You beautiful, mysterious globe!
I, a victim of gravity,
Cannot imagine how you stay
Poised and moving,
Along with uncounted other worlds
Of various sizes and atmospheres.
My mind is so limited,
It challenges me so.
As I slam into barriers
Preventing me from finding out,
Where do we go?
I’d like to have a self cleaning rug.
One that shovels up dirt and germs.
I enjoy looking at them,
Beautiful and plush.
But always think of what is being nurtured there,
In each and every fiber.
A regular forest of creatures.
Microscopic though they be.
You beautiful, useful carpet,
No longer used by me.
Magnify the carpet,
And you will surely see trillions,
No, more, of universes filled with
Towns, cities, flowers and trees.
Far beneath my feet…
Gives me the willies, and also the creeps!
Steam the carpet!
Creatures in there are happy it rained.
Now their crops can grow,
In microscopic villages where all
The microscopic creatures live.
Great gloom falls over the village,
As the noisy, nasty vacuum cleaner
Sucks up many villages at a time!
“In time we will rebuild!” They said,
About the tiny flakes of chocolate chip cookie,
That made someone a home.
I am so fascinated re:
Printing in a book
Going from another’s mind to mine.
Print translates words into ideas,
Placed by ink onto paper.
Where my mind picks up
Those ink-laden thoughts,
And forms them into
Visible ideas and wondrous stories.
One person cannot get anything done, you say?
Well, just take a gander
At what one tiny snowflake can do,
When it bands with other like-minded substances
To make of it a blizzard!
Yesterday I thought some thoughts.
Where are they today?
Are they still in existence somewhere?
If so, what happens
When the place they go fills up?
Do they get all jumbled?
And do I reuse them once again?
Or…does somebody else?
I heard that you sewed some water,
Just the other day.
Pulled along with a golden thread
Inside a glistening silver needle.
Try as I may,
I couldn’t make sense
Of how that moving water could stay!
How do you mend water?
It doesn’t cut.
It never makes lines.
It cannot make a seam.
Not once do they appear.
If water seeks its own level,
Then how do you try to sew a seam
When water cannot be split,
Or even cut with scissors?
Molecules of water, good old H2O,
Can never mix with molecules
Composing thread and needle.
You want to know why?
Because I told you so!
What a wonderful day!
Playing the rousing Marches of John Philip Sousa!
Celebrating our freedom across the land!
Families and friends all together!
Boats on the river!
Flags being waved by
Little children with shining faces!
This is our beautiful and our marvelous Country!
Made so by both our valiant Military, and our Citizens!
I thank all of our generations of Military
Who fought to make this country free…
Those who came home and those who did not.
Happy 240th Birthday,
United States of America!
May your Flag ever wave
“O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave!”