Thoughtful Transit FlowersEach minuscule silken petalThoughtful Transit Flowers9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of the orchids cried romance
unto each passenger's ears.
They were not for a particular occasion,
but simply to convey love.
I held them tight,
seated on the transit bus,
as if they were my children,
and I their compassionate mother.
White curls of age
and a soft maroon floral dress
held the elderly woman together.
She, seated adjacent to me,
and kneaded her wrinkled hands.
"For your girlfriend," she told me.
"What a lucky young lady."
Fleshy lips curled
into the gentlest smile
I could muster.
"For my boyfriend."
Those words seemed to pierce
the old-fashioned woman,
like an arrow,
and she nodded.
Slowly, the blood rushed
to her wrinkled cheeks,
and she seemed to have been pained
by this, or confused even;
yet she spoke again:
"What a lucky young man."
250 christians can't be wrong250 christians can't be wrong10 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
The counselors tried to keep the children calm before meals. They lined them up by cabin in front of the dinning hall and preformed various stunts to pacify them until the tables were set. Sometimes they sang songs with hand motions:
"Baby Shark do do do do do do, Baby Shark do do do do do do, Baby Shark. Mama Shark do do do do do do, Mama Shark do do do do do do, Mama Shark, Daddy Shark do do do do do do…" The song continued to tell the story of a woman swimming who suffered a shark attack and flew to Heaven. It was an annoying tune with gestures that involved little more than clapping your hands together in a vertical snapping motion. The eleven-year-old campers loved it. They sang it repeatedly when they got home and their parents cringed.
"JELLY BEAN!" someone called out, "tell us a joke!"
A short brown-haired counselor stepped onto a crate in front of the children. "Do you really want to hear a joke?" she asked.
The children shouted back that they did.