Hello, fit friends! I’m sitting in my mom’s kitchen on this windy, bright, crisp 85-degree day listening to “Shout to the Lord” on an old “WOW Worship” CD and enjoying my Einstein’s coffee. I’m also seated twenty feet from an oven in which an upright chicken is virtually sunbathing his way to lunchtime scrumptiousness – and talk about “wastin’ away in Margaritaville,” this guy is called a “drunken chicken” because he’s filled with beer, which, I should emphasize, has no effect on the final product! And twenty feet to my left, my boyfriend sits at another computer “researching,” – and I’ll leave it at that, haha.
We’ll be leaving in a bit to go to the gym where front squats, knees-to-elbow (aka, tons-o’abs!), and sit-ups (aka, tons-o’-abs Part II) await in the CrossFit box, followed by the “assembling together” of the saints –aka, “church” ;-).
My mom discovered a stash of poetry I wrote years ago, and, to be quite honest, the majority would go from “stash” to “trash” if it were up to me! But you know moms… 😉
I wrote the following poem my junior year. And while I could provide a paragraph or two of critical analysis at the end, I realize that would break some kind of artistic law, like, “Thou shalt keep thy philosophical intents to thyself and let thy readers interpret, for better or worse.” So have at it!
Geese Over the County Fair
I followed footsteps to the fair,
Woven as they were.
I slid on them until my clothes were brown with wetted soil.
I saw the other girls with rainbow
Colors on their tongues,
Throwing the white stems on the ground.
They turned as I to see the
Ride nearby, flinging small boys
From side to side until their
Red faces became bowed.
I trudged on a little further
Where turkey leg-eaters ate
With funnel cake- lovers
Who talked with apple pie-makers
Beside the barns.
Inside were all the farmers with
Straw stuck in their jaws,
Grooming the cows and chickens
Better than themselves.
And out I was again
Beneath a cotton sheet of sky
Until Light pierced a hole
Right through its core.
And everyone looked –
only to glance—
But then held their stare
As came by geese across the open way.
They honked at us with words to say
But none could understand.
The V flew southward, out of sight, and
I wanted none else but to find it.
But I couldn’t miss the fair.
I hope you all have a fabulous Sunday and excellent remainder of your Labor Day weekend!
Stay fit, stay faithful, and with regards to my poem, take a break from the fair 😉