Air Traffic Control

Image by Orna Wachman — Pixabay
Negotiate the narrow aisle,
find Zone 5 Seat 21;
stow baggage in overhead bins,
take your seats, fasten belts
and become sardines
squashed in a can.
As engines roar to life
you all pray those bins...
and your bladders...
stay shut for the whole trip.

Home Joys

Many people have written about the joys of coming home, of rediscovering the treasures you were taking for granted, and one wise writer once declared that “HOME” is the nicest word. Yes, it was great to visit dear friends elsewhere, but now we are home again, and very glad to be here. 🙂

The Joy of Getting Home

by Edgar A. Guest

The joy of getting home again
is the sweetest thrill I know.
Though travelers by ship or train
are smiling when they go,
the eye is never quite so bright,
the smile so wide and true,
as when they pass the last home light
and all their wandering’s through.

Oh, I have journeyed down to sea
and traveled far by rail,
but naught was quite so fair to me
as that last homeward trail.
Oh, nothing was in London town,
or Paris gay, or Rome
with all its splendor and renown
so good to see as home.

‘Tis good to take these lovely trips,
‘tis good to get away,
there’s pleasure found on sailing ships,
but travel as you may
you’ll learn as most of us have learned,
wherever you may roam,
you’re happiest when your face is turned
toward the lights of home.

From the book, Collected Verse of Edgar A. Guest,
©1934 by the Reilly & Lee Co

Morning View

Sunrise

by Edgar Guest

Today I saw the sun come up, like Neptune from the sea;
I saw him light a cliff with gold and wake a distant tree.
I saw him shake his shaggy head and laugh the night away
and toss unto a sleeping world another golden day.

The waves, which had been black and cold, came in with silver crests;
I saw the sunbeams gently wake the song birds in their nests.
The slow-retreating night slipped back and, strewn on field and lawn,
on every blade of grass I saw the jewels of the dawn.

Never was a monarch ushered in with such a cavalcade,
no hero bringing victory home has seen such wealth displayed.
In honor of the coming day the humblest plant and tree
stood on the curbstone of the world in radiant livery.

Pageants of splendor man may plan, with robes of burnished gold;
on horses from Arabia may prance the knight of old;
heralds on silver horns may blow, and kings come riding in,
but I have seen God’s pageantry — I’ve watched a day begin!

From his book, Collected Verse of Edgar A. Guest,
©1934 by the Reilly & Lee Co

Image by Pexels — Pixabay

When Day Is Done

A poem by Mrs. Roy L Peifer
(nee Mae Belle Feese)

Isn’t it fine, when the day is done,
To rest in the rays of the setting sun,
Gently fanned by a western breeze;
To list to the hum of the drowsy bees,
To gaze at the earth and the skies of blue
And know that it all belongs to you?

Isn’t it fine, at the close of day,
To scent the breath of the new-mown hay
And the mellow sweetness of golden grain,
To stroll in the dust down a country lane,
To watch the moon rise round and gold,
And know that is all is yours to hold?

When all the sounds of the day are stilled,
I like to stroll through the fields I’ve tilled
Where I’ve laboured with brain and heart and hand
To wrest my food from this vibrant land,
To gaze at the earth and the sky’s blue dome
And to know that it all is mine to own.

Oh, I’m glad that you need no gold to buy
The earth or the stars or the friendly sky;
The scent of a rose or a night bird’s trill
Or the sun sinking slowly behind a hill;
Now I am as rich as a man can be
For the whole wide world belongs to me!

I’ve tried to find information online about this poet, when and where she lived, etc. I see she, or her descendants, published a book of poems in 1982. Unavailable, says Amazon.
I couldn’t find this particular verse online, just in a friend’s Summer ‘Ideals’ magazine from May 1955. I see that if you want a copy, you can order it from Amazon for about $7.

Forecast: Dry and Smoky

this sad country
bird bath emptied in the night
by a thirsty doe

The prairies are definitely in a dry cycle this year. Most of our “Possibility of thunder showers” forecasts have evaporated and all the sloughs are dry. Since there’s no water lying anywhere near, I’ve been taking pity on the birds in our yard and putting out several basins of water in the back yard for them. It’s been a joy to watch them from my kitchen window, coming and splashing about, as well as dining on hapless insects floating on the surface.

Last week another creature found my water bowls. Early one morning I saw a doe drinking out of the largest basin so I be sure to top it off at dusk every evening. Several mornings now I’ve found it right empty and a number of telltale hoof marks on the ground. Last night I filled it to the brim around 9 pm and there was only a dribble in the bottom this morning.

Our yard light provides another source of nourishment for the birds, too, judging by how many birds are harvesting bugs on the ground below every morning. This morning I saw robins, sparrows, a kingbird and a brown thrasher feasting there.

There are many fires burning in northern forests; I heard of over a hundred burning out of control in BC alone, plus fires in Alberta and northern Sask.. All this week our atmosphere has been hazy with smoke, sometimes it gets rather hard to breathe. Still, I dare not complain when others closer to the fires are in thick smoke every day and many communities have been evacuated because of encroaching infernos. It must seem a daunting, maybe even hopeless, task to fight fires on every hand, but I’m so thankful for those brave souls out there doing that work.

We’re taking a holiday this week, going to a part of our country where rain is plentiful. In fact, there’s rain in the forecast almost every day this week — I just wish we could bring some back with us! Meanwhile, I hope the creatures around our yard can find another source while we’re away.