BACK IN TIME

I wonder what our ancestors would say
About how we live our lives today.
We get up in the morning and turn on the news,
Flipping channels to get everyone’s views.
We get our milk from the fridge not the cow,
We probably wouldn’t know how to milk in the here and now.
Our sausage links can’t be beat,
Just pop in the microwave-heat and eat.
Even our pancakes are easy to make
Just pull the carton from the fridge and shake,
Pour onto a hot griddle and bake,
And so yummy for goodness sake.
But then again I have things to do
Housework might take a minute or two.
No rugs to beat, we have vacuums now.
And where would I beat a rug, anyhow?
And the bathroom should really clean it’s self
With all the cleaners on the shelf.
This one for mold, that one for rust,
And let’s not forget the dust.
My kitchen can smell like lemon, apple or pear,
But ask me if I really care.
We don’t pound our dirty clothes on a rock any more,
Although we have a river at our back door.
The washing machines in the building do just fine,
So that is how I will wash mine.
I guess that is why we have time on our hands,
Because our apartments don’t make many demands.
So we can go downstairs and make the scene
Then come back up and lunch on lean cuisine.
We spend our afternoons at games and then
Go upstairs with more time to spend.
We have a supper of chicken and rice
Which cooked itself in a crock pot, oh so nice.
In the evening we turn on TV
And watch shows like “The Waltons” and how life used to be.
Would you want to live back in time?
You think on it as I end this rhyme.

HW


RELUCTANT STAR

A little girl struts across the stage,
A tiny tyke at a tender age.
She is very young, barely three years old,
A big smile on her face, trying to do all she’s been told.
She is dressed as a little cowgirl, complete with short skirt, boots and hat.
And she must remember to hold in her tummy so she won’t look (fat?).
Every hair on her head must be in place
With mascara and blush upon her face.
She is cautioned not to skip
Or worse than that, not to slip.
Some would just as soon not compete at all.
But it’s Mama’s dream after all.
They want their little ones to shine,
So they can proudly say, “See that one? She’s mine!”
Whatever happened to yesterday?
When all a child was expected to do was play?
Because it never stops at a pageant or two.
By the time she’s five, she will have a TV commercial to do.
Childhood is gone, it is no more.
She must be a star by the age of four!

HW


THE INDIAN

The old Indian thought how it used to be
Way back when the Indians lived free.
The land was beautiful, the buffalo many.
Now the land was crowded, the buffalo? Not any.
The Indian tribes had wandered through out the land.
Now, he could count the tribes on only one hand.
No longer could the Indian boy
Run through the prairie for the sheer joy
Of being taught what the Indian knows
And to practice with his arrows and bows.
Times had changed since the white man came
And nothing would ever be the same.
The wagon trains came like a long snake.
At the sight of them my heart did break.
White men wanted to take all our land
And didn’t want to share with our band.
They killed off all the buffalo,
And that to us was the final blow.
They took the one thing that let us live.
Everything was gone, nothing more to give.
So I sit here with a sigh
Knowing we will surely die.

HW


THE ORPHAN

The orphan stood in the cold twilight
Thinking about another endless night
Out in the streets where no one cared
If he was hungry or how he fared.
He walked along and began to tire,
His survival began to look mighty dire.
After a while he saw some tees
A tattered lady said, “Come with me please.”
She took him to a sheltered spot.
She said, “This is my place, it’s all I’ve got.
But you are just a little lad
And this old world can sometimes be bad.
I will gladly share with you
My possessions though they are few.”
The orphan was warm and he was fed,
He had a place to lay his head.
He told the lady,” I know what I’ll do,
When I’m grown I will help you.”
The lad is a man, now you see
And that tattered lady? She was me.
Years have passed and he’s done what he said
He’s given me the home where I lay my head.

HW


THE WAY WEST

I looked at the mountains in awe,
And in my mind’s eye I saw
The settlers who first came west,
Always moving, no time to rest.
The trail was dangerous and lives were lost,
But settlers kept coming at any cost.
They would face rivers overflowing
And terrible sand storms that just kept blowing.
Snakebites and illness would take their toll,
But getting to Oregon was their goal.
Babies were born; some lived, some died,
And through the heartache the settlers tried
To keep their faces looking west
And their strength was put to a test.
Indians were always on everyone’s mind
Trackers were sent out, both ahead and behind.
Sometimes Indians would be out to steal horses,
Sometimes they would come out in forces.
Usually in the early dawn they’d attack
The sleepy settlers trying to fight back.
They knew their lives were on the line.
I wonder how many of them did pine,
For the safety of the east and would
Have gone back if they could.
No, the only choice was to force ahead
To trust their guide and where he led.
As I looked at the mountains pictures filled my head
Of those courageous settlers in books I have read.

HW