Biscuits and Gravy

Biscuits and Gravy

Coffee in the morning opens my eyes,
Romancing my senses right from the pot;
Dark, aromatic and heady surprise,
That will leave my sleepy taste buds distraught.
Mellow, provocative, uplifting tea,
Though not as potent as coffee’s caffeine;
Jolts my palate invigoratingly,
Without being bitter, pungent, or mean.
Juice has its place, both acidic and sweet,
Teamed with bacon and eggs, muffins or toast.
Various cereals of oats or wheat
Are tasty, but not what I love the most:
Smother biscuits with thick sausage gravy—
The savory train to heaven for me!

Mick McKellar
April 2015

Some old friends reminded me just how much I like biscuits and sausage gravy. Reason enough to write a poem!

Mick

Walking Backwards

Walking Backwards

I looked for some old footprints to follow;
And though I searched, there were none I could find.
I created my own, deep and hollow;
Walking backwards through the dust in my mind.
Though I could not see where I was going,
I could see all the way to where I’d been.
I pressed on in the dark, always knowing
That I could find my way back once again.
Though I mostly face forward when I walk,
So I will not blindly stumble and fall;
I step lively backwards, and I don’t balk,
Although sometimes I’ll walk into a wall.
This way, I wander beyond my confines,
Because I can’t see the big red stop signs.

Mick McKellar
April 2015

One should not be hampered by the customary, the safe, and the usual. Adventure lives beyond the stop sign.

Mick

Wondrous Lights

Wondrous Lights

I wandered outside on the porch tonight,
Stumbling and shuffling around on the deck.
I wanted to see the Aurora’s light,
So grabbing a railing, I craned my neck.
I could see no Northern Lights in the sky;
Perhaps they were hidden by village lights.
My vision took wing as my gaze flew high,
And I gasped at the wonders of the heights.
The stars were diamond-bright holes in the black;
The Milky Way spilled across the vast vault --
Numbers so legion my eyes could not track,
Arrogance with’ring before the assault.
I trembled once as my spirit took flight,
Drawn to the brilliance of the fierce starlight.

Mick McKellar
April 2015

When the skies clear at night, I simply must gaze up at the wondrous lights.

Mick

Colophon

Colophon

The end of the road seems distant tonight,
Though sometimes it seems just around the bend;
For my passage is slow, my burden light,
And my boon companions have time to spend.
Despite many potholes to walk around,
And rain that makes the road muddy and slick,
The laughter of friends, such a joyous sound,
Makes a difficult journey light and quick.
Still at quiet times, when we stop and rest,
I ponder what happens when I arrive.
Will I feel like I fulfilled a grand quest?
For nobody gets out of life, alive.
As I journey on, my last words should be:
“I love all of you for walking with me!”

Mick McKellar
April 2015

In today’s email, the word of the day was “Colophon.” It resonated with me, I guess.

Mick

Shadows on the Snow

Shadows on the Snow

From inside my parka's hood,
A fuzzy warm cave for me;
I peer through the howling white,
But winter is all I see.

I cannot see where I am,
And barely see where to go.
I navigate by the sun,
And by shadows on the snow.

The muffled cry of the wind,
Laughs at my bundled up ears,
Sings to my frozen heart, that
This journey will end with tears.

Only up here in the North,
Where spirits of snowstorms talk,
Could I get lost without hope,
Taking the dog for a walk…

Mick McKellar
April 2015

OK, maybe I’m stretching...just a bit.

Mick

Weary Voyage

Weary Voyage

A bit of fatigue sets my mind adrift;
Cut loose from it's moorings, it rides the tide.
Swells toss it about, and the sudden shift
Causes changed perspectives from the rough ride.
I drift rudderless along the shoreline,
Venturing unguided before the gale,
Running attuned to the rising wind's whine,
Powerless to skipper without a sail.
My cerebral navy remains afloat,
To follow all the currents in the sea.
My weary acumen is in that boat,
Gratified for such opportunity.
Despite my grand expense of energy,
It's strange that my fatigue should set me free!

Mick McKellar
April 2015

Sometimes, I believe my mind must be weary to drift away and see life from a different perspective.

Mick

Sleepless Night

Sleepless Night

The lights are on upstairs tonight,
And shadows move behind the shade.
It seems I cannot douse the light,
Until I write what must be said.

The words are frantic to be free,
To dance across my empty page.
Those I ignore, will scream at me,
Until I open wide the cage.

Should I not quickly write them out,
Or try to hold them in my mind;
When I check back, without a doubt,
There's nothing left for me to find.

So, pen in hand I just comply,
And write the words I want to keep.
When I am finished, I will sigh,
Put down my pen, and go to sleep.

Mick McKellar
April 2015

There's no fighting it, when the words want to play, I never get a bye.

Mick