Wednesday, July 22, 2015

Trump-et Sounds

Trump is playing folks
Like a hoedown fiddle player –
“Look at me, not at them,
Now dance around the square!”

His distracting repartee
Divides the GOP,
And like lemmings in a flock,
Many follow his decrees.

With insults flying fast
And issues overlooked,
Trump simply takes advantage
Of folks who can be hooked.

So, ignore the “Trump”et sounds
And focus on the race,
Let Donald be the one
With egg upon his face.

By Kathy Mansfield, 2015

Friday, May 08, 2015


When folks my age had kids
Was Milestone Number One,
Yet doctors said for us
There simply would be none.

Instead we got a dog,
Her name was Bessie Mae,
She helped us both get through
Those baby-crazy days.

When kids of all our friends
Grew up and went to school,
In my mind I witnessed
Milestone Number Two.

I focused on our dog
And smiled at wags and barks,
Sent graduation gifts,
Watched other’s kids embark.

That’s Milestone Number Three,
At a decade and a half,
But for us it was the end
Of our dog-focused path.

As I viewed Facebook pics
Of teens dressed for prom,
I said goodbye to Bessie,
The one who made me “Mom.”

Those milestones with my Bessie,
Though they've come now to an end,
Might set the stage for more
So my broken heart can mend.

What will be those milestones?
Only God can ever know,
But I trust in God with faith
That through them I will grow.

Sunday, April 19, 2015

Floppy Ears

(Written several years ago, but posted today in honor of Bessie Mae, 17 years old; 1998-2015)

A floppy-eared basset hound
Turned my life upside down.
Her mournful glance and howling bay
Thrills my heart every day.

Big fat paws and stubbly legs,
A cold wet nose and eyes that beg,
Ears that drag across the floor –
I never loved a creature more!

At night she snuggles in my bed
And makes a pillow for my head,
But when the night turns into dawn
She’s up and stretching with a yawn.

Her wagging tail says, “Let’s go!
Got squirrels to chase . . .you’re moving slow!”
Then off she waddles, nose to ground,
Every bit the hunter hound.

Now you might wonder why on earth
I’d let a dog have so much worth.
But love for my dear basset hound
Seems to have no earthly bound.

I can’t have children of my own,
The doctors say, “Cause: unknown.”
But that floppy-eared, cold-nosed pup
Fills that heart void right on up.

One day she’ll cross that Rainbow Bridge
Where bassets go beyond the ridge,
But as for now my love abounds
For this floppy-eared basset hound.

Monday, April 06, 2015

Happy Birthday (48)!

With birthday number forty-eight
I’m here to set the record straight:
The greatest gift that can be found
Is family and friends all round.

I’ll take the gifts; I’ll take the cake;
I’ll take a trip down to the lake,
But what I will remember best
Is time to love and time to rest.

I slept in late and ate my fill,
I had some time to just sit still.
I heard the happy birthday song
And stayed with Mom all day long.

I’ll walk the dog and talk to Rick,
The dinner menu is my pick,
And when I go to sleep tonight
I will have spent my day just right.

Countdown to Elianna!