Bailey's Moon

No world wide trip

or big house with a large tub.

The kid’s pool has patches

and the yard looks like hell.

Yet, I try to tap out a few words

in the low moonlight

hoping that some day I can

just give you more.

And just when I feel I have lost

when my shoulders slump.

You, my angel, my wonderful,

say “I love you.”

Those words hold belief and strength.

I roll my shoulders and sigh,

cinch the knot and ready the rope.

Swirling it, I go to lasso Bailey’s Moon.

To Heidi, for 21 years and more.

In The Box

In the box is

                  a few books, some files,

                                    a pen and some pencils;

                  There’s a coffee cup,

                                    one of many throughout the years;

                  some odds and ends,

                                    a half empty aspirin bottle

                  and a bag of M & Ms of an unknown year,

                                                      A copy of a test from long ago

                                    and a few photos.

But also in the box

                   is a legacy of teaching.

Yes, inside is a trail of headaches,

                  sighs, budget cuts, drop outs,

                                    sick days and missing staff.

But , deep inside are

                  the  faces of many students and teachers,

                                    smiling, enriched, going forward

                  because you gave a damn about them.

There’s

                  the high fives of the kids who finally got it;

                                    the hugs from the kids that needed a hero;

the thanks of fellow teachers  who needed a

shoulder, mentor and coach;

                  and the nodding smile of a principal

                                    knowing your legacy for the school.

The box is quite full,

                  overflowing with your triumph of being

                                    all a teacher can be.

                                     

Building Block

I have a big black of wood on my desk. I have plane to carve things into the black of wood, but that will come about. A lot of students ask about that block of wood and why it is there. Here's the answer.

Building Block

Here’s this block

Take it.

It’s a building block.

The heart is my love

            Notice that it is cut deep into the block.

The D is the dreams for you

            Dream and do.

The infinity symbol is the number of times

            You try before giving up.

The L is for the word Look,

            Look and learn,

                        A lot.

The book means read

            That’s it, just read.

The last side is blank

            It’s for you.

                        Make your own mark.

Here’s this block.

Take it.

It’s a building block.

- Christopher R. Sura

Rockin' Robin

The morning birds of song and news

flicker into our home and enlighten our day.

They broadcast sincerely, eyes bright and wide,

            things that matter and help us on our way.

Yes, into our lives, they do become a part;

            even on our court, basketball they did play.

There’s the sporty blue jay, anchor of the crew;

            of Lions, Tigers and Wings, he does like to sing.

Perched and chipper, the young red cardinal

            tells of the clouds or sun the day will bring.

Live on a fun feature, the Big Boy mockingbird

            grins as he shows wonderful Northland things.

Other news birds do visit and join the chorus

            when our crew vacations or mends a wing.

Which brings me to the lady among the gents,

            the spritely songbird, Rockin Robyn, with love.

She sings loud and clear, strong and steady,

            a proud and colorful bird so unlike the little dove.

I recall the day with chin held high and deep breath

            She told of us her story, her fear and faith above.

Her story of cancer belongs to many sisters,

            and like them, the illness she stoically did shove.

Now, a year and more has past, in health she works.

            Friends, family and northern Michigan does smile.

With a pink ribbon, she remembers those lost and

            champions the fight, a true survivor of the trial.

Our Rockin Robyn rocks in the treetops all day long

             Singing every woman’s song with much love, grace and style.

Lennie and George

And in the moment between

The lead and iron weighing his hand

And his finger tightening

On cold hard sliver of metal,

Their life flashed before the muzzle.

They had struggled on farms and ranches,

And journeyed miles on dusty roads.

They laughed at simple things

And cared for the happy things of

Puppies, rabbits and each other.

He, the giant beyond his own strength,

Rambunctious, joyous, yet tragic,

Brought forth the final act of a friend

Desperate to save, doomed to kill.

The best true, helpless friends can do.