Rhyme & Reason - a reason to rhyme

 Many moons ago, late teen years, 'Youth group' leader, now passed, An elder in my church, then, His cancer, took him, fast. Good friend to eldest brother, Knew ALL our fam-il-y,  One day before my birthday, Those Heaven's Gates, he'd see. Unbeknownst to me, years earlier, My parents, he had told, "Your Colin has the 'Gift of Helps' He'd seen that gift unfold. Our church choir, I had joined it At seventeen years old, Didn't know what part I'd sing there, "Sound like a bass", was told. So when I'd joined the church choir, Sat 'tween two men, one blind, Th'other, he'd suffered a Stroke, In middle, you'd, me, find. Back then, I still had seizures, Though role, with them, I took, Of caring for those members, Like opening hymn book. The blind guy, I would lead in, Remind which hymn, was due, Th'other, hymn book open, T'whatever hymn was due. Aft' career in caring over, It came eas'ly to me, I STILL see ...

 "A diamond is just a piece of coal, that            did well under pressure" People often grumble About, how they were raised, Perhaps they may do something grand, End up, not being praised. They may have had to struggle long And sore, to make ends meet, While coveting their neighbour who  Could relax more, raised feet. These same folk, admire jewelry, Without full story known, The work, of how the gems 'became' To make that stone that's glowin' With some great fete accomplished,  A piece of common coal Becomes a precious jewel, That end game, is its goal. So when in life you struggle, While others 'breeze right through' Just think about that "jewel" That's being made, through you. "A diamond is just a piece of coal, that               did well under pressure"

As youngest in the family, A dozen, halved, - all boys, We learned to share together, Both clothing, also toys. Bought good, so 'twould last longer, With solely, one wage earned, My father's mother stayed at home, So that is how he learned. Alas these days, all vestments,  Once, made to last, don't now, A few times on the body, The seams open, somehow. The stitching, loose or broken, Some holes appear, too soon, Some folk know nought 'bout sewing, So garments, gone, like balloon. Just recently, with a friend, A pair of shoes, on sole, Some glue or stitches missing, Beginning of a hole. Some power glue, happened to have, So asked him for the shoe, Restuck the sole to leather, Will do, a year or two. Richard's (Fergus Place) shoe.

One fruit I LOVE for sust'nance, Is long and curved, starts, green. Then changes to a yellow  When, ripe for eating, seen. Acquaintances, I do have, Who, 'when-one' black mark, on skin, Is seen on their banana,  Will throw into the bin. I know this person's mother,  A older gal, retired, So I made a comparison  To make my point desired. Told her, some folk get 'age marks' When older, they become, Though doesn't mean their useless Still have a heart, and some. So when those 'marked' bananas Were ready for her trash, Kept them for me, for eating, It sure saved me, some cash.

As the youngest sibling All six of us dear boys, Many 'hand-me-downs' received  From clothes, and even toys. When last three, with our parents, A country drive, would go, The two above me, they did get  A seat by the window. So I was stuck in middle, I wasn't giv'n a choice, I yearned to b'able to have one, But couldn't, my say, voice. So 'piggy in the middle' For aye, it seemed, was I, Even at home, on sofa,  To complain, dare not I. Now older, with more 'say so' I actually prefer  The mid seat, car or sofa, A sense of safety, there. Encased between two others,  Protection, all around, Shielded by those bodies, 'Security', there, found.

Since youngest son of six, I am, An uncle, at age nine, I  recall many times, my folk Had 'baby sitting' time. The eldest nephew, had toy dog, A 'comforter' for he, His 'Wowie',  with him everywhere, Wherever he would be. Out visiting grandparents With his dear Mum and dad, 'Wowie' would go with him, Thankfully, t'was a fad. As years went by, the 'wowie' To pieces, fell apart, 'Til only one ear, lasting, Still held it, close to heart. So "part of wowie" kept him, Subdued, happy and calm, Something, he could hold to, It eased his sense of qualm. In life, we have a "Comforter" Beside us every hour, Christ, sent to us, THE "Comforter" To us, He is strong tower. Can depend on Him fully, He'll always have your end, With inner voice, call to him, HE's your dependable friend.

