I don't know about the rest of you, but things around here are very political! I was out lit dropping yesterday morning and evening, and Wednesday morning. I skipped this morning, but no doubt I'll be out in the heat again tonight. The only things I've gotten written are a letter the Editor of the Joplin Globe (they haven't printed it yet) and a poem. I'll post the poem this morning since it will give you a glimpse of what life is like here.:)
And don't worry, Sarah said it wouldn't be nice if I didn't give you some more of the story I started last week, so you get a double feature today!:) Is that exciting or what!
But first of all, the poem.
The Political Blues
by
Rebekah Morris
Oh, I’m afflicted with a terrible disease
I call it the Political Blues.
I don’t go around coughing or having to sneeze,
It’s just that there’s so much to do!
The disease comes on slowly, I’m hardly aware
That anything’s wrong at all.
First it’s a longing to get out in the air
And make a political call.
Then there are meetings to hear people talk,
As though they had something to say,
By then I am certain to go take a walk
And oh, it’s a terrible day!
My phone won’t stop ringing no matter the time,
And my doorbell is dinging now too!
I’m trying to tell you in this little rhyme,
I’ve caught the Political Blues.
But it only grows worse as the days quickly fly
And it’s certain I’ve got it bad,
For no matter how often I think with a sigh
That I might be going mad,
They call then to tell me to drop some more lit,
Of phone calls I have to make,
Until I am ready to throw a big fit
Or maybe go jump in the lake!
And then there are days when I didn’t get out
To help the political campaign,
I’ve wandered the house till the others must shout
“Just go before you’re insane!”
I’m tired of walking, phone calls and signs.
I’ve hardly a voice to use.
Yet it is certain I won’t quit the front lines!
I’ve just got the Political Blues.
by
Rebekah Morris
Oh, I’m afflicted with a terrible disease
I call it the Political Blues.
I don’t go around coughing or having to sneeze,
It’s just that there’s so much to do!
The disease comes on slowly, I’m hardly aware
That anything’s wrong at all.
First it’s a longing to get out in the air
And make a political call.
Then there are meetings to hear people talk,
As though they had something to say,
By then I am certain to go take a walk
And oh, it’s a terrible day!
My phone won’t stop ringing no matter the time,
And my doorbell is dinging now too!
I’m trying to tell you in this little rhyme,
I’ve caught the Political Blues.
But it only grows worse as the days quickly fly
And it’s certain I’ve got it bad,
For no matter how often I think with a sigh
That I might be going mad,
They call then to tell me to drop some more lit,
Of phone calls I have to make,
Until I am ready to throw a big fit
Or maybe go jump in the lake!
And then there are days when I didn’t get out
To help the political campaign,
I’ve wandered the house till the others must shout
“Just go before you’re insane!”
I’m tired of walking, phone calls and signs.
I’ve hardly a voice to use.
Yet it is certain I won’t quit the front lines!
I’ve just got the Political Blues.
I hope you enjoyed that. And now the featured presentation. Or something like that.:)
Dashing up to his room, he closed the door and set to work. All his pirate things were gathered together, his sword and pistol were placed in readiness. Once he was sure he had everything he would need, he hid his bundle under his bed as he heard Kim calling him for supper.
No one seemed to notice his unusual excitement. The others talked as usual, but it seemed hours before supper was over and he was excused from the table. Then Ned found to his dismay that he still had nearly five hours left before he would finally meet a real pirate. He wandered about the house. “It is probably the last time I’ll ever see it,” he thought with a twinge of sadness. Restlessly he walked from room to room until his father, who was reading the newspaper, noticed and asked,
“Ned, is something wrong?”
Ned shook his head.
“It’s kind of strange here without Rob, isn’t it?”
Nodding, Ned wandered out of the room. He hadn’t really thought of it before, but it was strange without Rob. “I think I’ll go to bed,” he told his mother as he passed her. To himself he said, “It is a good thing Rob isn’t home. I’d never be able to make it out of the house with him in the same room.”
It wasn’t many minutes later that his mom came in and felt his head. “Are you feeling all right, dear?” she questioned.
Ned nodded. “Just tired,” and he gave his mom an extra long hug.
As the door closed softly behind her, Ned suddenly felt the tears fill his eyes. “She doesn’t know that I won’t be here in the morning,” he whispered. “I think I’ll leave her a note. I can’t tell her where I am, but I can tell her I am fine and I’ll come to see her sometime.
This done, and having dressed once again, he settled himself to wait. Several times he nodded off only to wake with a start, afraid he had overslept. When he heard the clock strike nine, he walked to his window and looked out. The moon was up and its light caused the trees to cast strange and grotesque shadows on the darkened ground. He stared hard toward the bay but could see nothing. The muffled sound of the waves could be heard but besides that all was still.
