Some businesses are older,
Older than people get,
Some one bolder,
Must the course have set,

As a child,
In our downtown,
Curious, meek and mild,
Noted the place  known,
As Guiry’s.

A thriving buisiness then,
Paint and wallpaper purveyed,
And tools to apply them,
Now their business conveyed.

Way out to across eighty-eighth Ave.,
From Westminster Mall,
Out where the DIY people,
Have homes to do and all.

A venerable place,
That with dignity has aged,
And maintained a place,
Where buisiness can be waged.

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They were in business about twenty-eight years when I first noticed them while out with Mom shopping.  She made the remark,  “That is where your Uncle Les buys his paint and brushes.”

HOLIDAY ?

Christmas near,
Pink slip in one hand,
Turkey and gear,
In the other, I land.

Thinking I’m glad,
Christmas presents are under tree,
Somewhat sad,
Brief unemployment for me,
Wondering I had,
What will next job be ?

Will it pay enough ?
I’m ready to go from one job to another,
Will it be very rough ?
 Fending off the feeling of smother.

But, ’tis Christmas,
Our kids fed and gifted,
Bills are up to date,  but alas,
Into unemployment I’ve drifted.

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Funny thing,  this happened to me several times, (always just before Thanksgiving or Christmas),   I filed for unemployment.  Went through the mill and was told there was no job for me that would pay what I had been earning and that they couldn’t send a person to a job that paid less than they had been earning.   So – - before I would get an unemployment check I would find my own job  – - – maybe two.

CHARACTER STUDY

I’m not in the habit,
Of darting to and fro,
Like a frantic Jackrabbit,
But, more the way I go,
Is slow.

More like a tortoise my mien,
Plodding along smelling roses,
Seeing what is to be seen,
With no dashing poses.

As a kid I had the hope,
Of emulating,
The non-existent Jackalope,
Not even up to simulating,
What a dope !

A MUSE ON AMUSEMENT

Which way will things go ?
First up, then down,
No middle ground I know,
Once in northwest part of town.

Was Elitch Gardens,
Amusement park from days of yore,
I guess when arteries harden,
For a “store.”

A move is in order one can see,
So, did the park move,
To behind the depot in Platte River Valley,
It spread, hoping to be in the groove.

Sold itself to a big amusement park outfit,
And the admission went up,  a parking fee,
Home made picnic food no longer the bit,
John Q. couldn’t see,
That the price could fit,
His money wee.

So back to Elitch Gardens it went,
Good thing I hear is that, like before,
Once more a family can follow their bent,
And bring picnic food as of yore.

And the sculpture along side the entrance,
to the park that shows people having fun,
May show how it’ll be again once,
But to be safe, bring the Mon !

FEW AND FAR BETWEEN

But, oh so glorious,
When seen,
The fable notorious,
Of a pot of gold is mean.

There is rain in the air,
The streets wet,
Now turning fair,
And a rainbow yet !

CHANGES

Where once was flat land and railroad tracks,
Warehouses and companies,
Now those things are lacks,
Comes high priced, high rise hives of bees.

A place to  live at a price to pay,
In company with Pepsi Center,
And the once Six Flags, I say,
Warning  — be wary renter !

Beauty is not the prime,
Lights and action,
In this clime,
Rocky’s Field with lights in traction.

A grid of power lines,
Many streets and I-25,
Platte River Valley shines,
Saying, “I’m still alive.”

But I long for the days,
I knew as a young man,
Railroads the mainstays,
And productive business the plan.

Now things are a bit surreal,
Artistic graffiti,
Grace some building’s walls,



While the Big Blue Bear,
Is nosing the wall,
Of Convention hall,
Is it a stare ? Or a glare ?

Ah well,  must acclimate,
And sublimate,
Stay up to date,
And not be late,
GREAT

CLOUD HERDING

Sky stock getting a bit out of order,
Roaming at will,
Willy-nilly sorter,
Can’t have that still.

Scattered  around,
Hither and tither,
Very unsound,
And they go whither.

Hiding here and there,
Impishly,
And I glare,
But not wimpishly.

They do tend to clump,
Now and then,
But hide behind the building dump,
And streak off again.

To add to the confusion,
They pile one on another,
That ain’t amusin’
This mother.

Finally, other than a few strays,
Main bunch headed home,
And I have to go a ways,
And find my comb.

OCTOGENARIA

Eighties land,
Where I now live,
Has its fees in hand,
Which I give.

Creaky this, creaky that,
Feebleitude as well,
Was hard to get up from where I sat,
It has its own brand of hell.

But a bunch of non-dependent descendants,
Put joy in remembering,
Their babyhood resplendent,
In my Decembering.

I am top one of the barely spry,
In the fraternity,
Whose battle cry,
is I GOT THE SENIORITY !

WET ‘N’ DRY

Out driving one day,
We came across a pleasant lake,
Thought it’d be nice to stay,
And take a short break.

So peaceful and serene,
A salve to the soul,
‘Twould mean,
But, ’twas not our goal.

To a xeriscapy place,
Bound we were,
Not kind to a face,
Ideal for dry growth here.

Remarkable how a small amount of water,
Can elicit such growth,

Such intricate beauty,
As from an enchantress’ needle,

Rather our city,
Be amass,
By this pretty,
Than water hungry grass. 

TRUTH AS AN EPITAPH

A baby yet was our oldest,
When Dad married a second time,
Mom gone to rest,
To a heavenly clime.

His bride known by he and Mom for years,
Devoted herself to him,
And he to her with no fear,
Of discord or evil whim.

The years passed by,
He retired,
They traveled hither and nigh,
But came a time she was tired.

We could see that there was trouble with her,
Finally dad gave us the news that Doc,
Gave a diagnosis of cancer,
To us a shock.

His loving mate to surgery went,
Spent time in her room,
Struggling to live, almost spent,
Smiling though, trying to dispell gloom.

Sitting beside  her bed,
She grasped my hand,
Looked in my eyes and said,
“I did the best I could.”

‘Twasn’t her last day,
She lingered a day or two,
Think those were her last words to say,
And she died.

We remember Pat with love,  it was many years ago that she passed on,  our baby retirement age  now.  But what loving  trooper she was.   We miss her.