Brown Rocks For Cynthia, by Denny Lancaster 261005

This might be a tale of the small brown rocks,
then again it might be about, the buck stops,
while two subjects in a verse is not the norm,
admitting though that two subjects, does give form.

So first we shall dispense with rocks to tell,
of the reason for a slip and then down I fell,
but in this story you certainly can also relate,
for such is the fate of husbands who are late.

My wife went shopping and I was left in charge,
although my responsibility was not that large,
time was slipping between completing a task,
and a serious question of myself, to now ask.

Should I continue on the computer with glee,
or not be finished and the wife would see,
and again be reminded that the buck stops,
so gather up bowls of those small dog rocks.

Time had really slipped and by barking I knew,
meal time was past, so into the kitchen I flew
skipping the obstacles which lay on the floor
and in my haste, straight into the open door.

However the door which was not open as before,
my head now was extremely blue and sore,
could I remember my wifes balancing routine,
how she does this really has to be seen.

Gather five large silver bowls, and one small,
balance the rocks container so it will not fall,
did I remember to run the water until was hot,
if not then I am really the one on the hot spot.

Now dog barking grew louder and rather intense,
time with me the buck stops, I really can sense
quickly I stacked the bowls by room order by dog,
surely I will remember big boy is not the only hog.

Carefully place each bowl on top of each dog crate,
run and then open the back door to await my fate
I prayed wondering if my wifes routine was mine,
so when the door was opened, then I would find.

Our six Shelties in a line through the door flew,
and in that brief wee instant my folly I now knew
a crash was a sound in mind, the rock can had fell
so no hesitation into the kitchen running pell mell.

There was no question that I would make it in time
also that not all the brown rock I could or would find,
too much thinking so a slip and there I lay on the floor
not to stop eating, kisses naught from Shelties I adore.

So my dear friend Cynthia in this poem you will find
a wee little ditty written to a friend who is so kind
to let you know that the buck stops once at the door
but with me is then again with a fall on the floor.

Now perhaps that today's few responsibilities have run
and with a few bruises back to the computer for fun
but not before I remember to open that darn door
and pick up the few remaining brown rocks on the floor.

I rarely apply for web site awards but when my dear friend Cynthia Jones, whom I have known for such a long time and first met at The Site Fights (TSF) started to establish her Giving Words Award Program, I watched it develop.

Then with trepidation I applied for the Giving Words award program, but I knew that our web pages would receive a fair and thorough review, and wishing to give support to my dear friend rather than just to possibly earn an award.  But to be quite honest, knowing that should our humble efforts earn Cynthia Jones award or not our web site would link to hers because it is an excellent writing resource.

Then in one of those days filled with unfortunate events we all have upon occasion I open my mail much later than usual to find not only her award, but a friendship gift too.

I thought to myself should I return a friendship gift with a gift of my own? The answer was yes, so with recent events still fresh in my mind prior to opening my mail, a poem of Brown Rocks for Cynthia.  Yes Cynthia, I am here to say everything in the poem did in fact happen just a few hours ago.

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