Poems from my Archives. Originally Published 10/05/2011

It came on to rain at my house today
the dogs who had all gone out to play
came rushing back in with fear in their eyes
and it took me a while to realize
they had not seen rain for months and months
and for them, this strange phenomenon
this wet stuff falling from the skies
was hard for them to realize
that Mother Nature, after all this time
was showing them the way it should be
and that one hundred degree days are now history
and with one stroke of her brush, one wave of her wand
we may be making up for lost time
and more, much more of this wet stuff we’ll see
as this summer goes down in history
as the hottest on record since records were kept
and that humans who for losses had wept
that now it is Fall and with any luck
much more of the wet stuff will come our way
to make up for the small amount today.

We humans think we are so smart
with our historical resources and our art
our technical skills and our flight to the moon
and all the other things that soon
makes us top dog on this planet called Earth
and yet, we do not have the final say
when it comes to things not going our way
Mother Nature is the controlling force
using her might as a resource to bring on the rain
and other things too, thunder, lightning all the bad stuff
as if to say, “Rain is not enough
wait and see what I have in store” before you start asking for more.

We humans are so feeble and puny
when Mother Nature vents her fury
we are but pawns in this great game of life
as we struggle and strain to manage the strife
that Mother Nature can bring and we have little control
over what it is she decides for us all
but wait, life is so very sweet
and with this in mind we keep
getting ready to face insurmountable odds
what each day brings, whatever the cost
we can do it, we can, we will not live in fear
as with nature, we have learned life is dear
and we will live each day on this earth, without strife
as though it’s the first day of the rest of our life.

For tomorrow brings another day
and hopefully rain will come our way.

Be kind to your Mother.

© Francis Allcorn
Photo Artist

Poems from my Archives. Originally Published 11/08/2011

The old man lay in his bed not moving much except in his head. His thoughts were whirling round and round as he remembered things and places, thoughts of oh so long ago when he was young and all the faces of those he had known he tried to recall but alas his memory could not relate to all of those whose fate he did not know or those of him as between them many years had passed and for this old man would soon be the last. For most of his friends were already gone to that distant place beyond where old men go when they are through with this life here on earth.

The old man lay in his bed thinking of all of the pets he had over the years they came in all sizes, dogs and cats, horses with bridles, saddles for riding and then there was Zippo, his faithful old horse who was just like a dog, would follow him around and nuzzle him looking for goodies and hand outs of the kind that only horses find, good enough to eat. Zippo lived to be thirty six years old and right at the end his spirit was strong and only the ravages of time slowed him down and he died in the arms of his long time friend.

The old man lay in his bed and wondered of the wives he had had when he was much younger, of the good times and bad, their beauty and grace, the way they moved that caused him to ponder and think of them then not just as women but of someone who he would like to be living for the rest of his life but as it turns out, he is alone in his bed with his thoughts as things did not go as planned and each of them left for a different life no more to be his wife and not here to comfort him as he lay die-ing on the bed.

The old man lay in his bed and his thoughts turned to the life he had led when he was younger much younger and his skill on the fields with a soccer ball that to him meant more than work or women or any of those things that make living on earth a part of the dreams of success but to him his greatest wish that was not forthcoming was to be a player with skills so outstanding that everyone knew his name.So he did what he knew he could do and that was to share a part of him to coach little kids in the arts of playing that wonderful game that had given him pleasure and was so much of his leisure. He hoped that this part of his journey was not wasted and that the kids he taught would go on to greatness not necessarily with a ball at their feet but life in general as they get to meet all of things that life throws at them and as they grow into men, somewhere in their memories are thoughts of the old man who lay die-ing whose race was run and who handed the baton to them.

The old man lay in his bed and remembered when he was a lad how irresistible were members of the opposite sex and how good or bad were his encounters with so many of them over the years. It has to be said that all were most willing and captivated by the charm he had then and even if a husband they had were ready to a take a chance to spend some time with this interesting man who it has to be said faced the wrath of of the man, the husband of this particular wife who for whatever reason was out and about and looking to seize on any man who gave them a glance and who was willing to take the chance.

