I Am A Shoe Stocker
Pictures Are From Internet
I Am A Shoe Stocker
Shoes
No, I am not off my rocker
I am merely a shoe stocker
I have a fetish for matching shoes
New pairs banish any lingering blues
High heels, low heels, flats and pumps
Latest style sneakers to make me jump
Back then design and colors ruled the roost
Pirouetting prettily in shoes as an ego boost
Clogs, boots, stilettos and plain Mary Jane’s
All were wearable then without complains
Now with advancing years comfort is the by word
I collect shoes and mores shoes to keep me anchored
Flat feet and fallen arches are the bane of a shoe lover
Warding off is an uphill task as it does my image butcher
Wearing sturdy not so fancy shoes is now my sad lot
Shoes stocking habits hence have suffered somewhat
*** ***
These Boots Are made For Walking- Nancy Sinatra
You keep saying you got something for me
Something you call love but confess
You’ve been a’messin’ where you shouldn’t ‘ve been a’messin’
And now someone else is getting all your best
Well, these boots are made for walking, and that’s just what they’ll do
One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you
You keep lyin’ when you oughta be truthin’
You keep losing when you oughta not bet
You keep samin’ when you oughta be a’changin’
What’s right is right but you ain’t been right yet
These boots are made for walking, and that’s just what they’ll do
One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you
LEADBREAK
You keep playing where you shouldn’t be playing
And you keep thinking that you’ll never get burnt (HAH)
Well, I’ve just found me a brand new box of matches (YEAH)
And what he knows you ain’t had time to learn
These boots are made for walking, and that’s just what they’ll do
One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you
SPOKEN
Are you ready, boots?
Start walkin
Originally Published: October 30, 2009
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The Librarian
Pushing back pince nez
Two out of eyes two
Aquiline nose astride
Surveying lined rows
Domain with pride
Was the librarian
Aisles of stiff spines
Books in confines
an ocean of whines
opines, pines, twines
Words strung outlines
Stroked by librarian
Enclosed and bound
Embossed n collated
Hard back paper back
Bytes in soundtracks
Imprisoned in discs
Guarded by librarian
Transcripted risks
Churned out whisks
Mind’s fantasy frisks
Saddled to peddle
Print pressed capsule
Counseled as per rule
All librarian’s treasure
Originally Published: October 29, 2009
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Granny And Grandpa
My Grandma
Supporting covered head on a diminutive form
And subtle steely tenderness for family to conform
Brooking no laxity, got compliance with alacrity
Grandpa with walrus moustache too gave in meekly
She ruled her roost judiciously with élan and aplomb
Kids knew her silence was more lethal than a firebomb
Children, grandchildren, chauffeur, cook and the maids
All got their instructions and duty allocation every day
Thus ran the sprawling home like a well oiled machine
With her at helm it was dusted and polished pristine
As our summer vacation nest we experienced her love only
She showered it fairly whilst plying us with many a goody
Cocooned in her love hot summer months zipped by in a blur
Soon we returned home falling in rut as schoolbag haulers
Halcyon days of summer vacations glitter like night’s twinkling stars
I often traipse down memory lane where granny made us feel like tsars
Grandparents are like an oasis of love and a fountain of benevolence
Rejoicing in clan’s extension and flowering of planted tree’s fragrance
*** *** ***
Grandpa’s Walrus Moustache
Grandpa was hopping mad
Someone had done him bad
Overnight forest was denuded
Invader virginal lip marauded
As he jumped up and down in rage
Toddler Monty joined him in jump race
This made grandpa crackup in guffaw
Dislodging the rage bone stuck in craw
Settling down in his favorite rocker
Held conference to solve this shocker
Placed box on table for confession slip
Needing ownership of this sacrilege quick
His hookah pipe felt it was in alien territory
Saddened at missing moustache now history
Puffing in quick succession inhales felt odd
A bald upper lip made grandpa rather appalled
Daily an hour long fond care was expended
To maintain health of moustache extended
It was soon to be an entrant in record books
Now cruelly shaved upper lip agitated shook
After a long sleepless fasting mournful night
Grandpa opened box to find a slip to shed light
In his slumber family had caused its full pruning
Doctor said moustache was also his health ruining
Hygiene demanded that walrus moustache be gone
Being a veritable magnet, hotbed of bacteria borne
Love had made them take this drastic extreme step
Villainously robbing grandpa’s pride to health pep
Saga happy sad sweet sour it is of grandpa’s moustache
A ferocious walrus bush mush to which he was attached
From it in cloak n dagger fashion was by family detached
A friendly barber as hangman wielded razor with panache
**** **** ****
was fondly remembering my granny and grandpa and the tickling huge moustache-
he looked like the image above except for a different hat (headgear)
(pictures are from the internet- disclaimer)
Originally Published: October 28, 2009
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Light Of My Life
Light of My Life
She is the light of my life
She makes it all worthwhile
When life weighs me down
Her image washes away my frown
When irritation attacks something fierce
Recalling her lovely face helps it pierce
When pain reduces my gait to a shuffle
I recall vow to improve for my eye’s apple
When the going gets hard and really tough
Your thought makes me want to come on top
You are my moonbeam and my ray of sunshine
Your smile reinforces my faith and my bloodline
Grandchild is the light of my life
And she makes it all worthwhile
YOU LIGHT UP MY LIFE (Debbie Boone)
So many nights I sit by my window
Waiting for someone to sing me his song
So many dreams I kept deep inside me
Alone in the dark but now
You’ve come along
You light up my life
You give me hope
To carry on
You light up my days
and fill my nights with song
Rollin’ at sea, adrift on the water
Could it be finally I’m turning for home?
Finally, a chance to say hey,
I love You
Never again to be all alone
You light up my life
You give me hope
To carry on
You light up my days
and fill my nights with song
You light up my life
You give me hope
To carry on
You light up my days
and fill my nights with song
It can’t be wrong
When it feels so right
‘Cause You
You light up my life
Originally Published: October 23, 2009
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Picturespeak
A Picture Speaks
Graffiti
A statement of frustration
In doodles
Thumbing nose at institutions
In oodles
Institution’s blood
Boiling in curdles
Rectangular window
Human neglect and decay
Sharp defined squares frayed
Cobwebs having field day
Spiders having measured land’s lay
Resigned to careless hands born to betray
Wall
Standing firm and proud
In colors sepia to blend not loud
Like a dog to a glowing lamp post-
Sacrilegiously reduced to a graffiti host
plus gouged crucified by square iron posts
note: a wall is a parent
graffiti - expressions of ungrateful children
steel window frame are hardships parents face in life’s journey
(picture courtesy- burningwell.org)
Originally Published: October 21, 2009
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