Undaunted

His head spun and he fell

Unable to stand, memory lost

Serious injury and hospital

Becomes a reality check

That scares every teammate.

But we shall go forward, undaunted.

“One game at a time,” they say.

Comes with spirited “Good Lucks.”

We nod, smile and say “Thanks”

Yet this game is different

There’s more than a win or loss

But we shall go forward, undaunted.

So, as we ride the bus as a team

We shall joke, chat and strategize.

And our hearts will thrum eagerly.

as we hunger for the field,

Yet, cool, with nonchalance and a grin

We shall go forward, undaunted.

The Sound of Words

The sound of words being made

Started out scratching quill to parchment.

Sharp tip scrapping ink into scrolls

Scratching out the scrawl of ideas,

The scent of poems, the essence of humanity.

Gutenberg, with a pull and a spin

Banged large plates together to sound out

Like a bell the equality of books.

Bringing news to all, sharing knowledge,

And bellowing thoughts of revolution.

The key of a typewriter strikes. Whap!

Slapping metal into ribbon on to the page.

Words tattle and rattle from aching fingers

Cachunking a carriage with a whiz after a bell.

Words soft and hard speak stories of life.

With a whir and a hum, the power excels,

A silver ball bounces and bangs along.

Words form quickly with the dance of thought.

And with a shift of white and a shuffle back,

Words disappear, to be resurrected more clear.

Now, the words wink with the soft clicking

As fingers tap through the digital glow.

Printers whisper quietly, paper hisses into trays.

Though the flow of energy is hushed and subdued,

The sound of making words still thunders on.

May 2002