The old man lay in his bed and lifted the covers so that he could see his body and how wasted it was no muscles not much more than skin and bone and he remembered when his body was a beautiful sight with muscles that were taut and tight that rippled at the slightest movement of the time when he could run like a deer and jump so high that he felt he was flying in the sky. He remembers that as time moved on, how much harder he worked to keep the shape he used to be in. Muscles turned to fat where before the muscles rippled under his skin. Alas no more would this old man be a thing of beauty for all to see instead the covers on the bed were pulled up high as far as his head so that the shrunken body soon would be and a thing of history.

The old man lay on the bed his thoughts turned to what would happen when eventually he would breath his last breath and he hoped that in the end, his passing would be no more than a formality and people would mourn at his funeral and say he was a good man and boy could he play for it has to be said that this old man now dead would be remembered most for the life he had led on the soccer fields daring to create strife with those around him both good and bad and all the friends he had would say he tried hard to make others see the way, the difference between the night and the day and the wonderful life that he had.

The old man lay on the bed and thought, what time is it I need to be up. I have things to do people to see a life to live and more memories to create as this is another wonderful day and look it’s raining now that’s a switch, that’s good that’s great as we could use the rain to make things grow, make things green was that a horrible dream I just had or a premonition of things to come. Who cares, todays just begun and I intend to enjoy it as though it’s my last to hell with things that are in my past. When the day comes that I am due to meet my maker and hope its true that he looks kindly at an old sinner like me.

© Francis Allcorn
Photo Artist

Poems from my Archives. Originally Published 11/07/2011

It was a very windy day when the little boys came out to play their last league game of the season and though the wind was part of the reason that we managed to lose to a team, who, like us do dream of playing well and having a good time and hoping that their coach tells them that they played fine and it was a good game today.

These are the things that I said to the boys when after the game we sat around and talked of the joys of winning but better yet, and something we should not forget, the fun we had when we played today, the things that we did and in their own way, make up for losing four goals to two.

The two goals we scored were a joy to watch as Ian Shaw got on his horse and running hard and fleet of foot did place the ball beyond the reach of the other team’s goalie and in the net to bring us back from two nothing down to even the score and we thought we had a found a way to beat this other team today.

Alas it was not to be and although the boys tried mightily to tie the game up and playing hard, put shots on goal and defended well but at three to two, the score it seems was within in our reach but the impossible dream was shattered when in a desperate moment with the ball rebounding all over the place, did hit one of our players in the face and into the empty net it flew to let the other team win by four goals to two.

We talked about it after the game and we all agreed that as a team we played as well as we possibly could and that we should have played better but that it really didn’t matter because as a team we had fun today, we played with our team mates, our buddies and friends which makes it all worthwhile and better yet, lets see what goodies we have today, before we wend on our merry way home with  our families, our Moms and Dads, our sisters and brothers, our dog and our cat and all the good things that go with that and having friends on our soccer team is a bonus in life as it should be.

© Francis Allcorn
Photo Artist

Poems from my Archives. Originally Published 10/10/2011

I sat around at home today, wondering what I need do and say,
as I know there is no way,  as its hard to imagine that caught up I may be,
or who is it that I need to call, or e-mail or blog, I’m counting them all
and yet, there is something troubling me,
what it is I cannot yet recall. Darn this forgetful memory.

If I wait long enough it will return, or a walk to the other room, my doubts to affirm,
that something, just something needs to be done.
There is no way that it could possibly be, that I am caught up and my time is free,
to pursue whatever it is that strikes me.

© Francis Allcorn
Photo Artist

Poems from my Archives. Originally Published 10/05/2011

What, you say, what makes this day
any different in any way
well, for starters, I awoke
which is the best known way to start the day.

I lay for a while my mind in a whirl
what day is this as my mind plays tricks
is it Sunday or Monday or some other day
I’ll figure it out along the way
as we get ready to start another day

I look around and check the room
two cats, five dogs all ready to play
get up, they say, for this is the way
we want to start every day.

At the age seventy-six, life has a way of playing tricks.
If for some reason, my eyes do not open
when normally they should, I would have to assume that
in the night, my soul has gone for good.

