Thursday, January 28, 2016
I once thought I could move mountains,
Build castles from local wood,
Communicate with stars at night,
And think they understood.
I visualized walking with lions,
Discovering peace on earth,
The answer to the meaning of life,
And a reason for my own birth.
Oh but that was in my youth,
Old age came all too soon!
I’m forced to abandoned future plans
To run away, stealing the moon.
Wednesday, January 20, 2016
Gatsby was a little car
Who reflected the golden age,
When F. Scott Fitzgerald made,
Mercedes Gazelles, and the good life
All the rage.
Built by a loving husband,
For a beloved teacher, his wife…
Gatsby drove through decades of parades,
A symbol of celebration, now famous
And larger than life.
Not immune from time and changes,
Gatsby was offered up for sale.
We said goodbye to the owners,
And the little landmark car, now Jonah,
Swallowed by the whale.
Dedicated to Trudy J. Sundberg