Day: December 5, 2019

 It was a different feeling
 Out at Grandma’s farm
 Uncles out hunting
 Rabbits or pheasants
  
 No schedule
 Meals always available
 Grandma busy in the kitchen
 Or sitting with her sewing basket
  
 Uncles in or out
 Success or complaint
 Weather never mattered
 Enrichment knows no season
  
 Nor emotions and sentiment
 Now looking back, although insignificant 
 The memory of being there
 Was one of the greatest things
  
 That mattered in my life
 Rabbits, birds and seasons
 Come and go; skies change
 Sounds vary as does
  
 The fragrance of the earth
 I changed; we all change
 As time changes and
 We wonder at times if it is for the better
  
 Stanski
 November 23, 2019 ^
   

 I’m not a complainer
 I face up to reality
 When someone says no to me
  
 What have I got?
 A knockout on a lost highway
 I need something for the pain
  
 Being shot through the heart
 Is not what I wanted
 When I said I’d die for you
  
 I guess I was living with a ghost, but
 Now alone like the last man standing
 I thought we had it going
  
 I’m a one women man
 Felt we were beautiful together
 Say you love me; lie to me
  
 I need something to take me
 From Saturday night to Sunday morning
 Someday I’ll be there again
  
 I’ll be there for someone new
 Don’t have any apologies
 It was all about loving you
  
 Now the bridge is burned
 Won’t be looking back
 So don’t raise your hands
  
 Stanski
 December 5, 2019 ^ 

 MY NAME IS GUY NOIR
  
 She is a lady!  
 Recognized by many.  
 I know her and can say 
 that she is all of that, 
 but then so much more
 I call her the story-teller 
 and I have heard them all
 My name is Guy Noir and 
 I’ve been around the corner 
 a time or two
  
 I’m an investigator and though 
 I’ve not been gainfully employed 
 for a while as such,
 I have taken this gentle job 
 as an usher in the local library
 I started as assistant, 
 but now I’m the main man.
 Everyone comes to me for 
 information, confirmation and affirmation
  
 She’s no different.  
 She has twelve stories 
 and has told me as much
 The thing she tries to hide is 
 the various forms of the same tale
 Her routine is to work the stories 
 depending on the crowd
 There are direct versions and the embellished
  
 Knowing her people is the key
 This passes over most but
 I am not routine challenged
 I can spot her type a mile away
 My talents are such that 
 I wonder why I don’t have more work
 That’s the way the investigative business goes
  
 The stories are hers and 
 she’s got them down
 She plays the same song in twelve scales
 A lot of people enjoy her tune
 Those that don’t stock up on rope
  
 Hanging themselves is the easy way out
 Guilt is hers when this happens 
 and she feels real bad
 Then again she has 
 a wholesale outlet for flowers 
 So she’s really all set
  
 There are not many like her
 And as I’ve said
 I’m Guy Noir and I know
 She is good at what she does
  
 Stanski
 December 5, 2019 ^