“Naked Came the Bruce”

I guess as we get older lots of things about us change

Like how we look and how we think and we get mighty strange

I’ve noticed as my days and years quickly pass me by

Some things the elder generation does, leaves me to shrug and sigh

The eyes are most the first to go and with that a fashion sense

And if you make a small comment, you're met with impudence

"That stuff don’t match!" you mention, just to help a longtime friend

"The red and orange with that pink, it kind’a doesn't blend."

"You mind your manners" you are told, "I am the one who knows."

"I've been on this here earth much longer than Old Joe Blow."

The smell and taste are next to go and follows really fast

So enjoy your food while you are young, for it ain't gonna last

But, the ones who lose their modesty have really gone too far

Cuz naked folks ain't pretty when their teeth are in a jar!

"It shore is hot," Bruce said to me as he greeted at the door

He reminded me of the story of the foolish Emperor

"Come on in," he beckoned, just like nothing was amiss

He seemed to take no notice of his bare butt nakedness

So I went in and sat right down yet kept my eyes averted

We talked about the recent news, and other things we'd read

He wiped his brow and settled in on the couch of Naugahyde

And I wondered how to make a running break for the safety of outside

Then later as I pondered life and all that it can bring

I know that for a certainty, I beg you do this thing.

“GET OUT THAT GUN, AND SHOOT ME QUICK!” if I wander in my skin

Cuz it ain't pretty...not one bit, not even if it's kin.

 Pockets

My mom was a terrible cook; I think that’s why I was so thin

On Fridays she made us fish cakes much to my young chagrin

She covered the lumps with stale-crumbs, till they resembled turds from a beast

The smells made my young stomach do flip flops and detest attending the feast

Each meal started off with a blessing. Good thing! It would keep down the gag

I would secret each mouthful of foodstuff to stash in my made ready rag

When I saw the can of fish waiting to make into swill upon the counter top

I tried to encourage my friends to invite me over for a meal-time stop

And when no one was around for rescue from my Mom’s culinary disaster

I learned to change to my favorite dress, and do it faster and faster

This dress pink and red was adorned with eight pockets all over the frilly front

It was perfect to hide the nasty fish slop in its unappetizing chunks

Then into the waiting compartment, to save me from eating such mush

And off to the bathroom I’d run, and include all the cakes in the flush

I guess to this day I should thank her for keeping me healthy and trim

Because she was no good in the kitchen, during schooldays I was quite slim

“True love”

It’s always been my question though it’s never crossed my lips

Why all the stories of the hard won West

Never mentions the ladies or their difficult test

Now we all know men are made of puppy tails and snails

But the women who chose to love those men were loyal courageous females

They bore the daughters and sons of the men who homestead and tamed the land

And gave up their youth their beauty their souls and all the rough life demands

I know the tale of one of those gals taken from family comfort and all she knew

She married a cowboy, who until that time, lived alone with his dog named blue

In her ruffles and lace she beguiled this gent and they married in a whirl

He had no idea of her sacrifice made when he wed the city girl

But she loved him so she never looked back or longed for her childhood home

Most days she spent in the rough wooden shack on their homestead all alone

At first her cooking efforts were much like slop or swill

But he never complained or said negative words for he loved and cherished her still

How He longed for the bread like his mamma once made covered with berry jam

Then one day the aroma of baking came out when the swinging screen door gave a slam

“Now dear I knew you could do it” he cried as he hunted high and low

“I know I’m smelling fresh bread, did you hide it where did it go?”

“I have no idea of what you speak, just sit down and eat this meat”

“My skill with four does not exist so don’t plan on baked goods make of yeast.

His puzzlement grew when he saw on top of the stove a small pot of vegetable stew

No biscuits or rolls and his bride covered in flour with her apron all eschew

Then later that eve he gave grain to the cows and saw there hidden and flat

The sorriest loaf he ever had seen, brick heavy and much like a mat

A smile crossed his face as he thought of his dear

Trying to please him with home baked fare

And he loved her the more, never mentioned his find

for you and I know that true love is blind