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I wish I could think of a better idea for this post.

The last thing I was surprised by isn’t my story to tell.

I don’t feel like I should give a review on the three books I’m reading since I haven’t finished any of them yet.

My story about the time I slept on the Couch of Death has been posted for years. The last time was almost a repeat of the same story, and I didn’t know if a repost is against Writer’s Workshop rules.

I have not posted a picture to Instagram this month. The one photo I posted in April was an old one, and I have not tackled any spring cleaning.

Like I said, I wish I could think of a better idea for this post.

Maybe next time.

Mama’s Losin’ It
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The sun sinks in a blue sky.

The way the pale, orange glow it’s kind enough to leave in its wake shines through the trees reminds me of the last embers of a campfire on a creek bank.

It’s the last light of a long day in South Alabama, and I’m on the front porch to watch it fade into darkness.

I’m not alone.

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This poem filled with pairs proved easy to write,

after I saw what I saw last night.

I watched a dad sit down in a chair,

and hold his two daughters, who sat with him there. 

One of the girls held onto a book,

but dad opened it up and all three took a look.

It wasn’t just any old story or fable,

On that pair of pages, laid flat on a table.

This wasn’t a tale of planes or a park,

but the story of Noah, and a boat called an ark.

There were on those pages a few things to find,

Among all of the animals, two of a kind.

Pictures of pages from “Noah’s Ark and Other Bible Stories, First Look and Find” from Phoenix International Publications, Inc.

A hammer, a saw, a ruler for size,

all spied by the gazes from three pairs of eyes.

They found everything on the floating zoo,

which the animals boarded, two by two.

I know all of those pairs surely caused some congestion,

but still — I can’t help it — I have a question.

Answer me this, or I’ll never know,

why did this guy show blueprints to a hippo?

When the story was finished, goodnights were said,

then mom and dad put the children to bed.

When it comes to kids, that pair surely wins,

For they have a young son, and their daughters are twins. 

Mama’s Losin’ It

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It’s Wednesday again, and this week’s writers’ workshop has me thinking of a simpler time when my biggest problems were multiplication tables. It was the best of times without the worst, and I can’t wait to get back. Climb in, sit back and hold on because, in the words of Dr. Emmett Brown, “If my calculations are correct, when this baby hits eighty-eight miles per hour… you’re gonna see some serious –“

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