BREAKFAST WITH A WHITE WING DOVE

Our grain cylinder, outside my writing window,

    hangs one inch from the glass...

The reason is to keep it dry....under the eaves

    during the coming monsoons...

It can melt.

Oft a white wing dove lands on the wrought 

    iron decor

and you hear a "BONK..."

Have you ever seen one from four feet away?

    their gray wings fold close to 

their bodies, and a beautiful strip of white

     shows under each wing

With a smaller strip of blue, under that...

A white wing dove is not, by any means, the

     brightest, most colorful bird ever

created (out of maybe ten thousand), but it's

     simple beauty is amazing....

It's neck is long, exquisitely curved, up to

    its head...it's overall color is a 

medium gray...its eyes are bright and alert

    and it has that jerky nerve system

birds have

Which causes it to, not slowly turn its head,

     but in one movement it looks 

two inches---that way---and three inches this

     way...and it looks between almost 

every bite, and the glances

are aimed at me...for he is a little suspicious

     of the window, my little animals atop

the bookshelf, the light over my writing table,

     and all the strange sights here 

where I write.

(It all amazes me sometimes.)

But the breakfast grain is too tempting for him---

     and so he grabs three beaks-full

and jerkily checks me...two beaks-full...and 

    checks me....ever wary

and uneasy.

I, in turn, surreptitiously as possible, grab

    a spoonful of Cheerios as often as 

I can...though I am more interested in this

    event that is taking place...

Being somewhat of a poet at heart, I often

     muse when I see the Earth's miracles,

and I ponder God's creation:

Was the "Third Day" an eon when much 

   was taking place...

It must have taken time to design it all...

    thousands of species of trees, flowers,

plants, animals...not even counting the 

     beautiful mountains, rivers, springs...

Is the Earth the finale and masterpiece 

    of God's whole creation...with us 

as his eternal  "companions?"

A bonk on the glass-- the dove has turned---

    brings me back to the moment,

and as I forget and reach for my coffee,

    Mr. Dove sees my sudden move...

And he is gone.

Little flecks on the glass, where he burped,

    teach me that doves 

are messy eaters.

*******************

BY MIL

27 June 16

0713 hours

"FRED...THE SHOW BASS"

                                 PHOTO BY W.L.M.
                                       

THE "OLDEST TRICK IN THE BOOK"

O has there ever

    before in the 

         world

been SUCH A FISH!

Pampered, petted,

    plied with perch

         'n 'poles

Fat and lazy, lives in

    his own enclave---

a deluxe, custom pool

With an awning

     shading it

and away from the 

      hoi polloi---

run-of-the-mill old carp

     and mud catfish

Comes out for posing 

    publicity photos 

of "BIG FISH CAUGHT,"

    "The oldest trick---

         in the book."

Who is he, anyway?

     Name's "FRED."

("Puttin' on a little weight

     in the middle?"

there Fred?)

************************

BY MIL

MILS PLACE

6-18-16

GRANDAD'S POCKET KNIVES

A HUNDRED YEARS OLD?


My Grandad Walter gave me my first pocket knives when I

was age five, or younger. 

I couldn't even open them with my little fingers. 

The white-handled-one on the right came first. It

was his SPARK PLUG chaw-cutting tobacco knife.

He broke the points off and dulled it good and proper. I had

admired it every time he cut a chaw. And one day he hugged

me and said: "Here's your knife...keep  it your whole life. 

Someday you can have a sharp one."

He was an Irish man from back around Hamilton, Texas.

Came to Dawson County to farm cotton and raise six kids. 

Settled around Pumpkin Center, north of Lamesa, in a drafty 

old house, with not much heat.

The whole family got the 1919 flu and neighbors had to come 

by and leave soup on the splintery wooden porch.

He could sing tenor, and taught church singing schools. He wrote

songs and I have a box full.

When I was two, he'd walk the sandy Lamesa streets five blocks,

collect me, and we'd walk the five blocks back to his house...we'd

put strings around horned toads and I'd lead them around.

He was quite taken with me and wrote a song called "The Daring

Little Robber." The "little robber" was me---I had stolen his heart.

He had LTBS...."LOW TOLERANCE FOR  B.S." which I was to

inherit. He wrote a poem "POLITICS AT THE  COTTON GIN."

Sometime after the first knife, he gave me the second one (on the

left above.)  It was a good knife, with a little bit of point...but
dulled for my safety.

