As Pretty As a Speckled Pup

For a writing exercise, I was asked to take a common saying like, “Silence is golden,” or, “You’re never too old to learn,” and write a little something about it. I chose, from my Grandfather’s repertoire of sayings, “Pretty as a speckled pup,” as in, “She’s as pretty as a speckled pup.”

As Pretty as A Speckled Pup

Having not seen many speckled pups,
I was unsure of their universal prettiness.
Still granddad, in appreciation of beauty,
said, “Pretty as a speckled pup,”

often enough to etch it in my brain.

Not thinking it an appropriate compliment,
for the sophisticated girls of sixties,
I must have thought it a thousand times,
before that date when I let it fly

in front of her mom and dad.

“Audra, you’re as pretty as a speckled pup.”
Her dad growled, “What?”
Her mom wondered, “Huh?”
As we drove, Audra said, “That was sweet but,
never say it again in front of humans.”

Lost, Unfound

Usually lost, never found,
keeping his thoughts smothered,
Tom sought not to discover

but to be discovered.

Back when it wasn’t fashionable,
at the high school hop,
he waited for her

to ask him to bop.

Although wit was always
at the tip of his tongue,
he waited to be called on,

because he was young.

Tom pondered and planned
his course to be bold.
He thought no one cared

because he’d grown old.

Alone, lonely, garage door down
taking the lead with his last breath,
hoping, waiting, wanting to be found,
and he was, when he was, discovered by death.

Photos Not Taken

 

As far as ghost signs go
this was not a faint shadow

of its former self.

Yellows whispered but,
still harmonized

with reds still red.

A ghost sign, near resurrection,
being resuscitated

by a just right sun.

A picture begging for a camera
to capture the perfectly composed,

but I didn’t slow down.

Yellows and reds still
wait for their glamour shot.
Perhaps, my next time round.