Marshmellow Playground

© 2008


It’s made of natural substance
Floating in many shapes
Many fluffy arrangements
To fool any humans eye
But, if you use your imagination
No telling what you’ll find

On azure colored background
As if painted there in clusters
Sun light rays come beaming
through slight openings shining
Like the breath of a pink angels kiss
A light breeze blowing it to you

What a landscape of pure white
Blending together forming an island
One of many puffed marshmallows
Come lose all your inhabitations
Play with me upon my island
My marshmallow playground in the sky

The Watcher

© 2008

She could hear the country band playing
Gliding across the floor as she slid off her coat
He was there as he had been every Saturday night
Right there at the end table by the dance floor




He tipped his grayish cowboy hat to her
She acknowledged him with a smile
Dang! Those deep green eyes could swallow her up
Then the guitar player started playing and she was off





She was lost as usual in the beat of the music
Playing, She and I, an old Alabama favorite
Line dancing by alone as green eyes watched
Just the band, green eyes, and her little self




She felt herself be taken away by the beat
In her own world, steppen, hips swaying, twirling
Her world, not aware of anything but the music
He watched her, his feet tappen to the beat, her beat





He watched as she kicked, twirled, those hips gyrated
Never saw anyone line dance like that he's thinking
The music stopped, "let's thank the little lady," she heard
The whistles, and loud applause, the hall was filling up





He watched, a gleam in his half closed eyes, a sensual grin
She danced, her long dark hair flying, wearing that sensual smile
It fit her just as her skinny jeans fit, but where did she go
Where ever she was when she danced, dam she was free
Song done, whistles, applause, and the usual women glaring







He watches as she grabs her water bottle and steps outside
"She comes here alone, and leaves alone," he's thinking
"Not tonight, time to introduce myself," he whispers





A waltz starts up as she stares up at the stars
"Dance with me" she hears
Turning she's looking into those deep green eyes




"Madam, I just got tired of watching your fire,the disappearing act you pull when the band plays."
"Take me to where you go when you dance"
"Let's see if you can go there," and slips into his arms
Holding her close they danced on the grass into the night
Sometimes when the band is playing, the misty fog fills the air around
People swear you can still see them there on the knoll dancing




Now, who's The Watcher

Quanah's Parents: A True Love Story

Quanah’s Parents: A True Native Indian Love Story© 2008


Quanah Parker was a warrior in his youth, a rancher in his maturity. The two photographs here show that he worked hard to accommodate both worlds. Some of his flexibility may have been due to his parents—and thereby hangs a love story.
His mother was Cynthia Ann Parker, the daughter of a prominent Texas family. In 1836 she was captured by Comanche during a raid and adopted with the name of Nadua. After a time she married Peta Nacona, and they had three children: Quanah, Pecos, and a daughter Topsana.
In 1860 the Texas Rangers raided their viliage and killed almost everyone. Nadua was recognized as “white,” however, and she was returned to the Parker family with her two young children. Peta Nacona and the young Quanah returned home from hunting to find most of their people killed. None of the survivors knew what had happened to Nadua and the two children.
Nadua refused to settle back into life as “Cynthia Ann.” She begged ceaselessly to be returned to her husband and the Comanche people. When her little Topsana died Nadua despaired. She starved herself to death and was buried beside her daughter in the cemetery at Fort Sill Texas.
Her husband did not fare better. Not long after the Rangers’ raid Peta Nacona was wounded in a battle with Texans. Shortly after that he was wounded again, this time fatally. Before he died he called Quanah to him and told his son what he learned about the fate of his wife and the two young children. The Comanche do not go much in for love stories, but it is obvious that the loss of Nadua had been a great loss to Peta Nacona.
That is the story. Unlike many mixed marriages it was happy, and its ending very sad. In later years Quanah, too intelligent to harbor bitterness, turned up at the Parker ranch and became acquainted with his white relatives. It was there that he learned ranching.
Though he was buried at Fort Sill beside his mother and sister, throughout his life he remained thoroughly traditional. He lived to be the senior chief of the Comanche and one of the founders of the Native American Church.

Short Story: Wolf Mate and She Wolf

Wolf Mate and She Wolf© 2008

It’s been a long hunt for my Wolf Mate
and I, a very long day of sniffing out pray.
The deer have learned well to stand quite
so we pass them by, I am thankful rabbit has
not learned their trick or the young pups wouldn’t have food tonight. We had to travel
much further today for food then yesterday.

My Wolf Mate and I have been running
long and hard to get back to the den.
The pups have water from the snow,
but hunger may make them wonder
away from the cave and they are too
young to go off to far yet.

We see the den high up in the twilight
as we come over the knoll. My Wolf Mate and I are
relieved, yet we speed up though we are tired.
Closing in on the den we hear the welcome whining
of the pups, see their black noses peeking out.
As we come to the opening the pups run to us
jumping and licking us and butting our heads,
happy to have us home. Dropping the rabbits,
my mate and I compliment them on their good
behavior of not leaving the den with out us near.

My Wolf Mate and I give the head nod to the pups to
eat, as we tear one open at the belly for them. The
other, Mate and I eat with great vigor. When we
are done, my Wolf Mate and I lick the pups clean, soon
now they will do this with each other, as Wolf Mate and I
do for each other. Wolf Mate and I tell the pups it’s time
to curl up in back of the den with us in the back of
the den, next to the wall. We are tired after the hunt
for we had to travel far to find food. In we yelp to
the pups if you want to hear of the hunt. Inside we
curl around them and Wolf Mate starts his tale of our
day away from them, as I, She Wolf wonder how far
we will have to journey tomorrow for food. It might
be time to move the pups to a new den closer to where
we are having to travel for food. I will speak of this to

Wolf Mate tomorrow, now it is time to sleep…..