Tag Archives: gargano

Prairie Flyer – Part VI

Prairie Flyer – VI

By morning, Kansas’ sunflowers were barely peeking through the snow
and a hearty Kansas’ blackbird, bigger than a carrion crow,
was finding it tough to find some food….waddling close by Harley’s goat,
that Harley had let out about 4:30 ‘cause I heard him clear his throat
as he tussled with the stuck door.

“Looks like I’m here a while,” I said to Harley’s back
who nodded and smiled and took up the bacon and put it on a rack
and poured me more coffee…”Glad to have you here, Jake.
How do you want those eggs?  I’ve got some biscuits ready to bake..
Has the radio said much about the storm?”

“They say it hit from Utah to the Cumberland Plateau;
a lot of outages and people stranded, as far as they know,”
I told him as we tightened our boots, getting ready to go outside
to gas up the John Deere plow……to push some snow aside,
that is…. after eating our eggs and drinking another cup.

By late afternoon, Harley’s airstrip was done
and Sarah Jane was now ready for the gatling gun
that I would re-mount before leaving for the trip back home
in the morning if it wasn’t windy, I thought, as my comb
stung my head…. sticking in the matted hair.

The shower made me sleepy and I was afraid that if I sat,
the searing heat from the fireplace would see to it…. that….
I would fall asleep too soon and Harley would let me sleep
and his venison stew was smelling good so I got a broom to sweep
and it was then that we heard the first report.

(continued – Prairie Flyer – VII

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Filed under airplanes, barnstormer, prairie, prairie flyer

Night Moment

Night Moment

There’s a dream we all have that comes in the night,
when our legs are so heavy, though we know they are light,
and we can’t get away in the slow motion mode
and seconds are hours and we’re ‘bout to explode,
when we wake up and dare look around.
The room is all dark; everything’s in its place.
You’re sure you’re awake as you search out your face.
But something seems wrong; something’s wrong with the space;
too groggy, the body lays down.

When the sun, in the morning, sifts in through the blind,
and you don’t want to rise…. but then change your mind,
and she’s asking you why you sat up in the night
and, at that same moment, nothing’s coming to light
and you wonder just what’s on her mind.
You head to the bathroom… as you slowly awake;
The stomach is growling, but it isn’t an ache
You remember the meal… you had late last night
while finishing the game before starting to write;
the mind-dream now gone by design.

© 2012  t. j. gargano

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Filed under dream, poetry

A Beholder’s Beauty

A Beholder’s  Beauty

She sits near by me in constant stare
on porch where a breeze disturbs her hair
as I drink my coffee in a dreamy state;
my mind still heavy, not yet awake.

The sky is laden with clouds of gray.
The air is moistened in falling spray.
Across the field a sound is born
and gives a notice to the coming storm.

The driving rain obscures the field
it comes our way like a thrusting shield.
The raindrops fall; her eyes in squint
that glare at me for any hint

that maybe we will go inside
so she can find a place to hide
from thunder clasps and the wind’s hiss
as she begs the comfort from a hug and kiss.

A beautiful collie my eyes adorn
my constant pal since she was born
with constant fix upon my path
her eyes bestow the love she hath

From room to room she follows me
from near or far her presence be
and whimpers wildly with heart in burn
when I leave home and when I return.

Beauty bounds most everywhere
we have to look; we have to stare
in weeds and rocks and dusty boards
to find the beauty that nature hoards.

The beholder’s eyes see beauty’s heart
in all of life; in every part.
and gathers not a summary of
but shares an insight of nature’s love.

T. J. Gargano


Filed under beauty

The “Lights” in Ru Woods

Ru Woods is a 40-acre wood owned by my little sis, Ruthann, in south central Illinois and where family has gathered for holidays and ‘tent city’ celebrations.

It is a peaceful place to see wildlife, pretty flowers, breathe fresh air, take nature hikes, hunt and fish.

Ru’s husband created the man-made pond and constructed the bridge.  It is a nice place to relax and listen to the sounds of nature….In a video, I named it, Ru Woods.

"Ru Woods"

The “Lights” in Ru Woods


Sitting by the fire up above the bridge on the grassy knoll,
humming a tune and prodding the fire with a long pole,
in the corner of my eye, in the dusky twilight night
I watched three ‘lights’, no bigger than a ball,
go back and forth from tree to bridge until they disappeared… all.


