Meander 1 -- Poem __ Call the Kids for Dinner. Dear ---
Summer sidewalk shimmer heat
The men come home from the mill.
Black lunchboxes, thermoses rattle
Against the empty sides.
Dinner's cooking. Smells fill the air.
Call the kids for dinner, dear.
My father bald, hawk beak
Walks to the wooden porch.
T-shirt, scooped neck
Beats his chest in Tarzan cry.
Calling his kids for dinner.
Why does he have to yortle so?
Flushed, face red, from sun
I sneak to the backyard gate
So no one knows he'd my old man.
Meander 2 - Reading - Some books when you read pull you into the story. Others make reading a struggle. Reading one right now, will not hint to the title, but I find the going slow and the characters rather silly and inept. I'm sure that's what the writer meant and tries to show some humor but she doesn't. Wish she'd had an editor to show her how to cut her words to make them effective and to give her characters some kind of character and not silly. Old people just aren't as silly as these women are.
Meander 3 Writing - The rough draft is progressing and I know I'll have to write this again. I've been so busy getting the plot down I've forgotten the romance. It will come, there are many more drafts to write and I have time to write them all. It's getting the bones of the story on the paper so I can make it sing and the romance smoke.