Friends

It chanced, one night, a young lad's friend
Had seen his melancholy state,
And sought to cheer him up a bit,
In his own, familiar, way.

"Buck up, my friend," he told him,
"You shouldn't be so blue.
There's fish a-plenty, in the sea.....
Come on.....Let's have a brew".

"We'll see what's happening at the bars,
And pat the skirts that pass;
Grab what joy we can from life.....
It hurries by, too fast".

"Find yourself a likely girl;
I might, in fact, join in.
It's time you had yourself a fling,
And a little taste of sin".

"Be more like me," his friend crowed,
"With a wife and a mistress, too".
"My friend.....I agree," the lad thought,
"For I have.....If only you knew".

Written Jan. 1978 by James R. Hoye

The Could've Been Cowboy

I was born a city boy.....
But that's not the way it should have been.
I yearn for those golden days of yore,
When gals was gals and men was men;

When giants walked the smog-free Earth.
And legendary deeds was done.
T'was then a man could show his worth.
'Pains me to think what I missed out on.

Coyotes howl at the misty moon.
The Wild West ended....much too soon.

I never got to brand a steer;
Never got to punch a cow;
Never tied no dogies down.
Never-mind I don't know how.

I never wrestled with a bear;
Never stared down a rattlesnake;
Never rescued a maiden fair,
But I could.....make no mistake.

I could've pulled a wildcat's tail,
Or turned a tide of buffalo.
I could've shot a black-hat down,
Or maybe, scalped a fallen foe.

I could've rode a buckin' bronc;
Could've made a flying mount.
I did that once at a "Bawdy House",
But most folks tell me that that don't count.

Coyotes howl at the mystic moon.
The Wild West ended....much too soon.

I studied all the old-time flicks.
I know just how the West was won.
I've honed my skills on video games
'Til I'm mighty handy with a gun.

I paid my dues on mechanical bulls;
Drank whisky-neat 'til the sun came up.
I practiced singing out-a tune
'Til even the walls begged me to stop.

Well, I couldn't make my bed roll-up,
So I got me a fancy sleeping bag,
And a backpack, and Coleman stove and stuff.
Now, all I need is a faithful nag.

Hi, Honey!					
I picked up a new pair of snakeskin boots,
And I look great with my wool chaps on.
Just top it off with my ten gallon hat,
And it's plain to see where I belong.

Coyotes howl to the mournful moon.
The Wild West ended.....much too soon.
To me.....those coyotes sound mighty fine.
I'm a cowboy born.....in the wrong dang time.

Written in 1982 by James R. Hoye

The Curmudgeon

They call him a Curmudgeon,
An angry old man
Raging against the world,

And he is........

Although he might protest 
That he is lovable as well.

Indeed, when he was ill,
All were concerned.

W.C. Fields was of this ilk,
Hater of Children,
And Mother’s milk,
But well loved for all of that.

And Mark Twain, Groucho Marx, 
And Archie Bunker, too			
Were members of that clan,
Noted for their sharp tongues,		   
Though each had their fans.

And Curmudgeonhood is not confined to males.
For Phillis Diller holds her own
As does Joan Rivers and Miss Piggy,
And many others, less well known,
(Like, perhaps, your mother-in-law).

And such females are usually called Harridans
(Except in less polite circles,
Where they’re sometimes known as Bitches).

So what are Curmudgeons really like, then.
		
Well.......let’s see.......
 
They’re as sensitive and soft-hearted
As any might be, 
But hide their vulnerability
Beneath a crust of misanthropy.
Because offense is their only defense.
Against this crazy world.

They don't hate mankind, 
Just mankind's excuses.
They abhor deception and search for truth				
Even when that’s something,
That some don’t want to hear.
				
They question the motives of everyone,
Particularly politicians,
And  expect the worst from all,
And are seldom disappointed.			
But there’s nothing like hypocrisy    
To bring on bouts of apoplexy.