Up behind the bridge in Ru Woods

I thought that if fireflies, there would have been more
dancing close by the bridge, instead of what looked to be….four
hovering up high and darting down low
seemingly all in a hurry to get to the trees
maybe warned by the leaves, now nudged by the breeze.

south point of pond


The breeze whisked the fire sending sparks into the air
as the hoot of an owl echoed in the trees, up where
the blackness of night hid their tops to the eye
and I jumped, startled by a rabbit scurrying around behind
and I knew, then, I was tired and those ‘lights’ were on my mind


East slope of pond

In the morning, I crossed the bridge to the slope
and checked the trees and looked with hope
of finding something to give me a clue
that I wasn’t imagining things the night before
so I kept on searching …..but what for?


My Gibson resting on the east slope of Ru Pond

I walked around the pond…. to think of something new
and try to clear my mind and come up with a clue
or maybe a little plan to prepare me for the night
in case the ‘lights’ appeared again when twilight came around
and everyone else were in their tents or headed back to town.


West side of bridge and Ru Pond

I laid down on the grass and stared from dark to light
and fell asleep and woke up when the day had turned to night
and the trees across the pond were filled with fireflies
while dampness filled the dark, by the bridge, where I laid
to frogs singing happily… as the fireflies….played.


Looking west

Then, as I started to stand…. to go make a fire,
I saw  a ‘light’ appear ‘neath the bridge, near the wire
that hung down from the post near the water’s edge
on the other side where it was hard to see
and I froze in place to see, if what would be….would be.


Then from the trees came ‘lights’, two and three
and stayed close together and seemed not to see
me in the darkness, standing not that far away
and I wanted to go there and check it all out
I wanted to, selfishly…..dispel all of my doubt .

I thought for a moment of the beauty before me
and the risking and losing of all what might be
just to prove something false or maybe even real
and spoil something precious, if only in my mind,
something so precious….. it’s best we don’t find.


So…I walked up the slope to the tents, to the fire,
and built it all up and warmed my entire
body that was cold from the dampness
from down by the bridge, where I laid all that time,
with the four little ‘lights’ …that danced in my mind.

copyright © 2012 T.J. Gargano



Filed under Ru Woods

Paper and Pen

Weekends seem to be getting busier at a time, in my life, when I thought they might be getting slower.  Hope all went well to all of you wherever you live in this global community.

Today I  just sat an stared at the paper, for a while, with pen in hand.  It was a slow go from paper to pc but I suppose we all have those days when the heart seems tired and we have to figure out how to pump it up.  My best to all of you.

(iStock photo)

Paper and Pen

If I think of something new
to write about this day,
I hope it helps to see you through
if I think of something new.
And if it seems a tad askew
laugh a little… but don’t dismay
if I think of something new
to write about this day.

(free domain photo)

Staring at table at paper and pen
in wonder…. that fills my mind
of ideas that will come, though I know not when,
staring at table at paper and pen.
My heart is pounding…. for a message to send
a message luminous…….by design.
Staring at table at paper and pen
in wonder…. that fills my mind.

(free domain photo)

When you’re sad and feeling low
place your heart into your hand.
Like  ‘lion’ seedlings….on it blow
when you’re sad and feeling low.
And feel your love ’float’ all aglow
in search of love by your command.
When you’re sad and feeling low
place your heart into your hand.

copyright © 2012 T.J. Gargano


Filed under dandelions, paper and pen

Up on the rise

For those of you who have driven highways in the western United States…..the long stretches of open prairie and wide skies and nary another car around, you might remember that  there was  usually a constant wind to contend with,  and when you climb the hills or ‘rises’, that wind always seemed to be fiercest at that zenith point.

In fact, you had to assume that would be the case.  And if you were pulling a camper of any size, approaching that ‘rise’ became problematic, at best.

Also,  as you approached those ‘rises’, telltale evidence of a constant wind was usually the bent over prairie grasses and the battered and broken fences along the way.


Up On The Rise

Out where the highway….. rises toward the sky,
up where the howling winds blow,
you might see a hawk riding thermals way up high
out where the highway….. rises toward the sky.
Out here the hand of the wind is dry
and its strength commands the grass,  lay low.
out where the highway….. rises toward the sky,
up where the howling winds blow.

copyright © 2012 T.J. Gargano


Filed under highways, road

From The Day You Were Born

My only grandson will turn 10 years old in April and I wrote this for him when he was three years old.

From The Day You Were Born

The war started,Austin, 333 days
from the day you were born.
And I’ve watched you grow in many ways
from the day you were born.
And though the country’s now in a fight,
protecting freedoms is good and right,
and I pray all your life is bright,
from the day you were born.