Where it has gone I would not know
neither would I assume, that all my life
there has not been strife enough to suggest
that at the very best
where will I have eternal rest

No, it may well be that in my life
I have done enough good to equal the strife
created over the years.

So, if in the morning, I do not wake
will it be because of mistakes that over the years
I have made. or will it be that my time is up
and this old body has suffered enough
and is taking its final rest.

Ah, you say, what a beautiful day
the sun shines bright giving us light
to do the things that life holds for us
on this, another day.

Let’s see, what day is this, I have to think
about the things that I need to do. If I don’t get
the days correct, then a mess I will be in, that’s true

Well, I have finally figured out the day
and the things to do along the way
like feed my pets as I usually do
make breakfast for me and coffee too
like I have done many times before
same old things, but who keeps score
as long as I wake in the usual way
then every day is a beautiful day.

Life is beautiful. Enjoy it…

© Francis Allcorn
Photo Artist

Poems from my Archives. Originally Published 10/08/2011

It came on to rain at my house today
the dogs who had all gone out to play
came rushing back in with fear in their eyes
and it took me a while to realize
they had not seen rain for months and months
and for them, this strange phenomenon
this wet stuff falling from the skies
was hard for them to realize
that Mother Nature, after all this time
was showing them the way it should be
and that one hundred degree days are now history
and with one stroke of her brush, one wave of her wand
we may be making up for lost time
and more, much more of this wet stuff we’ll see
as this summer goes down in history
as the hottest on record since records were kept
and that humans who for losses had wept
that now it is Fall and with any luck
much more of the wet stuff will come our way
to make up for the small amount today.

We humans think we are so smart
with our historical resources and our art
our technical skills and our flight to the moon
and all the other things that soon
makes us top dog on this planet called Earth
and yet, we do not have the final say
when it comes to things not going our way
Mother Nature is the controlling force
using her might as a resource to bring on the rain
and other things too, thunder, lightning all the bad stuff
as if to say, “Rain is not enough
wait and see what I have in store” before you start asking for more.

We humans are so feeble and puny
when Mother Nature vents her fury
we are but pawns in this great game of life
as we struggle and strain to manage the strife
that Mother Nature can bring and we have little control
over what it is she decides for us all
but wait, life is so very sweet
and with this in mind we keep
getting ready to face insurmountable odds
what each day brings, whatever the cost
we can do it, we can, we will not live in fear
as with nature, we have learned life is dear
and we will live each day on this earth, without strife
as though it’s the first day of the rest of our life.

For tomorrow brings another day
and hopefully rain will come our way.

Be kind to your Mother.

© Francis Allcorn
Photo Artist

Poems from my Archives. Originally Published 10/02/2011

Yesterday, we played a game
we played, pretty much, just the same
as we have all this season long,
some good, some bad, some like a song
with movement fine and notes so sound,
it was hard to imagine that we did play
for us, in any other way.

For the longest time, the score was two to one
to the other team’s mark and them having fun
we hoped that at least a tie we could get
but from where and who, no one could bet.

Just when it looked like another loss it would be
Jack’s name will go down in Ranger history
as the goalie who scored the tie-ing goal,
and gave the team a share of the points that day
as his mighty kick did bounce its way
into the other teams goal.

That Jack on this day, a hero would be
not only did he save a penalty
but he let forth an almighty kick
that carried so far it was the pick
of all the kicks that happened this day
as it bounced not once but twice on its way
over the head of the other teams sweeper
past the outstretched hands of the despairing keeper.
and into the goal to the back of the net.

You can read the original blogs at https://pondblog2011.com

© Francis Allcorn
Photo Artist

Poems from my Archives. Published 09/18/2011

Do I need a new car, my mind is asking
the one that I have has been mine and is lasting
well since February of 2007.

It was not new when I bought it if cars have a birth
this one was born in 2003 so it was four when it came to me
a BMW by name, an X5 model that truth be known
is the nicest car I have ever owned.

It has on it thousands of miles of wear and tear
and travel to places with nary a care
it always goes where I want it to go
and I am hoping that it will continue to ride
like the good car it is, with me inside .

Do I need a new car, the question is asked
can it do anything different from the one from the past
the answer is no, I am happy to say
So a new car is out of the question, today.

