Tid Bits . . . . .

Today is a day for tid-bits. A little of this, a little of that.

Something I saw online reminded me of an experience from mychildhood,  and I see kids still experience it today. I’ll bet you have,done this also.  I’m going to guess it was your uncle or neighbor, someone who got a kick out of teasing you, who called you over  and said “See if you can do this.”

He then asked you to sit down, lift your right foot and begin moving it in circles, going to the right. When you had it going he asked you to continue and at the same time to raise your right hand and draw  the letter six in the air.

Did you try it, after reading this? Even though you also tried it years ago? And you still can’t do it? Weird, isn’t it? I guess I thought that with age we might figure it out

I believe I also thought that with age I would figure out the mysteries of God and Jesus and Heaven and Hell and how to win millions and how babies are formed in our tummies, and  who killed Kennedy.

But without mysteries perhaps we would be so bored. We would look at life as our teenagers sometimes look at us when we try to impress them. They look and then say things like “Yeah. I’ve seen that before. So what, Big deal. Yawn ” Maybe they roll their eyes, even while fingering highly important fact-filled communications to their friends.

 

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I purposely sat down today and said I’m going to read what the poetsare writing these days. No doubt I will learn something, I said. I went online and read poems in current poetry magazines and in intellectual magazines, poems accepted by the very best, poems that won contests, poems for which the poet was paid a lot of money.

Of course they were all free verse.

And most were free of anything at all that made sense.

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Having said that, I looked back in my files at some I’ve written in odd moments and perhaps they are odd also in their own old-fashioned way. But it’s free verse!

Please bear with it. I mean the poem ts  meant to be single-spaced but Word thinks otherwise and will not let me change the setting.  Word gives me nothing but problems.

 

The Collector

As I  went searching

through the years

I picked up treasures,

things to use or

things to show

and to admire

but also little bits

of wisdom

earned and stored

until my house was

full to overflowing

and I must sort and

use or share

until my house is empty

once again because

at last I’m full.

What I kept  to use is useless,

What I kept to show is tarnished,

But what I kept in my heart is true,

will go with me

and will be there

forever.

• Doris Markland