Random Sunday Observations

There may be more welcome things on a very hot afternoon that a very cold beer, there MAY be.


The wait for the next book in a series of novels you are hooked on is endless.  And frustrating.

The amount of mental energy available NEVER matches the task at hand.  (At least in my case.  Rarin' to go when it's time to sleep, and worn out when there's stuff to do...)

Some days your optimistic approach to the clearance clothing racks is rewarded.  Other days, you leave convinced that decent clothes may never be obtained at reduced cost. (Today was a good day.  I scored a really nice peasant blouse for $17 at the BX...)

The odds of your voice failing you are directly proportional to how exposed your voice part is in the difficult section of the anthem...

Even before the season officially changes, you can see changes in the quality of light, the color of the sky, the texture of the air... here lately, hints of Autumn are everywhere.

I'm one of the youngest 55 year old ladies I know.  Lou Kohlman is another young one.

Physical therapy is an ongoing process...

The older you get, the more built in barometers you have.

Sometimes I let people think they've convinced me of the truth of  an untruth.  They need to believe it so badly, I just let them go on. Not my job to call them on it.

For all its advances, modern technology still behaves like a two year old when you ask two different manufacturers' products to interact with one another.

For every year you age past 20, time speeds up by a factor of 10 every year, until you are like me, in the 2010's thinking the '80s was only 15 years ago...

The number of things on the "to do" list will always exceed the amount of time available to accomplish them.

Any witty thing you think of will fly right out of your mind the minute you sit down to write it!

 Some more poems.  Written just this evening as I sat here.  I am off and on helping Matt wrap the ribs he is prepping for smoking, and listening to the Wicked Tinkers in honor of Craig Ferguson's birthday, and checking Twitter and Face Book.
Promised I would keep writing, Michael. 

Enough of my randomness, here they are:





Passing Time
 C.K. Armistead 5/16/2013

And another day
Has rounded to its end.
Another week is gone,
Another month,
Another year.
And all as quietly
As a moment
Slipped away
When we weren't
Looking.
But I can't regret
A moment lost
Looking
Into your eyes
Seeing the love
And the wonder.
You teach me
How to look
How to see
What is there
To be found
In a fleeting
Moment.

Magic Things
C.K. Armistead 5/16/2013

Journeys to take
Adventures to have
Friends to make
Hurts to salve.

Thoughts to share
Rhymes to enjoy
Puzzles to dare
Strategies deploy.

Facts to learn
Feelings to understand
Passions to burn
Facts on hand.

All for yourself
Whenever you look
Upon the shelf
And take down
A Book.

Homeward
By C.K. Armistead 5/16/2013

Plaintive the cry
Moving the drum
As the piper calls
And the band moves us on.

Misty the hills
Cloaked in heather
And mystery
Drawing me.

Never have I seen
With my own eye
Scotland's hills
But yet they call.

Somewhere in me
There is a Scot
That longs once again
Those hills to see.

I only know this:
The pipes, they move
My heart with joy,
With pride.

The drums,
They move my feet.
To march on
To dance on

Homeward
To the land
I love
But have never seen.


It's In My Genes
By
C.K. Armistead
5/16/2013
So tired I can barely stand
But my feet just can't keep still
When they play the jigs and reels
I have to move!
 Like some magical drug
The sound of the pipes,
The beat of the drum
Make my heart leap!
 A typical American
Pretty much a "mutt"
But most of the mix
Is Celtic.
 Scots, Irish, Welsh
And some French.
An odd bit of English
And a German, maybe.
 But mostly Scots
And wild Irishmen
And some Welsh
For the singing.
Piper, play on
And I will follow.
And pay you well
With good whisky
And a smile.

These last two were inspired by The Wicked Tinkers and their fabulous playing.  It truly moves my soul.  (And my feet!)
 Hope you enjoyed them.

Random Compositions Written Today

Today's Poem
C.K. Armistead, 5/6/13
(For Matthew, obviously.)

Don't you dare leave me
You have to stay
Don't you dare grieve me
My heart dies that way.
Why did you scare me?
You know I love you.
Why try to dare me
To put up with you?

You know I'm staying
I've been here so long
You know I'm not playing
I'm trying to be strong.
You've been beside me
Through loss and pain
Been there to guide me
Back through the rain.

We can't change it now
The way has been set
We made our vows
We've never broken them yet.
You must survive, Love,
Even if I do not,
You are the prize, Love
That my poor heart bought.



Time Traces
C.K. Armistead 5/6/13

Time is but a whisper,
A phantom on the wind.
You think it runs forever
But your share of it will end.
In youth it moves so slowly,
You think you've got all day.
With age it dawns abrubtly,
You've whiled it all away.

These fingers once so elegant,
Now knotted with age and bent
This jaw once firm and lovely
Now softened, hanging loosely
My eye once sharp and clear
Grows much cloudier every year
My beauty once a truth of me
Now gone with the youth of me.

But time leaves a gift in its wake
If we but look to find it
Experience profound to make
Our memories to bind it.
These hands so many things have done
This jaw set firm too many times
The love that through my years has run
Lost beauty far outshines.


Fickle Spring

C.K. Armistead 5/6/13

Ah, fickle Spring,
Though flowers do bloom
And birds do sing,
Though rabbits do ramble
And squirrels scramble bold,
Yet do you hide your warmth,
And pelt us with cold.
Cold your winds, again frae the North,
Fickle your favors to those on this Earth.



These were written in just the last little while,, as I sat here and stared at the page.  Thanks to Michael M. Ornstein, who brought up poetry on Twitter today, and got me in a poetic state of mind.