You can read the original blogs at https://pondblog2011.com

© Francis Allcorn
Photo Artist

Poems from my Archives. Published 09/17/2011

My previous blog about my wives,
Seems to have troubled many lives,
Some of the comments I have received,
Are both good and bad and some aggrieved,

The truth of the matter is, I am not sad,
Just sharing my life both good and bad,
If fate decrees for the rest of my life,
I shall never have another wife,

Please, understand that because I’m not sad,
and thank the Good Lord for the pleasures I’ve had,
with the three wives that have been in my life,
and the fact. there was little strife.

More than half of my life with these women I spent,
most of it, I was very content,
But again, I was still in my prime
and could handle their wishes most of the time,
I could adapt and readily did,
made adjustments that were not exactly the fit,
but close enough on the day,
for the way they wanted to play.

Nowadays it’s a different story,
I’m set in my ways and no longer the glory,
of having a wife to cause me a worry,
as I can no longer adapt to the flurry,
of wishes and demands set by a wife,
and that is why they are not in my life.

I am not sad…
Life is good…
Thanks anyway…

You can read the original blogs at https://pondblog2011.com

© Francis Allcorn
Photo Artist

Poems from my Archives. Originally Published 09/17/2011

It is very plain to see that people who are just like me, a bachelor for many a year who, you would think hadn’t a care.

Sometimes, this is not entirely true when one thinks back at all of those who,  fate has touched in this life and yet I do not have a wife.

That’s not to say that I haven’t been trying, if I did I would be lying but it somehow seems that fate has other dreams for people such as I.

I have been a married man before, not once, not twice but three times the score. I enjoyed the married life, even if it meant a wife, to tell me what to do. All of those chores and honey-dew’s, created problems for me (and you) and yet to this I endured in my life, the joys and sorrows of having a wife.

The first I was but just a child, knowing nothing of the wild, life that I was into. I tried real hard until the day, my wife came up to me to say, I am leaving you this way. Without so much as a single glance, out through the door and out of my life she danced leaving me to vent, my anger and frustration. I know not what I vented it on, probably beer and wine and women and song. All in the hopes that one day, a beautiful wife would come my way.

When all was said and done and I had gotten over number one, the second appeared one winters night at the local tavern and in spite of the fact that a married women she, we fell in love for eternity, at least that is what it we hoped it would be.

For the next fifteen years of life we spent together with many a strife as Husband number one did find and vent his anger of the physical kind to make us pay for our time together but we endured what we thought was forever.

From England to America we went on a boat of the kind that we spent seven days afloat this monster craft. A storm blew up halfway through which slowed the progress of our move. We hoped the answer to our dreams would be achieved by this means of this we were so sure. We lived our life in America with ups and downs that the new life brought. Alas, fifteen years later, things were no better so we mutually agreed that this new life that we had planned had now come to an end.

Talking about wife number three she was much younger than me which I at first thought wouldn’t be trouble but sure enough fifteen years later, a scene so familiar would come in the form of a paper. It began”Dear John” but we all know that this form of letter does not get better and true to form a bachelor again was born.

When I look back at my three attempts and try to think what each has meant, my thoughts turn to love and what it is, so fickle an emotion that makes it possible to flit, from women to women.

In retrospect wife number one, a beauty that was a lot of fun, she made me laugh but most of all she awakened in me the mating call and in retrospect it was her shape that I did see and did believe that her love was for me.

Wife number two was of a different kind, older and wiser but still in her prime. For the first time in my life, I fell in love and made her my wife. Our love was of a wondrous kind when our eyes met across the room our love would flash one to the other and life would be forever a wonder. Alas, such love could not last and faded away as the time passed.

Wife number three was a different woman, a girl when we met which was a problem and with me old enough to be her Father and yet we had a love like no other and to this day I have to say that a part of me still feels that way with love that we shared over many a year. I was most sad when she in strife said that she wanted a different life for herself. I have no one to blame and yet I am the same in believing that she did once love me.

I lament that the last 20 years have been spent a bachelor free. To do just what I want to do whenever that may be.

But there is many a time, when a womans touch would be so divine but what I am missing from this life, I could not find in a wife.