And they can’t understand why everybody
Criticizes their negative attitude
Toward’s all that’s mundane and mindless.
(Like almost anything on TV 
that isn’t carried on PBS,
And even some of that)

And they won’t pretend indifference
Just to appease their friends,
For what would be the point of that
If nothing changed in the end.
				
And they don’t take compliments very well,
For they question their sincerity
And they think that praise
Undermines their ways .......     
And they may well be right in that.
				
Yet, it’s easy to get along with them,    
If you’re willing to follow their rules.
They can’t stand sentimentality
Nor can they tolerate fools.

And they can't figure why some are rich 
While others are so poor,
Or why the ones who have the most
Are the ones wanting more.

Is there anything wrong in that?

No one notices when they give to charities,
Or pays attention when they help out friends,
Or feels their pain when they’re touched by tragedy
Or sees them cry o’er what might have been.

How misunderstood Curmudgeons are.....

It takes a lot of work to be one
And offers them no recompense,
For few are there who can relate
So it’s often a lonely existence.            

But someone has to do it........
To shed light in the darkness
And lead all to the truth.

And if all of these things
Have meaning to you,
Take care, my friend,
You might be one, too.

Congratulations.

Written Jul 1985 by James R. Hoye

In His Image

In a remote mountain valley far away,
And in a time equally far removed,
A couple lived in peaceful solitude
With their faithful sheepdog Lady,
Who’d been with them, for what seemed forever.

And, Lady had recently given birth to pups,			
Despite her advanced age,
And despite the fact that no dog, nor wolf, nor coyote, 
Who could have been the father,
Had been seen around the area,
		
Still, they’d given it no second thought.

And, together the couple quietly raised their sheep and crops
And traded both for tools and food,
And seldom saw other folks at all,
And life was good..

They never gave much thought to religion,
Nor had any reason to feel they should,
But that changed......

A horde of missionaries descended upon them,
(sensing potential converts), 
And did their best to make it so,
			
Each claimed to represent the only path,
And their arguments reflected
Interesting aspects of their cultures,
And unique ways of looking at things.		

And, as each came by, 
The couple listened carefully
To all they had to say, 
And even their dog listened attentively,
(Nodding sagely from time to time).

And, they promised to consider
Everything they had been told,
Although the experience left them cold.

And, when the missionaries had departed, 
The wife turned to her husband and asked, 
“And how are we supposed to know
Which is the “true” Supreme Being 
And what the correct way to worship Him might be?” 

The husband just scratched his head and agreed 
That he was just as puzzled as she, 
And as they tried to sort things out, 
Lady watched them quizzically....

She seemed strangely amused at their confusion.  
And after they’d discussed it  for quite a while, 
She let out a small “yip” to catch their attention, 
And then began to speak.......
(Much to their surprise and consternation).

“Each of these who have spoken to you
Have told you part of the truth, 
Based on their own way of looking at things,
But all without any proof. 

There is only “one” Supreme Being, 
Regardless of the many names that He, 
(Or should that be She), is called.. 

He loves all His children equally,
And will always be there for them all,
Showing NO preferences.

He only asks that they love each other
And show one another respect 
And treat everyone as they wish to be treated.”
				
“But that means...” they both interrupted,
But their dog interrupted right back,

“The Universe is what it is,
Regardless how it’s viewed
And, if you hold to that, you will always be 		        
On the right path to the truth”,
 
And, as the dog finished speaking, 
She seemed to fade from view,		
Then, disappeared in a flash of light, 
Leaving them sorely confused.

“Do you think?”, asked the Wife.....
”I don’t know” her husband replied. 

Then the wife gave a small gasp, 
Realizing that, with their dog gone, 
They had no way to herd and control their sheep,

Her husband just smiled,
 And reminded her of Lady’s pups			
And, even as he told her that, 
They emphasized his words,
By yipping from the back room
And they realized, then,  
That all, indeed, would be all right,

And it was.

Only two further things are there that must be said.
None of the pups ever spoke a word,
But all proved quite good at herding sheep, 
And  none of those missionaries 
Were ever seen or heard from again.

