Cookies and Lemonade (parts 4 and 5)

James greeted Nana with a kiss on the cheek.

“Hello Crystal,” he said slightly bashfully.

“Hello James.” Crystal smiled.

He sat down with Crystal and Nana. The three of them conversed and laughed over the plate of Nana’s cookies until there came shouts from outside. A posse of children playing outside on the beloved rope swing had gotten themselves into an argument.  The two young adults looked at each other and laughed, remembering the times when they would have been the two causing a similar row. Nana rose stiffly from the table, knowing that she needed to referee the skirmish. 

“Nana Mae, you stay here. I’ll take care of it.”

Crystal rose from the table, as Nana sat gratefully down. Her skirts swished softly as Crystal walked to the backyard.  The two people in the kitchen heard her inquire of the problem involving the rope swing.

James stood, walked to the door and looked after Crystal. She was kneeling in front of a boy and girl, gently reprimanding them in a manner like Nana Mae. The children nodded their heads.

James smiled softly as Crystal rose and walked back towards the house, the posse of children following her like ducklings.

Sixteen Soldiers

Sixteen soldiers

Spread out on a hill

Looking for survivors

Where the dead are burning still

Sixteen soldiers

Going street by street

Searching for the living

In the place where dead men meet

Sixteen soldiers

Sifting through remains

Seeking someone, anyone

With blood still in their veins

Sixteen soldiers

Standing in a row

Staring at an orange sky

It ends today, we know

Black suits, green eyes

Guns up, faces down

Three big flashes

Bullets through the town

One falls, two fall

The ground is in the air

Ashes ashes, we all fall down

Thirteen soldiers

Left to carry on

Just a Few Clues Make a Whole Mystery

First, there was the taxi. Only a moment sooner, and you'd have seen it vanishing into the mountain tunnel.

There was the man with the scarred half-mask. He had turned it inside out to reveal the rest of his human face long ago. I still have no idea what it means.

Then, there were the two friends, standing at the train station. I heard one congratulate the other, but the other hadn't nearly understood why. They were parting ways.

These are the parts that are broken apart meticulously. Here, take them and sow them into something new. You're ready now.

Scream

Scream. Tore through utter silence as the man fell. 

“No I don’t hate you, I just want to save you while there is still something to be saved. No, I don’t hate you. I don’t hate you.” 

“Who spoke?” 

I know that she is with you. I have heard her voice before... 

And there she rose before him. I remember for I was there.  

The slim figure stode before the great warlord, hundreds of people kneeling around their feet. 

There it was that she drew close to him, and without removing her gaze from his eyes, snuffed out his life.

Why I Love The Game

Because it’s life in microcosm.

The pregnant pause before the pitcher lets go the ball. You don’t know what pitch is coming next. Might be a sinker or a backdoor slider. Or it might be aiming right at your head and you might not be able to get out of the way in time so it beans you solid.

But sometimes, it’s a meatball right over the plate. You hit it with everything you’ve got. Watch it go soaring out of the park. Round the bases, fist-pumping. And listen to the cheers only grow louder as you turn for home.

Falling

You were with me at the start.

I didn't know you then, but you knew me. Others told me about you, and I met you briefly. You might have called us acquaintances.

But you didn't appear to live up to their reference. I did not see you in the deep darkness; you did not protect me. I doubted your character, thought you a myth.

When I did see you, you offered love, and a Way. I spit in your face, I defied your suggestions.

Then I fell, helpless, alone.

And despite it all, you were there, and you caught me.

sounds of spring

The Tree's dance in the wind in a beautiful celebration of the arrival.
The Flower's laugh at the sunshine in a flirtatious manner, giggling, beckoning him to come near, hoping for him to sprinkle his sweetness on them.
The Shadow's hide behind whatever they can find, cowering beneath the big yellow blob that hangs low in the blue masterpiece behind it.
The smell of new, crisp petals float on the dry currents of the ocean in the sky.
The Sun warms their faces, spreading it's healthy glow to any and all who wish to receive it.
Rain quietly drenches the greedy ground with her unique, melodic sound
pit pat pit pat

drip

    drip

          drop.
               

the funny thing is that this makes grammatical sense.

The mluchy parf shlumulated the makky sherm (or at least he tried to). But what the mluchy parf didn’t smark  is that the makky sherm fugulated the pluge in the parf’s garg. Gimkley, the parf huggled jun the freg mequ. As parf kulmogated the makky sherm, the sherm guyultated the pluge in the garg. He made the pluge nufi and ner, he carkeled and mudged that pluge until it wheld mije carloh on the garg. So when the mluchy parf karjed hunon the makky sherm, the huggled pluge on the garg hubitted the parf and the makky sherm vried miyorious.