Nine-thirty, would 10:30 never come? The lights down in the kitchen and study went off and then Ned heard footsteps on the stairs. Quickly jumping into bed and pulling the covers up, he closed his eyes as Dad opened the door softly. For a moment all was still then the footsteps came quietly over and paused beside the bed. Ned fairly held his breath. Did Dad know? What was he going to do? It seemed an age to the young boy before Dad left the room, softly closing the door behind him.
The darkness of the night seemed to close right down around Ned Jones as he crept down the walk to the gate. He wouldn’t have admitted it for the world, but he was scared. His knees were knocking together, and he kept his mouth clamped tightly to keep his teeth from chattering. As he stepped through the gate two dark figures loomed up on either side of him and a deep voice spoke.
“Stand still, Mate. Are you Ned Jones?”
Somehow Ned managed to get out an “Aye, Sir.”
“Cap’n’s waitin’. Let’s go.”
The other dark form, who hadn’t said a word, stepped forward and started off into the darkness through the trees. The one who had spoken nudged Ned with something cold and hard which Ned felt instinctively was a pistol. He started at once. Not a word more was spoken as the three, the two pirates and their newest cabin boy, made the trek to the bay.
Part 2
The Pirates of Rocky Crag Bay
For a long time Ned lay there with the letter before him. He, Ned Jones, was asked to join some real pirates! Could anything be more wonderful than that? The Pirates of Rocky Crag Bay, where was that? How come he had never heard of them before? Should he go? Of course he would go! There was never any real doubt in his mind about that. He had to get ready.The Pirates of Rocky Crag Bay
Dashing up to his room, he closed the door and set to work. All his pirate things were gathered together, his sword and pistol were placed in readiness. Once he was sure he had everything he would need, he hid his bundle under his bed as he heard Kim calling him for supper.
No one seemed to notice his unusual excitement. The others talked as usual, but it seemed hours before supper was over and he was excused from the table. Then Ned found to his dismay that he still had nearly five hours left before he would finally meet a real pirate. He wandered about the house. “It is probably the last time I’ll ever see it,” he thought with a twinge of sadness. Restlessly he walked from room to room until his father, who was reading the newspaper, noticed and asked,
“Ned, is something wrong?”
Ned shook his head.
“It’s kind of strange here without Rob, isn’t it?”
Nodding, Ned wandered out of the room. He hadn’t really thought of it before, but it was strange without Rob. “I think I’ll go to bed,” he told his mother as he passed her. To himself he said, “It is a good thing Rob isn’t home. I’d never be able to make it out of the house with him in the same room.”
It wasn’t many minutes later that his mom came in and felt his head. “Are you feeling all right, dear?” she questioned.
Ned nodded. “Just tired,” and he gave his mom an extra long hug.
As the door closed softly behind her, Ned suddenly felt the tears fill his eyes. “She doesn’t know that I won’t be here in the morning,” he whispered. “I think I’ll leave her a note. I can’t tell her where I am, but I can tell her I am fine and I’ll come to see her sometime.
This done, and having dressed once again, he settled himself to wait. Several times he nodded off only to wake with a start, afraid he had overslept. When he heard the clock strike nine, he walked to his window and looked out. The moon was up and its light caused the trees to cast strange and grotesque shadows on the darkened ground. He stared hard toward the bay but could see nothing. The muffled sound of the waves could be heard but besides that all was still.
Nine-thirty, would 10:30 never come? The lights down in the kitchen and study went off and then Ned heard footsteps on the stairs. Quickly jumping into bed and pulling the covers up, he closed his eyes as Dad opened the door softly. For a moment all was still then the footsteps came quietly over and paused beside the bed. Ned fairly held his breath. Did Dad know? What was he going to do? It seemed an age to the young boy before Dad left the room, softly closing the door behind him.
The darkness of the night seemed to close right down around Ned Jones as he crept down the walk to the gate. He wouldn’t have admitted it for the world, but he was scared. His knees were knocking together, and he kept his mouth clamped tightly to keep his teeth from chattering. As he stepped through the gate two dark figures loomed up on either side of him and a deep voice spoke.
“Stand still, Mate. Are you Ned Jones?”
Somehow Ned managed to get out an “Aye, Sir.”
“Cap’n’s waitin’. Let’s go.”
The other dark form, who hadn’t said a word, stepped forward and started off into the darkness through the trees. The one who had spoken nudged Ned with something cold and hard which Ned felt instinctively was a pistol. He started at once. Not a word more was spoken as the three, the two pirates and their newest cabin boy, made the trek to the bay.
To be continued next week.
1 comment:
Loved the poem!! :) I feel sorry for you--having to do lit drops in that heat!!
Can't wait to see what happens next to Ned!
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