Your Mom and Dad will always love you dear
from the day you were born.
And they’ll make things right and make things clear
from the day you were born.
And when problems do arise,
and tears drop from your eyes,
they’ll comfort all your cries
from the day you were born.

And remember their love through good and bad
from the day you were born.
And never forget even when you’re mad
from the day you were born.
For they’ll love you through life’s strain
during its sunny days and  days of rain,
and their love will be clear without blame
from the day you were born.

And when you’ve gotten older, the more you’ll understand
from the day you were born.
And much you’ll figure out, as you become a man
from the day you were born.
And when you’re old and gray
to your grandchildren’s questions, you’ll say
‘I remember many a wonderful day
from the day I was born.’

copyright © 2012 T.J. Gargano


Filed under Family, Life, Love

Up in the Bronx




I am not funny in all aspects; I can not make a funny joke, funny.  But I did want to get Julie Catherine’s nice logo on my site and it is not free so I had to write something (haha)….and….well….Julie has a great site to find humor, poetry, paintings, passages for the heart, practical observations about life, warmth, affection…..she has about anything you need to cheer up your day, which is why I visit there a lot.

Give her a try….and watch what you read, cause some things might make you cry.  And like Yogi said…”You can observe a lot by just watching.”

Up in the Bronx

Over on 161st Street and River Road,
up in the Bronx where the ‘Bombers’ play,
Yogi wasn’t as famous as the ‘sayings’ he told
over on 161st Street and River Road.
Like when talking, you’d think it was Morse Code
“The future ain’t what it use to be,” is what he’d say
over on 161st Street and River Road,
up in the Bronx where the ‘Bombers’ play.

copyright © 2012 T.J. Gargano


Filed under baseball

The Headlines

I use to read the headlines verbatim instead of the sensationalism used to grab your attention.  The dangerous media is about ‘blowing everything up’ to get you to read the attending articles, which, in many instances, include information not as dire as the impression you get from the headline.

When did life, seemingly, become a scam?  My attitude is really dropping off…..hehe

The Headlines

Reading the headlines every morning before work,
waking up with some coffee, my usual perk,
I can’t help but think about the tentativeness of life
and those who have control of the weapons of fate,
and hope numbers aren’t fixed for that horrible date.

That date being the day that the world blows apart
and history is stilled in everyone’s heart
and everyone’s life is compromised in full,
and everything achieved is lost in the blast
and life as we know it, is ended at last.

But then all our worries would be such, no more,
and we’d be on our next journey through some other door
and maybe to a  place where there’ll be lasting peace
but there’s danger in speculating of what there could be
at the end of the tunnel……the end we can’t see.

Each of us carries, in our hearts, a clue
of what we want happening when the ‘light’ comes in view
and what we suppose will happen from then.
And, yet, what we think, won’t matter at all –
our fate will have been cast; our number on the wall.

Never to worry about the demise of one’s life
but a sadness for loved ones, caught in this strife,
especially the kids with a whole life to live.
So, I pass o’er the headlines and try not to stress
and think ‘bout the good times and hope for the best.

copyright © 2012 T.J. Gargano

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Filed under Life

Where the Dandelions Grow….

Well it is Sunday and I might as well stay in a whimsical way……and since I have posted some things on dandelions, I might as well post something else….dandelion.

“Where the Dandelions Grow….”

I had a friend, had hair on his chin
and he had one or two on his chest.
He lost his wife, he lost his house
and he got himself in a mess.

He went to town the other night
and he planned to do no wrong.
He couldn’t play the banjo; he couldn’t play the drums,
he couldn’t even sing a song.

He got himself a bottle and he drank it away
‘til he started feeling fine.
He jumped off his chair, threw his arms in the air,
and hollered “dandelion wine.”

“Dandelion wine,” he hollered again;
you could hear him ‘round the town.
“Dandelion wine,” he kept hollering out
until the sheriff walked around.

When the sheriff walked in, he started to grin
and then he just sat down.
No more hollering did he ever do
as he fell on to the ground.

The sheriff leaned over to pick him up
and noticed his smile so fine.
That’s also when he found… the empty bottle
of ‘dandelion wine.’

Where the dandelions grow, they buried him low,
where the air is fresh and fine.
His life’s complete and smelling sweet
of ‘dandelion wine.’

copyright © 2012 T.J. Gargano


Filed under dandelions, flowers