Surprise!........Surprise!
(Not to mention....Amen).

Written June 2004 by James R. Hoye

A Knight's Tale

In the kingdom of Serendipity,
Where knighthood was still in flower, 
Their Knights sat at a longtable,
(Which would never be mistaken 
For King Arthur’s roundtable, 
Either in it’s shape,
Or in the quality of its Knights), 
			
And one of their Knights,
Who was named Rodney,
Was well liked by all, 
As he was affable and easy going,
(Not to mention the son of the king), 

But as a knight, 
He was more than a little inept, 
(Which was putting it mildly),.

For when he first mounted his horse in full armor,  
He kept falling off the other side,
Until they allowed him an extra squire, 
To hold him on so that he might mount,  
And get his balance so that he could ride.     
				
And when he first tried to wield a lance,
He ended up embedding it in the ground,
And found himself hanging in the air,
Until his fellow knights could help him down,   
And he de-horsed himself when he hit his target 

Still, he kept his sense of humor,
And they liked him for that, 
As well as for his persistence,  
(For there was no “quit” in him).

And he actually didn’t do too badly with swords, 
(Either long or short), 
For he had good reflexes and a strong arm, 		
but he lacked a killer instinct, 
And seemed unable to take advantage 
Of his opponents lapses or weaknesses,

(Which usually resulted 
In their taking advantage of his).

Never-the-less, Rodney kept trying 
To do knightly things,
For he wished to impress the Princess Anne, 
Who had more suitors 
Than the kingdom itself held people, 
and flirted ceaselessly with all of them,
 
(Much to Rodney’s complete
consternation).

‘Though, in truth, she’d known Rodney
Since they were children, 
And had always liked him, 
(Despite his flaws),
And  had long since set her cap for him, 

(although he didn’t know that
and wouldn’t have believed it 
If you told him).

So it came to pass,
There were rumors of a dragon
On the western edges of the kingdom,
And all the knights volunteered 
To search it out and kill it,
But when the time came 
For mounting an expedition,
All came up with excuses to drop out,
Until Rodney stood alone.

Now, Rodney, secretly,
Would have loved to back down as well,
But he saw Anne and his father,
Beaming at him with pride,
And knew that this was his chance
To prove himself as a Knight,

And a good luck token from Anne,
And cheers from the crowd, 
Further urged him on,
And so, he was committed.

And on the following morning,
When he actually started out,
Most of the knights traveled with him,
Showing their support, 
And presenting a united front,
			
But they began to drop off one by one,
Explaining that a dragon would never face 
More than a single champion at a time,

(There were, or course, other reasons,
But we won’t go into that).

Now, the dragon had been spotted in a small valley, 
(appropriately called Dragon’s Grove),
That was densely forested, 
Except for a large clearing at its center, 
			
And as Rodney entered the narrow 
But passable path that led there,
The remaining knights cheered him on,
And glanced nervously at each other, 
Privately giving him little chance for survival, 

(Actually they gave him none, 
But felt they could afford to be generous, 
As long as it wasn’t one of them).

Rodney heard their cheers,
But paid little attention to them, 
As he was too busy 
Trying to quell the quaking in his boots, 
But he did, and he went forward..

And when he reached the grove, 
He found only disappointment, 
For it appeared to be empty, 
And devoid of dragon sign, 
No matter how hard he searched, 

(Not even tracks or dragon dung).

And, he was, in fact, ready to give up,
When a great storm approached, 
And a mighty wind arose, 
Buffeting him as he sought shelter 
Beneath the surrounding trees.
		
And then the lightening flashed,
 
An event that, in itself, was enough 
To scare the wits out of him, 
As all knights mortally feared lightening, 
(Even though they didn’t understand 
the concept of iron armor acting as a lightening rod).

And suddenly, through the driving rain, 
A giant form arose, 
(One he would have sworn 
Hadn’t been there before) 

A massive shape with hundreds of limbs, 
Thrashing towards him, 
(Surely no dragon - but some creature out of legend), 
And like any good knight, 
(After shitting his britches), 
He pulled himself together 
And lept into the fray. 