He was a good Christian man who raised all his kids to love God.

He many times asked me: "Have you trusted Jesus?"

He passed away at age 76. Cotton farmers, or any farmers, from

those times lived hard lives, raised big families, and were worn out

by 55.

Close to the end end of his life, we were gathered one Christmas

and having a fun family time...and someone said "Let's get Grandad

to sing," and they talked him into singing a hymn...from his rocker he

sang:

"Leaning, leaning, 

Safe and secure from all alarms

Leaning, leaning...

Leaning on the Everlasting Arms."

I was only about eleven when that happened and didn't  realize 

that the old hymn was based on the  Bible verse, Deuteronomy 33:27...

     "The eternal God is thy refuge and underneath are the Everlasting Arms."

That great hymn I was to lead congregations in singing...a

thousand times. But that was all ahead...

Just two---maybe hundred-year-old pocket knives...from USA

history...from hard times...from long ago in our great country...

when people had little...but were happy with life...

They have been dull ever since I got them...but it's okay...they 

carry great memories.

*****************

BY MIL

MEMORIAL DAY

2016

THAT BLACK SNAKE

Maybe he

    was a good 

         snake

Maybe bad

The boy

     didn't think

          to ask

After all, 

      Black Mambas

           some of 'em

come in black

He'd already kilt

    two Corals

         on his place 

Black is not

    a happy color

          for snakes

And lurking in 

     peoples' garages

           is 

Not a good plan

"Wrong place, 

       wrong time,

    Mr. Mamba"

He's gone

     to a happier 

          place

A four-ten did it

    nicely

But scarred the 

     garage floor.

*********************

Mil

5 June 2016

(A poem, written in the style of the

   great William Carlos Williams.

       whom I knew nothing about

          until the 1976 American

            Best Books, came out 

               in leather.)

(See Williams' THE RED WHEELBARROW)

A "BONK" AND A "MOON"

Early June morn

    Sun up and bright

I'm at my "writing window"

     barely up

The grain feeder is but

    five feet away

beckoning the birds

    "Come, partake!"

I, musing, was startled

      by a  LOUD BONK,

A  big bird had bumped the

      window!

And was on the grain, his

      beak busy,  and with all

his jerky motions, checking me

     through the glass!

I was still, and watched.

It was a  beautiful white-winged

     dove, size of a little

chicken, blue and white showing

     under his folded wings

Truly a masterpiece from the 

     Creator.

Tho' a little worried about me

      He was enjoying his breakfast

WHEN a lithe slender cute girl dove

      Fluttered in with a furious fanfare

She landed on a bush not two feet 

     away from him....and peeped something

I could not make out

Then she took off and he turned and

     leaned away from me, and over the grain,

He grabbed a beak-full. and in the

      process

MOONED ME,

       big time...and then he left

with a swoosh.

I think she had said:

      "Your coffee is ready!"

********************

BY MIL

15 JUNE 2016

0733 HOURS

A HEARING AIDS LAMENT

OLD ADAGE: "NEVER WATCH THOSE WHO...

    MAKE YOUR SAUSAGE, LAWS, OR

         HEARING AIDS..."

    *****************************

There must be an awful lot 

     of sweaty, tedious, exacting,

            challenging hard work

And raw material galore, and maybe

     overtime?

Goes into a pair of those little silly

    things that stick in your ear---

        ta help ya hear

"How much are they nowadays,"

      ya say...to the tech...(then sit 

           down on that 

                stool for the bad news...)

And ya know, those guys have been

     sent to school---"DICKER 101..."

YES! They know how to "dicker" prices!

"Well, it depends...iff'n ya want 

     THE VERY BEST, 

            or THE ECONOMY ONES."

"They run from $2800-$6000" 

      the guy says.

(Like when the Chinese shyster held the abacus

    up for Don Knotts to check, in

       "THE SHAKIEST GUN IN THE WEST.")

Try dickering that quote....

"Well, one thing's for sure," I say. 

     "None of those pinto-bean-size

           deals, on a string, that'll

    get lost in my ear, for me!"

"Give me the good-old-fashioned-ones---

     you know, with amplifier 

           over the ear...besides, I've got

    some size thirteen batteries left."

"How much'll that be?" I asked, getting

      set to dicker,

"An' don't forget, I may just run over to

     COSTCO, where they cut deals"

           I remind him, "and compare."