 I have this grand conundrum  For you educationalist, One, I know not th'answer to, I'm hoping you'll assist, When something does fall to the ground, Th'item, mentioned, first, The leaf, it did fall from the tree Rain fell from a cloudburst. However, that rule is not fixed, And this is my query, How do we know how to surmise  Which way the phrase should be. When water drop falls from a tap, For those ed'cationally equipped, Is it said that 'One drip dropped', or  Is it 'One drop dripped'?

 "Ruth's Fashion's" mother's , July 23rd turning 104 2 children, Roger, Cheryl 6 grands, Lily, Cooper, Max, Bo, Luka, Zach  Husband Dusty Curran, wed June 14th '47 London Ontario  Hobbies bowling golf, cards (euchre) acts like she doesn't know what cards to play, then beats others  Drinks Manhattans Attended Egerton Baptist got married there (nee Heathfield) Pet dog Pepe (poodle) She's  be Beautiful & full of love for her family  cherylhawken@hotmail.com The year was 1922 July, the twenty third, Five siblings and their parents, Some newborn tears, they heard. For baby Ruth had just been born, (There would be yet one more,) Quiet solitude, disappeared, Sure, parents ears were sore. Quite soon to school, she had to go, (It is a must, for all) She did excel, nay, blossomed, there, And yes, she had a ball. At twenty five, she married Her beau, Dusty, by name, To him she bore two children, Roger, then Cheryl, came. She loved to bowl, play cards, and gol...

 Sitting in a double room, St. Mary's hospital, Trouble with esophagus  With swallowing, et-al.  A double room, though solely me, It's quiet, so eerily, Though hopefully 'twill continue, A quiet night's rest, for me? Probably no doctor see 'til aft' breakfast, next day, Trust very soon I will get 'fixed' So I'll be on my way...... ......Back to my residence and friends, Then 'out for coffee', drive, Just hours away, - I miss them so, They make me feel alive. So do not take for granted, Those things you do, as 'norm' In just a blink, so much can change, If e'er you are 'off form'.

 I hope that you are happy, Your brother, would be mad, You KNEW Van-Breda's antics, Told, by your mom and dad. How they befriended seniors,  With family far, or none, Befriended and manipulated them,  So wealthy would become. In fact 'twas you who ME, informed  Before we even wed, I thought you would be wiser, Believing all 'twas said I never thought they'd sink so low, In their covetous run, But greed and spitefulness excels, Their own relations, shun? Whene'er the money has run dry, Which I alone did earn, You could never keep a job, Quite soon, I did THAT, learn. So when it's gone, you too'ill be cast Aside, forlorn, lonely, And WHEN it does, please do not come A-running back to me. You've had your chance and ruined it Believed your niece's lies, You've made your bed, lie in it, Your female kin, despise.

M  arching down the aisle with you,  I  dolising smile, C learly, LOVE was in the air, H  ad been, for a while. A  t the alter, Michael stood, E xcitedly, yet calm, L  ove was rampant in his eyes, A n adorising balm. N  ext "Who gives this girl away?" D  ad handed, to your boy, A sweet young girl, now all grown up, U biquitous  with joy, D azzlingly, her upright groom, R  eceived with love and glee, E veryone was 'googly eyed' Y  es, even, your 'daddy'.                                                  Colin Ross 07/07/32

 A letter to my daughter, A memory or two Of th'day when I gave you away, I heard you say "I do". While you were so excited, Your mom and I were glad, Though with anticipation, We had our moments, sad. Reflecting on your childhood, A babe, school days, mid teens, You were a daughter, loving, No rebel, dressed in jeans. The house that day, chaotic, Your mom, bridesmaids and you, Proudly, yet with sadness, I Would hear you say "I DO". You made me a grandfather, Three times, both girl and boy, Your mom and I adored them, They filled our hearts with joy. A special anniversary, You've reached the "Silver Years" This proud, delighted father Is sending you  "Three cheers"                            Composed by Colin Ross Married 07/07/07 Poem due 07/07/2032

To the tune Going Home Just three words, meanings change, D'pending who it's to, Human being, animal, Meanings, - there's a few. There has to be a noun, Person, place or thing, Holiday,  food to eat Creator, praise to sing. Love, it can be amorous, Shared between just two, Or just 'ppreciation for Some deeds, that you do. ^Can also, be a sentiment, Giv'n to friends or pets, Saying it, hearing it, 'Tis the best it gets. Hearing it, gives a boost To th'one to whom it's sent, Be assured, it is free, GIVEN, it's not leant. ^S'if you hear me saying it, Know, 'tis said with care, I 'preciate your 'friendliness', When I can, it share. Say it, then, whene'er you can, It is always due, :You can't say it oft' enough, Th'words are, "I love you":(2nd time slower, go up at th'end)