His flashing sword hacked mightily around him, 
And cut many limbs through, 
‘Til one of those limbs struck him, 
And he felt himself being lifted, 
And tossed from one to another,
Until, at last, (long last), 
Darkness engulfed him.

Outside of the grove, 
The other knights were aware of the storm.  
Indeed, they were encompassed by it 
As was the whole kingdom, 
(But felt only a fraction of its power).

Then, on the next day, 
When the storm had dissipated, 
The knights slowly gathered together, 
Trying to build up their courage 
To enter the grove and search for Rodney, 

(Presuming and hoping that any dragon 
Would have departed by then),

And they were joined by Princess Anne and the King,
And a host of peasants drawn by the end of the storm.

Together, they entered the Grove,
And, in time, found Rodney 
Hanging upside down in a giant oak tree, 
Some thirty feet above the ground.

“Look at that”, They said, collectively,
“The dragon must have tossed him there”,
And they saw the hacked tree limbs scattered about and said, 
“It must have been a tremendous battle”.

And Rodney listened to them for a while,
And was extremely flattered by their comments,
And pleased with what he heard, 
But he was an honest, (and true) knight,
So he shouted out to get their attention,
And told them how it had really happened.

“There was NO Dragon,” he told them,
“And the only battle was between me, the wind and this tree”.

At first, the crowd was simply stunned ,
Until some callow knight 
Started laughing uncontrollably, 
And when people began staring at him, 
He managed to explain, 
Between bursts of laughter,
That the knight they had thought so brave 
Had been felled by a tree.

And, at that, they all started laughing, 
And pointing at Rodney in derision,
Until a tiny bundle of fury named Anne
Burst into the crowd and screamed them down.

“Stop it, Stop it” she cried, 
“What right have any of you to criticize....

Did you enter this grove, 
When you thought a dragon was here?   
Did any of you face the storm
And it’s lightening on your own, 

And would any of you 
Have had the courage or honesty 
To admit what actually happened?”

“Moreover”, she went on, breathlessly, 
“You don’t even know him.....

Who do you think it is, 
That councils the king in judging disputes?
Who do you think acts as a diplomat 
To our neighboring kingdoms, 
And who do you think draws up our battle plans, 
When we enter into war”. 

And all started to respond,
That the King did all these things, 
(Because they believed he did),
But the King was nodding in agreement, 
(Although he wasn’t fond
Of having his secrets revealed), 
And muttered, “Tis True...Tis True”. 

And all were amazed at what she said, 
And all were ashamed at their own behavior, 
Save one who was bursting with pride,
(And perhaps something else),
			
And, (after having been lowered to the ground), 
Limped over to Anne, 
And touched her gently on the cheek. 

And speaking to her, And to all),
He said, “Thank you fair lady,
For your words do me honor,
And I have learned much in this grove....
That it is better to concentrate 
On what one does best,
And not try to be what you’re not,
But, most importantly,
To learn from one’s mistakes.

And with that he kissed her,
(A kiss that was returned in full), 
And all cheered,

And, in due time, 
There was an announcement,		
And a wedding,. 
And everyone lived happily ever after.

And there is a Footnote......
  
In the days, (and years) that followed, 
Rodney continued to perform his knightly duties
And did them adequately, (if not spectacularly),
Now that the burden of proving himself 
Had been lifted from his shoulders.

And, eventually, he became a fine king,
And all was well in the kingdom of Serendipity.

Written Aug 2004 by James R. Hoye

No One Knows His Name

There was a great and mighty king,
Or, so the story's told,
Who ordered virgins brought to him;
They came, a thousand-fold.

From these, he stole their precious fruit;
Drank full, the human flasks,
And, when he finally grew too old.
His sons took up the task.

I can not tell you who he was,
Just that he knew no shame.
T'was long ago he fell to dust,
And no one knows his name.

Written Aug 1971 by James R. Hoye