Ah, that Boy had a glass-eye, I know it...

     in his right eye I saw sympathy 

         for an old-timer who was about

  to go on a dog-food-diet...so's to

        just be able to hear...

(And all because BE had become a 

      whisperer in her later years...)

for this man with a heart, said: "It'll

     be XXX an' I'll thow in two

         month's of size thirteen

              batteries!! 

"Glory-ah, Glory-ah !!!"

      Were the angels a' singing

   in heaven!?

We signed up, my second pair.

     They'll be here in a day

          or two..."RUSH..."

Maybe a grand of the cost

    is in that "RUSH Mailing"

        of those heavy things!

I pondered all this mysterious 

   business on the way home...

Hearings aids...$2800-$6000

More'n I made in a year,

     for a few hard years...

Half what our first house cost...

Our first new Chevy was $2700

Out second new Chevy was $3800

Our new '72 Chevy 3/4 Ton Custom

      Camper (still own) was $5000

You could once buy a half section

     of prime cotton or wheat land

           for less than $6000

"Why are hearing aids so "absorbent?"

     as my NY friend used to say.

"The answer my friend, is blowin'

     in the wind...

The answer is blowin' in the wind."

-----------------

BY MIL

6/13/16

"THE THINGS THAT MAKE US HAPPY....DON'T COST A DIME."

                                    "Jeremiah"

"THE THINGS THAT MAKE US HAPPY...

          DON'T COST A DIME."

Didja' ever think about it?

Most things that make us happy

     don't cost a dime.

It's true.

Up early, and I sit on my nice

      wood deck, with

My sweet, gentle, loyal lady...

      Ever-by-my-side lo these

           many years

And we're sipping hot coffee,

      breathing clean, fresh 

          air, 'an just relaxing...

              sharing the gift

                  of time

The bright sun in the blue sky,

       lighting the world and

            warming us costs us

                nothing

The big beautiful white clouds are

       beginning to billow up, as

            the morning warms

We can almost feel the sun's energy

      creeping into our bones

A fish jumps in our pond!

     Have we got a trout?

Birds are singing, in the trees

      and an old raven is 

           soaring about

A turtle is creeping across our

     green lawn, and he is in

           no hurry

   Old Jeremiah, our beloved frog

         out in the pond, thinks

    he's a preacher...and is at it

          again with the bored fish

You can hear a lonesome tractor

      motor, somewhere far off 

          in the distance

          

Wild turkeys are pecking around over

      by the trees...little ones tagging

          along...and not paying us

              any attention

My garden is looking good, especially in

      this cool morning air...need to

          put a little water on our

                artichokes, I reckon

A coupla' rabbits are hopping around,

     trying to figure a way to get thru

          the fence into our green beans

That corn doesn't look like much now

      but just wait a month...and butter

          will be drippin' off a roasting ear

Tempted to back out my '42 Mustang,

      my onliest expense...and listen

          to that throaty motor, 

                 a' revving

A famous poet once said: "God's in His heaven..."

      and somebody else said "the Man upstairs..."

Why God is enveloping us all, everyday,

      and empowering us...

He's right here.

****************

A POEM FOR  AN OLD FARMER

      

By Mil

June 6, 2016

MY GRANDDAUGHTER, THE PRO PHOTOGRAPHER

Ah, that granddaughter

     of mine

           is a PRO

at at least two things

Once a Famous-Coffee-

    Company manager

        now she knows

all flavors of all coffees

     ever conceived in

          this world

even the seven dollar ones

Seems like nearly every 

      photo I have 

          of her

she is sipping something

    and looking very 

           contented

I hope some of it

     is DECAF.

Th' other pro thing

     is a biggie, for she has

          the eye, and the skills

to become a world-class

        sports photographer

If not sampling coffee, she's 

      carrying around that big

           telephoto lens

hooked to that little-bitty camera

And you should see her photos!

Baseball bats a' swinging, football

    QB's passing, receivers leaping,

         basketball guys dunking,

track hurdlers hurdling,  lady swimmers

    a' diving.... you know the shots!

Close play at home, man a'sliding...

     Out at first? check the photo...

           Jumping catch in 

center field...against the fence...

And she works like a phantom

    You don't even see her

          She knows how to move

And capture the peak moment of

     the action, in a gifted way

          like the great

Cartier-Bresson of France

     in the thirties.

(Granddad loves.)

*****************

BY MIL