In Which An Anniversary Is Commemorated!

Just seventy-six years ago this date,
A wise decision happened to occur:
That Prohibition by the stupid State
Of alcohol was not so bright as were
Some other things we happened to append
To our fine Constitution. How "repeal"
Rings musically to mine ears. I'll spend
A happy hour quite soon, I now reveal,
A-toasting this, the wisdom of those who
Did vote in 1933 to lift
The ban on booze. I'll have a drink or two
In celebration. Then maybe I'll drift
Into good writing mode, or just play chess.
With freethinkers it's anybody's guess.

In Which Don and Carol Beat The Odds Some More

It's said that opposites surely attract

And that would be the case with this odd pair,

My mom and dad. He's Wyoming way back

(Fourth generation), while she hails from fair

Old San Francisco. Rawlins, where they met,

Hath never seen their like, before or since.

A cop and a newslady - that would get

A double-take from anyone. No hints

That they were meant to be would they accept

Until they stumbled on each other at

A party, and since then they've gladly kept

Each other's company, and I, their brat

And one more child from harm and foolish ways.

Congratulations, guys, and love always!

In Which I Squee For A Wonderful Guy

Today is Seventh Son Day, a long while

In coming. As we watch his numbers rise

With J.C. Hutchins, let us pause and smile

For him and us. At last our poor wee eyes

Partake in what our ears so long have known!

That baby-faced JC is sure no slouch,

That there's no pleasure quite like when our own

Do well. That sprawling out upon the couch

With paperback or Kindle is more fun

When it's a friend in there. Oh, JC, dear!

While Personal Effects was a delight

And brought the chills and of course brought the fear,

It's this one that feels like the triumph of

Your work and friends and all you've come to love!

Father's Day Sonnet: In Which I Celebrate My Own Dear Personal Dad's Verbal Gifts

My Dad's been a Patrolman, Sheriff, Judge,

As acts to follow go, he's pretty hard.

A storyteller, too - I don't begrudge

His greater skills than mine there. And regard,

His phraseology is unsurpassed:

He has heard, sometimes, fishworms fart before,

You're "Little Buckaroo" until you're classed

Perhaps as "Sports Fan," "Bub" or "Coyote", or

Some brand new sobriquet as yet unknown.

As "drunker than a waltzing go-to-hell"

And "Glad you got to see me" both have shone

Forth brightly from his discourse, you see well

Where I come by my weird-ass verbal feats,

Raised as I've been on such lexical treats.

Sonnet For Josh And Sarah Kelly, On The Occasion Of Their Wedding

At Vedauwoo I watched, before the storm,

Beneath the shadow of enormous rocks,

Amidst the scent of pines and in the warm

Light of the sun sound of calling flocks

Of birds and of rock climbers, as my friends

Sipped water, layered sand and shared a gaze

Presaging a long trip that never ends.

It's evening now; they're drenched and in a daze:

The thunder pealed, the clouds cut loose with rain

And hail as they wrapped up their promises.

Two families rejoiced well in their gain.

Now he is hers as well as she is his.

True to each other, true too to themselves,

And ever merry as befits two elves.