The truth of the matter is, I really like it that I am able. I like the beauty and the wit that a women brings to the table. But, what it is I am really saying is that I am not able to live with one for any time and so I have no one to blame other than my feeble frame and a mind so selfish that I feel rather helpless to be the way I am.

On second thoughts, life’s not so bad. I have my pets and they don’t get mad. I can do the things I want to do and view the things I want to view and spend my money on God knows what without having to care a jot. I have my friends who really care and always make sure that I fare, well in my life. Most of all I have my health which is worth much more than wealth and even though at seventy-five, it is still great to be alive.

I just realized, that life is good or maybe that I should, give thanks to those who have shared my life, whether they have been my wife or just my friends or even those, like ships in the night have passed without so much as a backward glance.

You can read the original blogs at https://pondblog2011.com

© Francis Allcorn
Photo Artist

Poems from my Archives. Originally Published 09/14/2011

I lost another fish today, of what she died I cannot say,

I found her floating on the surface, her life gone and with no purpose,

She was the biggest fish I had, with scales of gold and black, in size she was at least two feet and with weight to match,

She was fifteen pounds if she was any and bent my net as I did steady myself to lift her out of the pond she called home, where she had lived her life and always ready to put on a show to display her beauty to me and to others who could not help, but see this glorious fish with colors so bold, colors of black and gold.

I remember the day at a place far, away that I noticed this fish for her coloring, a little thing at that time and who was to know she would grow into this beautiful fish and show,
her colors so bold, colors of black and gold.

Over more than twelve years, she has given me pleasure to watch her swim with the others but always so much bigger and so beautiful in shape and grace.

Farewell fine fish as my tears do flow. I know not where it is you go. I hope that in your time in Heaven or other place no man shall go, that you find peace in your place of rest as you have given to me, below.

You can read the original blogs at https://pondblog2011.com

© Francis Allcorn
Photo Artist

Poems from my Archives. Originally Published 09/02/2011

My little boys team had a game today
They were all pumped and ready to play
Against a team we had scrimmaged earlier in the season
Twice in fact and both times we lost, for no reason
other than their team played better
and had more skills than we could muster.

So, we went to the game with hope in our hearts
Ready to believe we could assemble the parts
That had been missing in our earlier encounters
and ready to play them with skill we had learned
from our coach in the month since the last time we played them.

The first half we played and we scored first
We thought that we could add to the list
but just before the half time whistle was sounded
they broke through our defence and the ball rebounded
into our goal, for them to tie
at one one the score and so did we end the first half with my
telling them, “Well done boys. Wait for next half, we will go at them strong,
and maybe we can carry them along as we score more goals to show them that
have learned a lot since the first time we met”.

The second half started and it became clear
that the other team had very little fear
and that no more this day
would we score any goals against them this way

The other team pressed hard and had many shots
but they had not reckoned with Jack who made a lot
of saves to keep them at bay for Jack was the games MVP.

Alas, the pressure became too great,
the boys lost their passing game and their shape
forgot how to clear and bunched up together
and finally the other team increased the pressure
until two more goals they scored this day
sending us home in such a way
that we felt we had really been beaten by
a team better and stronger and all we could say is
“Wait until next time” and you will see
that we will improve and we will be
more of a match for you when we play
again and on a different day.

The wonderful thing of this little boys team
They are not yet old enough to have a dream
of going unbeaten or better yet
win every game in such a way
that other teams fear them in play

No, my little boys have more of a care
with what goodies are in the chest over there.
the chest is filled with good wholesome fare
that one of the Parents has carefully placed there
and the Coach making them run and wave
at the Parents with whom they always behave

Is it to say,”Thank You” or better yet
make sure that they do not forget
to take us home with them as they say
“You are all through playing today”.

By the time they get home, this game is forgot
It’s not that they don’t care a jot
as they go home with Parents, who worry a lot
who make little boys feel like Kings
who worry about more important things
than a game that after all, is just for fun
and anyway, Tuesday is training and we’ll shoot on goal
before the Coach makes us run.

You can read the original blogs at https://pondblog2011.com

© Francis Allcorn
Photo Artist