Does it rain in California?

 Does it Rain in California?

By

SK VIRTUE

I sit here on this rainy morning in Montana watching the droplets landing on the window and slowly soaking into the dry soil and I wonder does it ever rain in California? My daughter lives in California and right now I am missing her terribly. I know she would tell you it rains in California but not enough.

 

I think back to a conversation we had the other day about having the best of both worlds. What if we could have a California climate and a Montana sky. She tells me that is what she remembers the most about Montana. The sky goes on forever and it's so blue!

 

I can look out my kitchen window and see the rolling hills for miles. I know back there somewhere is the interstate but its way back there and I can't see it, so to me it’s not there. The cows are grazing contentedly, and one or two pronghorn antelope wander in and out of the picture. Once about every ten days a coyote lopes through stopping only to sniff the wind and then wander on. I hear birds singing in the breeze that floats by. Ahhhhhhh Montana with the wide-open spaces and rolling hills.

 

But I digress...... I suppose it rains in California. Just as it does here in Montana. And I know that interstate that I can't see would take me all the way to California to see my daughter who I am missing terribly. And then I could truly tell you that yes...... yes it does rain in California. Oh, to have the best of both worlds.......

Excerpt from:

Amazon.com: Travel Thoughts: Musings of a traveler on a road trip from Montana to California….and back. eBook : Virtue, SK, Virtue, SK: Kindle Store

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

AUTUMN

 

The hot days of summer have come and gone,

I open the gate and Autumn dances in.

In all of her brazen glory and childish splendor

Autumn breezes by with a cool morning kiss and a rustling of leaves. 

Autumn spreads her cloak of crackling leaves 

On the ground beneath my feet.

And motions for me to share a warm

cup of cider.

I shiver as Autumn's cool breath of air 

Touches my cheek.

Autumn giggles in colorful glee.

As leaves twirl around me.

I gather my sweater close to me

And watch as Autumn dances

On the orange pumpkins

And skips through the 

yellow corn stalks.

The whimsical color of Autumn

doesn't last long though.

Autumn is a capricious soul.

Autumn is giddy and frivolous.

Soon Autumn will skitter off

When the cold presence of Old Man Winter

bellows in with a snowy roar and bone chilling iciness.

SK VIRTUE

Scars of Freedom

 

Scars of Freedom

 

I met a lady on a well-traveled road.

She held a burning torch in her hand.

In her eyes I could see tales of all

The struggles faced in this land.

 

The cloak that she wore wasn’t new.

It was ragged and well worn.

It hid scars beneath the red, white and blue.

Scars that told a story.

 

She pointed at an old, faded scar.

One I could barely see.

“In 1776 I earned this scar.”

“This one is called Free.”

 

She pointed to a second scar.

“This one ended a civil war in 1865

And brought freedom for so many.

But so many fought this war and died.”

 

One by one she pointed at

Scars new and old.

And I listened to the stories

That each scar told.

 

I cried more tears than there were stars.

For the loss of lives and the pain that she bore.

In this heavy coat of ragged scars

That she so proudly wore.

 

She looked at me and saw my tears

She smiled and said, “Don’t weep.

The scars are here for all to know

Our freedom and democracy.”

 

I noticed the lady stood tall and proud

As I went on my way.

I saluted that lady in the ragged cloak.

God Bless the USA!

 

SK Virtue

We Met

 

The poem that started it all.

My very first poem in sixth grade.

 

We Met

We met beside the telephone pole.

Somewhere along the line.

I looked into his eyes and smiled

And he looked into mine.

 

I touched his hair with my hand.

He made a soft sweet sound.

I will tell you, tell you all I can.

It felt like soft, sweet down.

 

I whispered in his ear a wish,

“I would like to take you home.”

He gave my cheek a tiny lick

And purred a fuzzy groan.

 

But all good things must come to an end.

The way they always do.

I put the little gray kitten down

And went on my way to school.

SK VIRTUE