Mayor
by Ted L Glines

Small is cool
don't act the fool
or put it down
I love my town
family small -- butt kickin
three old people and a chicken
no votin for Mayor -- ballot-fest
we just take an IQ test
here's the fact and I ain't  funnin
it's been the chicken -- three years runnin
Mayor Clucker on parade
we three watchin from the shade
chicken shore does strut her stuff
pass the hooch -- cain't get enough
Mama's cookin -- finger lickin
pass the biscuits -- pass the (*oh oh*)
wipe your mouth and say a prayer
cause we just gobbled up the Mayor

Author's Notes: Dang!  Always did  say the Mayor had good taste. Small towns have a way  of treating politics with  pure irreverence. Go into Nana's Family  Diner here in New Boston, Texas, any  morning between 6:30 AM and  8:00 AM and you'll find yourself in the middle of a  gabfest between  all the people who govern and run this tiny city. All of them  are  older folks; Mayor, City Council (persons) , Chamber of Commerce,  police and  fire chiefs, newspaper editor, all of them grew up  here together, dated each  other's siblings, got into wild mischiefs  together, and have grown gently old  together. You'll never hear  a political word out of any of them, unless it's  lambasting the  idiots in Austin or Washington. Most likely the conversation will  be about whose granddaughter is dating whose grandson, or about  some crazy  outsider who's just moved into town. Small towns are  that way. Speaking of  which, we better put an ad in the paper  for a "Chicken with Ambition." Oh, and  Patty came up with the  title for the poem. She's a keeper.

Medieval Times
by Ted L Glines

another knight's royal multicolor play
donning disguises - for humor and pay
dinner theater - Queen's court of Faust
with breakaway lances - hail the joust
fickle diners yell for Green - then scream for Red
no one roots for Black - we'll have his bloody head

it's the Black and the Red - dueling with might
only one knight can win in this grisly fight
someone yells a curse - "Down with Bloody Black!"
but Black broke his lance and he's  flat on his back
now Red and Green - it's a fight to the death
the crowd's on its feet - all holding their breath
the Red almost won it - he's knocked from his horse
and the Green takes the honors - the favorite of course

antagonisms staged - guests feast in delight
suburban anger - anarchy and fright

the Green gets a rose from the Queen's pretty  hand
her winning knight - defending her land
the crowd goes crazy in standing ovation
Green bows and smiles - his obligation

an hour of fun - some social ires released
and the people go home with frustrations decreased
off with the costumes - to work we go
time to clean up for tomorrow knight's show

Author's Notes: Medieval  Times is  my all-time favorite dinner show, and their "serving  wenches" seem so much  better than normal waitresses (all part  of the show) . When you've been there  several times, you'll note  the "regulars" - that boisterous bunch across the  arena - are  really the cheer leaders for the whole show.

Mark Glines
by Ted L Glines

It was nineteen-ninety-four - summer
had to send my son away - bummer,
it was to spare him from harm's way
but I deeply rued that day
that drove our paths thus wide apart
and made a vacuum in my heart.

And thru the years - the question posed
"Where's your son?" - and I supposed
we'd find each other some sweet day
I knew not the means nor way
the ache remained for all those years
of helplessness and stifled tears.

Then on one sunny day - so mellow
came an email - just said "Hello?"
from "Mark Glines" - I shied away
must be a scam to blight my day
a hacker's trick with fangs replete
another cause to hit "delete."

I danced around it for a bit
but of course I opened it
and there he was - oh yes - you bet
my son had prowled the Internet
with skillfulness beyond his dad
and I was very - very glad!

So now one hole in this old heart
has been refilled and that's a start
we're still apart by many miles
but we're together in our smiles
if someone asks - I can tell
my son is safe and doing well!

Author's Notes: What's this, Ted,  emotional about  something? As always, Friday the 13th (this time  - May 2005) brings something  special for me! Obviously, after  more than a decade, Mark and I have a lot of  catching up to do  - and we have begun. Miles? Quite a few. Mark is in Lake  Tahoe,  California, which is a fairly long walk from New Boston, Texas.  He sails  The Lake as I once did, and ten years has morphed him  from an aspiring computer  geek into a full-fledged computer programmer.  It's safe to say that Dad is very  proud of him! This poem is a  very special hug for Mark.