 While working in a Nursing Home, As P.S.W. I'd try my hand at anything, To show what I could do. At bath day, for the females, Oft' times, when hair, washed,  was,  The bather, she would set their hair, Give resident, a buzz. The bosses mother, there, did live, A male to bathe, was 'NO', Howe'er, the girl who'd set her hair, That day was a 'no show'. The worker, when the bath was done, Forlorn, aft' bath, appeared, I o'erheard her dilemma, And so I volunteered. Assured her that, of my dear mom,  Man' times, had set her hair,  And so, with her,  nothing to lose, She sat upon the chair. Family of the residents, When visiting, that day, Where tot'lly flabbergasted  With my 'coiffeur' display. A few hours later, when 'twas dry, The hairpins, I removed, And then I brushed and styled the hair, She really did approve. The NEXT week, usual girl was there, Though aft' bath had been done,  Brought out the hairpins, comb and brush, ...

         The Circle of Life As "single digit" children, Still not quite fully grown, Until in double digits, Short pants was all we'd own. We YEARNED to wear those long pants, "All 'growed up' " we would be, Perhaps be treated better, Sometimes, the kids, don't see. In second'ry education, It was a 'must' f'rus guys, Not to be seen in short pants, That clothing, we'd despise. Now older, in retirement, When weather's warm or hot, We LONG to put on short pants, To show just what we've got.

  The quiet man who works so hard, No grumbling, no woes, You'll often hear him whistling Everywhere he goes, Repairs, removals, touch-ups too, In a flash, they're done, An urgent chore will see him, Walk rapidly, won't run.

As the years are passing I've noticed, traits, a few, That in-nate-ly I'm doing, My father did so, too. He ne'er liked to be 'en retard' For 'ppointments, specified date, "I'd rather be an hour early, Than e'en one minute late" If I've been asked to give a ride At a specific time, I will be ready earlier, To me, late, is a crime. I put myself in their shoes, Them thinking 'will he come?' So earlier, I will be, Five minutes and then some.  What if they did sleep too long, Think, 'my appointment missed?' I'll be there and ready, Leave early, I insist. Ev'n if I'm the one who waits For pickup, at my door, I will be ready earlier, Few minutes, even more. I oft' think of my father, Thank him, that trait, did give, So I could be a blessing, While on this earth, I live. So when I'm needed somewhere, Like dad, I'll be the one, Though 'tis a good thing to proclaim, I AM, my father's son.

Many folk have phobias A fear of this or that, Arachnophobia, spiders,  Chirop-tophobia, - bat Amaxo-phobia is the fear Of riding in a car, Hodo-phobia, that's the fear   Of distance, going too far One I'm pleased, no longer have, Gloso-phobia, bring, The fear of public speaking, Brain freeze, or stammering. Claustrophobia, 'closed in' space, And believe this fact, it's proved, Naturists have "Clothes-trophobia" When coverings, they've removed.

 Oh to be in double figures, Wouldn't feel, I was a child, Be giv'n responsibilities, Would not be acting wild. Oh to be an older guy, Be working, driving car, Pick up girls in Cadillac Now THAT, would have some power. Oh to have some more free time, Family and work, take all, I dreamt, when older I would be, That I would have a ball. Oh to be retired from work, That daily 9-5, Do the things I, want to do, I'd feel I was alive. Oh to be so young again, I miss those, gone, beyond, In reality, looking back 'pon,  Of those days, I was quite fond.

 S pring,  commences longer days  U psetting winters plans,  N o more shovelling , frigid cold  S now, with frostbit hands.  H eat, though still not VERY warm,  I ncreases with each day,  N ight time hours get shorter,  E ventually, out to play.  S ometimes slanderous, hurtful, frank,  P omposity, excels,  I nsulting, harmful, brutal,  T riggering cautious bells.  E mphasizing cruelty  F lippent to the core  U psetting everyone around,  L ibelous, and more.  S pringboard ready, firm and taut,  O ver, head and heels,  M omentum spinning me around  E ventually landing on the ground,  R otating like cartwheels.  S piraling through air, so high,  A ppearing lithe and sprite,  U ltimating back to ground,  L anding, as was planned, upright,  T o rapturous roars, be crowned.