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About an excellent woman.
“You have to play with care”
Her voice whispers
In the silence I hear her
It’s just a game of solitaire
But the words of her wisdom I still hear
She advises me to watch carefully
And to play every card
To have no fear
Take big chances
Just worry about the sequence
Not the match of the color
I wonder if she really knew
Just what she was teaching me?
It was SO HOT
Now, remember- I lived in the country
We were in her henhouse. Merle and me.
Checking for eggs.
Merle could sure wrangle some chickens. I remember one time-
One of her hens stopped laying eggs.
She was explaining it all to me. She had been out to gather eggs
Every day as usual. The hen had been barren for almost a week.
That particular day,
It was the afternoon,
Merle grabbed that hen from her nest
And with the squawking fowl before her
(Of course at arm’s length)
She marched that bird out to the horses’ trough
And she plunged ‘Ms. Hen’s’ head right in
Held her down for a full minute
Chicken was protesting
Water splashing furiously
Loud cackling mixed within the sound
Of the actual experience of the nothing
That could be ‘madder than a wet hen’
In all of it’s glorious illustration
And, now, as I remember-
I have to ask:
“wasn’t I lucky?”
“That will shock her into production”
I was probably only 8
But I sure do remember
And back to the matter at hand
On that HOT day-
One of those hens laid this odd egg
It had no shell
Just soft membrane with nothing to protect it
Even from the most delicate prod
That it was found intact was impressive
That the hen itself did not rupture it
Upon it’s passage forth into the nest
In the presence of the ‘oeuf’
One would wonder how it could possibly be
Merle showed it to her husband
And she showed it to the neighbors
After she showed it to me
And when she was done
In that blisteringly hot sun
She bet me a quarter that it was so hot
That if she layed that egg
Up on her tractor
It would fry that egg
So- she did
And it did
And I lost that quarter
She taught me how to play poker
(Even ‘High Chicago’ and ‘Low Las Vegas’)
Took me to ‘Bingo’
Teached me how to cook
Make a “Tom Collins”
Grow a garden
Break a colt
Never judged me
And she was always there
And as I grew older
I looked in retrospect at the way she lived
And I tried to emulate that
I sure do miss her
My Secret Obsession
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|Reviewed by Felix Perry
|Heroes come in many shapes and sizes and it appears you found yours early and this wonderful persons soul helped to shape you into the wonderful woman you have become, so not only are you glad she was there for you but so are all of us.
|Reviewed by jude forese
|excellent work, Blue ...|
|Reviewed by John Flanagan
|Blue, I love the style of this, at once narrative and reflective with intense emotion and recollection in a wonderfully right setting. This is very fine writing.
|Reviewed by Kenny Moon
|Great portrait of a mentor, someone who showed you things, left a lasting memory. Everything in the world is uniquely itself. k|
|Reviewed by Regis Auffray
|I love the way you write. I wish I could spend time with you. I don't tell that to just anybody. Respectfully with love and my best wishes,
|Reviewed by Gene Williamson
|I like the form, Blue, I like the way you think and write.
I like the fact that you proved Thomas Wolfe wrong: you can
go home again in your writing. I'm glad you took us along.
|Reviewed by Chantilly Lace (Reader)
|Very nice writing Blue..enjoyed...be well and always safe...HUgssss|
|Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado
|Great write, Blue; very well penned!
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Burleson, Karen Lynn. :D
|Reviewed by J AG
|A bittersweet recollection of a time when at the hands of someone who took time taught lessons to last a lifetime, and it all is beautifully presented and then concluded in the final simplistically powerful line .... an impressive gift. Thank you for sharing it with us.|