From the mind of a mild mannered maniac

Winter’s Cheer

imageSwiftly fly the seasons

year upon precious year

first Spring’s rebirth,

Summer’s love

then Fall’s rich palette,

and Winter’s cheer

The season that blends nostalgia with a

twist of mirth and folly.

‘Tis a time for frosted window panes,

for mistletoe and Holly.

Time to gather our loved ones here,

to share our joy with our near and dear!

to celebrate with festive cheer.

 

Happy holidays, folks, wherever you may be!

~CLIFFY:)

 

Dismal Day

image

Dismal day,

how dare you chase my sun away.

I’m made of sterner stuff,

I’ll shine on through the grey.

I dare not let you cast a pall

on my parade.

You’re nothing but a ruse,

a game, a masquerade

Yesterday

Hello yesterday, what’s on your mind

what do you mean, “The years aint been  kind”?

You’re history pal, you’re just the past,

A reminder that time is passing so fast

yes, i cling to you, far, far more than I should,

but my memories of you are not always good.

you’ve caused me much hardship, anguish and pain,

and made me relive you again and again!

Sure, there’s nostalgia,  your greatest bouquet

Were things really better, back in the day,

or photoshopped images, with your own special spin

Whose varnished veneer is beginning to thin.

Why you intrigue me, so much, i don’t know

its time to move on, still i don’t want to go

I can’t just disgard you, after all,  you’re my past,

but tomorrow is beckoning me, at long last.

imageDriving late, on a lonely road

Just roaming, lost and weary

I think about us, well, the used-to-be us.

and our new past, so damned dreary!

Landmarks along this grainy lane

Pass by my gaze unbidden

I can’t change the channel, can’t look away

The images won’t stay hidden.

Sign posts scream out silently

Hazzards ahead, don’t go there

I can’t turn back though, I never can.

There’s a new path out of here, somewhere.

But there never is, just our tainted past

and the hurt that won’t ever heal.

So, I’m driving late, on this lonely road,

a ghost behind the wheel.

A hint of Springtime

image
Honeysuckle, songbirds and blossoms abound signs of awakening, all around
Each balmy night and dreamy day
Is so tinged with nature’s sweetest array.
There’s a song in my soul, a warm embrace
and a dream in my heart. For the whole Human race.

With uproarious zest, I thus, declare,

there’s a hint of springtime in the air!

Winter in Vancouver

Happy New Year, everyone!

I hope 2015 finds you all happy and healthy.

image

2015 has swept in with a crisp newness that matches the brisk, coldness of this Arctic inspired chill.

Southern BC is typically mild and wet, at the onset of winter, our best friends, a sturdy umbrella, and a dependable pair of waterproof boots. This sudden cold-snap comes, therefore, as somewhat of a surprise.

Change is good, though, It’s really, not half bad, walking out on an icy winter’s day, when the skies are blue and the sun is beaming down on the sparkly, ground.

It’s fresh, it’s new, and a far-cry from the incessant downpours, dowdy, grey, rain clouds, and the ominous threat of nearby rivers, over flowing their banks.

I love the crunch, underfoot, the smattering of snow that adorns the rooftops and hearty, old, evergreens like glistening tinsel, garlands. It’s so refreshing and invigorating.

When it snows a little, many Vancouverites, fly into a panic, flocking, in droves, to their local winter tire retailers. Other’s make do, many careening their traction-less rides, off of trees, traffic poles etc., enroute to ditches and snowdrifts.
Our hardy, better-aclimatized, Cousins, in Northern BC, and Central U.S and Canada, who deal handily and routinely with far harsher conditions, laugh heartily at our ineptness. Still, I’m glad we give them something to smile about.

Well, I just saw a weather update. Apparently this cold-snap is coming to an end soon. I honestly think I am going to miss it.

Happy New Year!

~Cliffy

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

RED LIGHT

REDLIGHTbcl

The red seemed permanent, I rapped anxiously on my steering wheel, and glared at the traffic light  in as intimidating a manner as was humanly possible. Staring hadn’t worked either, I’d blinked over a dozen times and yet still the angry crimson orb peered, back at me, as constant as the throbbing in my brain.

Several car horns , repeatedly voiced their opinion of our current predicament, but mine did not join the chorus. It was with me at the front of the line,

I was so tempted to abandon my little Corolla, and walk home; I probably would have, too, if I hadn’t just made the final payment on her, two weeks earlier, and if home wasn’t, at least, twenty-three kilometers away, of course.

With so few vehicles approaching from any of the three, alternative directions the other temptation was to jump the light and get on with my day. Why didn’t I ? That is a great question, I am glad you asked it in so timely a fashion.

Not twenty feet from where I waited, with rapidly dwindling patience, sat a Vancouver City police car. It was unoccupied, but I somehow sensed that it’s driver was, even as we speak, scrutinizing this scene from his window seat in Madison’s Cafe.

I wondered how long he could possibly leave it before he intervened, and ushered us dutifully through the intersection. A new city ordinance against the use of a cell phone whilst behind the wheel of a running motor vehicle was, for the moment, preventing me from summoning  himself, or one of his colleagues.

A few cars were, now, performing illegal u-turns; Others were zipping past me, in the inside lane, and turning right. I counted to twenty a half a dozen times, but still I waited, and still I stared at that, confounded, red light! It would have been so simple to break that law, many others would have, of that I am sure. Curse my parents for raising a lily-livered, law-abiding citizen!

I turned on the radio, half expecting to be mentioned, on the traffic report.  Speaking of traffic, it was backed up, behind me, by now, for several city blocks at least. People were hollering, horns were blaring and my head was pounding like a thousand Ringo Starrs. I rested my right hand on the hand-brake lever, and sat poised with one foot hovering over the clutch, and the other by the throttle. My patience was at an end.  I was all set to break the law!

The guy behind me finally lost it, he yelled at my rear-view mirror while waving his up-raised fist in some sort of unfriendly salute. His big-block Chevy engine roared angrily, clearly in tune with its agitated owner, and his vehicle pulled out and around mine in an, impressively, aggressive leap.  As his head drew even with my passenger-side window, he glowered at me and I clearly remember the throbbing vein, dancing away on his glistening forehead; well that, and then as the Chevy accelerated into the intersection, the squeal of protesting tires and brakes, and the gut-wrenching  explosion as two perfectly good vehicles became one mass of smoking rubble.

copyrightCopyright 2014 – Clifton J. Lewis

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