Post Christmas Emptiness

by Rick Williams


Christmas day has come and gone,
and another year begun.
The decorations and the lights
are all put away and done.

All the shopping money that was spent
now has to be paid back,
and now we must endure
all the "end of season sale" attacks.

It's not like there's any money left
to take advantage of the deals.
We've only got "so much" to spend
including water, heat, gas, and meals.

But there was one thing that we missed;
or maybe it just stood out more:
the lack of little ones around
seemed more noticeable than before.

No Playskool and no Fisher-Price,
no screams of giggled delight.
No trucks, no dolls, no toys for kids;
there were no kids in sight.

Is this that biological clock again?
A sign of something new?
Aren't we supposed to have
grandkids by the time we're 62?

What a different Christmas day we'd have
with all the excitement little kids do bring.
There'd be paper and boxes everywhere!
Laughing and playing would be king!

The flashes of the pictures taken
would be bouncing off the walls
as we tried to capture all the fun
that was unfolding overall!

Every Christmas when I was small
the same, familiar scene took place:
Which were the kids? Which was the adult?
Oh, the happiness on dad's face!

I still remember that fun he had
all those times back then.
I liked the way he forgot his age
and on Christmas became a kid again.

My wife and I talked, and both agreed:
How cool and different it would be,
if we could borrow someone else's kids
to add Christmas chaos to our lonely tree!

Old Iron

By Rick Williams


Dirty paint, and rusty chrome;
torn seat cover over sun-baked foam.

Missing, cracked, or broken lights
on front, on back, on lefts and rights.

Wiring that was once in shape;
now full of breaks and wrapped with tape.

The brakes might work if they're applied,
but likely lock from the gunk inside.

Missing bolts and rounded nuts,
and cables full of nicks and cuts.

A left side pipe with nasty marks
from when a road made pretty sparks.

Spark from plugs? Not any more!
The battery--dead since long before.

The tires are quite a mystery;
how they hold air is beyond me.

Everything rubber is cracked or gone,
or nothing like the factory spawned.

The gas tank, capped, smells bad inside
from rotten old gas that has long since dried.

The fuel lines are yellowed, old, and hard;
the chain is there, but no chain guard.

Parts are few, and the bikes are old,
but I consider them to be pure gold!

Old Acquaintances

By Rick Williams


Wait--what's your name?
Do you know me?
I'm glad you came,
wait... Let me see...

I knew it was you
when I looked your way
but where's your hair;
did it fade away?

Yeah, older we appear to be
when did that shit happen?
When did we lose our youth
and rock turned into rappin'?

Though hair is gray
and energy lacking
I've many miles left
that I can be rackin'!

Summer is My Thing!

by Rick Williams


Welcome to the summer heat!
(It's not for everyone...)
For me, though, it's a favorite--
It's when clothing turns to fun!

The choices that some people make
in what they choose to wear
tend to border on risque'
and filled with "...if you dare!"

It's a time for naughty dress
for those that like to flaunt;
it's a time to show more skin
and make their clothing taunt!

A general lack of underthings
prevails in summer clothes,
and flip-flops, shoes, and sandals
reveal sexy, polished toes.

My favorites are the dresses
that blow when there's a breeze
with glimpses of what's underneath
that tantalize and tease.

Sure, winter, fall, and spring are good
with all the things they bring,
but give me summer any day;
bare skin is more my thing!

Limericks for Lisa

by Rick Williams


A wonderful friend of mine--Lisa;
Such a talented artist is she-sa!
Her pottery is stellar,
and often I tell her
how beautiful her work is to me-sa.

Though her pottery wheel is her tool,
her painting is also a jewel.
her designs do inspire,
and I love to admire;
Her elaborate patterns are so cool!

Algona (Sung to the tune of El Paso by Marty Robbins)

By Rick Williams


Out in the sleepy small town of Algona
I fell in love with a red-headed girl.
At school I'd stare but pretend not to see her
and through my mind thoughts of Brenda would whirl.

Cute were the dimples and pigtails of Brenda
but I was a "timid with girls" sort of lad.
I never looked at her wide eyes directly
so I never knew what color eyes that she had.

One day at school, new glasses she wore
so different she looked to us all.
Laughing and joking
such fun I was poking
with poor little Brenda
that girl that I loved.

So in anger she

snitched to the teacher before I could stop her
and cried while she told her what evil I'd done.
I'm sure I got into trouble about it
as Brenda stood back with a grin she had won.

I was not liking this bad situation,
I stood by the teacher and stared at the door.
But Brenda was worth it, a sassy young maiden
even though tears of mine fell to the floor.

Very soon after I, too, wore new glasses
and had to endure the same insults as she.
I hated them dearly for making me different
but loved them as well for at last I could see.

Things on the blackboard were finally in view
nothing escaped my new eyes
now I could see things
like panties on school swings
the clearly-seen undies:
my newly found prize.

Alas, but I

Moved from the town and went north to another
friends that I left there were fading from view.

For the girl in Algona my love was still burning
though Brenda had surely forgotten me now.
Like me she grew and forgot those days back when
we ran and we played as our days would allow.

Moving away from Algona one day
she had to follow her kin
maybe she'd be back
or maybe she wouldn't, but
looking behind her she
cried leaving her past.

And I felt that

A spark in my soul was extinguished or missing
an emptiness echoed though my childhood heart.
I couldn't tell what this emptiness came from
I only knew I felt missing a part.

Every ten years I had hope that I'd see her
my love for Brenda was still there inside.
At those reunions I never did find her
I never knew whether she lived or had died.

Then came the 40th, my heart filled with hope
maybe this time I would find
the girl I had searched for
for all of these years.
The beauty named Brenda
that I'd left behind.

So in earnest I

kept a sharp eye on the news of my classmates
working the listings I asked for her name.
One day I looked and my eyes misted over
written there was Brenda, my old childhood flame.

Now that I've found her I'll never let go of
this girl I have missed all those decades before.
I missed her so badly and now that she's back
I will love her forever, forever, and more.

Is it Time?

By Rick Williams


Is it time? Is it time for baking
in warming rays the sun is making?

Is it warm enough to exchange or shed
the winter clothes for naught instead?

The End of Winter

By Rick Williams

The wafting floral essences
fill the countryside;
the warm air rolls throughout the car
while out for a springtime ride.

Peel off protection from the cold
and celebrate the sun!
Get rid of all the winter clothes,
and sun the naked buns!

The Crossing of Paths

by Rick Williams


There once was a cute redhead named Brenda,
and we both, the same school, did attend-a.
Now that we're older
I am able to hold her
and we are finally boyfriend and girlfriend-a.

Many years have gone by and gone fast,
and though many experiences have passed,
we've found that we are
quite alike--it's bizarre,
I'm so glad we're together at last!

Limerick for Warren

by Rick Williams

A "planner-turned-screener" named Warren

Who, in thrift stores he likes to be porin’

He has roving eyes

for collectible ties

The rare ones are the ones he likes scorin’