'Nuf Said...

My brother, Michael, three years older and wiser,knows me well enough to see that I have a very quirky side to my personality.
There are times when I become philosophical.
My friends rely on my good judgment and advice.
There are other occasions when I become 'off the wall',
meaning, my proclivity for crazy poetry kicks in.
It's pretty freaky how easily I can write the stuff..
Totally “swamp” poetry as Michael calls it.
My nickname is “Swampette.”

Dear Michael thinks I should wax poetic, let my hair down a bit.
If you're ready, here goes,with apologies to bro:


Spike and Mike

There once was a feller named Michael
Who hopped on his three-wheeled bicycle
He took off like a bat
Spun out and went splat
On ol' lady Greevy's fat cat.

Spike stretched and reeled
Burped loud and clear
The poisoned dinner flew out
Twenty feet to the rear.

Spike stared up at Michael with a toothless grin
Much like Ol' lady Greevy after her gin
Eyeing the bike with his head in a spin
Spike took off like a bat with Mike's bike in tow
Spun out and went splat on ol' lady Greevy's fat toe.

Cat's have nine lives don'tcha know
But Spike who was dumb
Lost count ages ago
And for Spike, at last
This was the end of the show.


Swampette

Down the Yellow Brick Road...

Where have all the years gone, and so quickly?
These thoughts cross my mind every once in awhile,
especially now as I've had my 62nd birthday.
If I could, would I go back to an earlier time, back
to my teen years or my college days?

If I'd had a way of foretelling the future, I may
have done a few things differently, change my
direction a bit, but then again...
If I'd fallen in love at 19 with the handsome Italian
fella living next door, who I felt was in love with me
at the time , I'd no doubt have a houseful of kids.
But, I might also be divorced—since that was his
status a few years ago, and still might be.


If I'd been more motivated to finish college and
get a degree, I'd be teaching English Comp right now.
When I'd moved to San Francisco in 1970, I was working
at a local store. From the entrance I heard,
“Nancy, what on God's earth are you doing working here?”
My jaw dropped.

It was my former college professor, Jean Wilkinson,
who'd had very high aspirations for me.
She'd kept many of the works I'd written, and thought
I would've pursued a writing career, at the very least.
Presently, I'm still writing: short stories and romantic poetry,
as well as this blog.

If I'd followed my parents to Oregon instead of moving to
the Bay Area, I would've never met my husband, a handsome
airline captain,and had our two children.
Nor would I have had the opportunity to meet Charlton Heston
or Bing Crosby who were customers of mine one day.

We now live in South West Florida, which has changed the
direction of my life. I'm a freelance photographer, living a dream
I've always had--sequestered in the back of my mind.
I'm an artist, too.

Life is often convoluted.
You're never sure what each day is going to bring.
Ah, to be a kid again...?
Not a chance.