ronfrazer

We'll skip the 11/24 meeting because so many people are busy with other things. The next meeting will be on Dec 1, 10am, at the Redfish Village Owner's Lounge (above the management office) at 30-A and Co. Rd 83.

mikecatadjuster

Al Stewart played on the radio,
It was the Year of the Cat.

I was transfixed in that moment of time,
Somewhere between the melody and the sensuous rhyme.

I lay motionless and daydreamed.

Mostly my dream just soared with the sound,
The piano, the voice, and the guitar goin' round.

It was aimless, and timeless, and useless, you could say..
But 30 years later I still remember that day.

ronfrazer

These old songs that were the soundtrack for our youth with its early romances seem to touch places in our minds that aren't easily available otherwise. Thanks for sharing your poem.

mikecatadjuster

Poem by Michael Ferguson for his daughter Mikelynn Brooke

Ancillary, fiduciary,
Can I have a pink strawberry?

Pink is ink that’s on the brink,
She’s used it all,
That’s what I think.

She’s done her toes,
Some on her nose,
There she stands
Set in a pose.

Her smile is blue,
Lipstick, who knew?
What that little girl,
In no time could do.

Her shirt is new,
The third today,
There’ll be some more,
She’s on her way.

I should have known
When I didn’t hear,
But now I enter
Her room with fear.

When she’s quiet
That spells trouble,
Oh! Her floor
Beneath the rubble.

Mikelynn! I call
And she appears,
But I can’t start
Her raining tears.

She’s a girl, she’s playing
She’s made a mess,
But make no mistake
She’s still the best.

After all, look,
She’s so small,
But what she’s built
It’s towering tall.

Her mounds of clothes
Could make a mall,
Don’t climb from there
You could take a fall.

I smile and think,
One day she’ll grow,
and looking back
I know I’ll know.

That on that day of
Blue and pink,
I stood and stared
And didn’t blink.

I soaked it in
And filed away
A mem-ory,
A happy day.

Blue and pink,
A girl I think,
That she above
All else I love.

A girl at play,
Blue and pink today.

YouTube- John Mayer - Daughters

mikecatadjuster

Distress Signals

Sent, but not from an island, deserted.
Felt, but not from a plane crashed down.
Heard, but not from a radio transmission,
Missed, from a world constantly in motion.

The signal is given off by someone right next to you, in need, but wondering if it's even worth the effort to speak plainly. Wondering if you'd even hear it at all.

Love those around this Holiday season. Your love may go farther than you've ever imagined. With ramifications deeper than you've ever... well, just make sure to love with a smile :)