Imperfect Angel

I realize that Fall has just started but I'd like to share this winter poem. I'm sure that you can relate if you've ever lived or visited "snow country." Enjoy!

Imperfect Angel

In the Snow

From my upstairs bedroom window

on this moonlit December night

I look down upon the snow

at a quite unusual sight.

Carefully sculpted snow angels

line the hillside down below.

There's one after another—

quite the perfect little row.

But something is different

about that last one over there.

It isn't quite as perfect

as far as snow angels fair.

I ponder the possibilities

and say, "How can this be?

Aren't angels always flawless?"

Most people would agree.

Their lines are quite elegant,

 not a wing is out of place,

each gown's the right slant

and in very good taste.

That one is unlike the others.

It's messy. . . to say the least.

But for children's sake, I'd rather,

this imperfect angel bequeath.

Perfect's not what it's made to be

 with expectations above and beyond.

So, sweet children, I hope you'll see

it's important to just have fun.

As I gaze out the frosty window pane

at the wintery display cast in blue,

I glimpse something along the lane,

a dog slowly passing through.

It wanders upon the row of angels,

stops, sniffs. . . and wouldn't you know?

It was man's best friend who made that 

"Imperfect Angel" in the snow.

© 2010 K.S.D.

I Like Grasshoppers

Between spoonfuls of gluten-free Os, banana, pumpkin seeds and fat-free milk, I pondered. I gave thought to a number of things: the weather, the people I love, the state of the world, the Roto-Rooter guy that will be arriving at any moment. But I was mostly thinking about why I like grasshoppers. They are, after all, destructive little creatures with oversized heads, oddly shaped bodies, and crookity crooked legs. And then there's the sensation of having one attached to your arm. Have you ever had one use you as a landing strip? Weird!

As you see, I spent a bit of time thinking about grasshoppers this morning. I wanted to know why I like them—despite their short-comings (my classification). I decided it had something to do with a belief that I had as a child. Something that was told to me while I was still in the formative years of my existence. That was that grasshoppers are tobacco users, that they stash a wad somewhere inside that big ole head of theirs, and chew and spit just like people do. Can you imagine? Groups of grasshoppers casually lounging about, spitting tobacco juice in itty bitty coffee cans? No? Well...okay. I guess I better get busy.

 

"A Lady Always Knows When To Leave"

Welcome fall. Farewell hummingbirds. The pair that have been feeding here all
summer must now be on their way to South America. They made an appearance this
past weekend but they are nowhere in sight. I'm certainly going to miss the flurry
of activity outside my window at breakfast time. Safe travels!