What is this here for?
What is its need?
Are we keeping it
Just out of greed?
Piles upon piles
Of stuff in our den
Will we ever use it?
If so when?
Padre
Hoarding
Month: July 2022
The Battle
The battle is not always bloody
The conflict marked with pain
Sometimes it is mental
A struggle more than just a game
For strategy and tactics
Will all come into frame
And when all is done and dusted
Only one will have the fame
Padre
Behind The Image
Idyllic scene of pastoral bliss
If only it were just like this
But there are mornings that are all too early
Hundreds of chores that await you surely
There are livestock to feed, fences to mend
And piles of muck, so we can’t pretend
That there’s no downside to the rural disguise
It’s not all meadows with sunlit skies
Padre
Weekend Tasks
When Friday comes and you’re weary
Yet, face loads of chores that are dreary
Do not seek the easy way
As I discovered the other day
For I told Alexa to get it done
But “she” said “I don’t know that one.”
So, I guess it will be the same old way
That the tasks will get done some other day
Padre
Fishing
When praise is scarce and hard to net
Some will start fishing for a complement
It isn’t that they are necessarily vain
It might just be that their egos are suffering pain
So, when you see someone approval seek
Be kind and don’t give a cruel critique
For it may be you that in passing of time
T’will need a word encouraging and kind
Padre
Relativity
German Time:
Eight – forty on the head
I arrived precisely at the time I said
UK Time:
I said I’d meet you at half past eight
Sorry to be running a little late
African Time:
I’m here now there was no need to call and call
By the way, what’s that pretty round thing on the wall
Padre
Beach Trip
Jason and Becky clambered along the rocky up-crop and then down a narrow overgrown path.
Becky made an abrupt stop and turned towards her partner. “You and your fricking shortcuts!”
“What do you mean? This is the fastest way to get to the beach,” he insisted.
“Yes, I’m sure I can get there in about ten seconds,” she said irritably as she turned to take another glance over the cliff.
Padre
Proverbial
“Just look at the state of our garden. I can’t belief the council doesn’t do more to control these pests. I mean it isn’t like they do much of anything else around here . . . .”
A mole hill’s bump
Into a knoll does rise
A becomes a hill before her eyes
Climbing still into a majestic peek
A Himalayan berg, to hear her speak
Padre
From Beyond The Mists
Rumour had it that they were from the far south, beyond the mists. Whether that was true or not nobody knew. What was known was there were short and stocky, and had eerily white skin that never seemed to burn or tan. Their hair was as white as their skin, but what struck most people was their eyes. Their eyes were large and almond-shaped and varied from a red to a deep orange. What made their appearance even more alien that they filed their teeth to points and clipped their ears in their youth to make them almost flush with their heads. The last two points were actually pure speculation as no one had ever seen a Grya under fighting age, and in truth the ears and teeth are natural among their kind.
The Grya largely kept the company of their compatriots, but were friendly enough to those that showed them courtesy. In fact, when in the mood they could be downright gregarious and loved parties and drinking games, which they seldom lost.
It was to the Grya that young Amir was detailed, an event that would help shape his life.
Padre (R. Mitchell)
O yeah, well *@^!
counterproductive
even destructive
so many things we learn
like biting comments
and cruel remarks
and insults that burn
and though no one set out to teach them
still these things we learn
etching away at our souls
as kindness and goodness we spurn
Padre
Padre's Ramblings 