#4: Memphis is Good for Poetry

Louisiana-Bound! (2008) Part 4 of 40: Memphis is Good for Poetry Ah, Memphis, Tennessee, how nice to arrive there early morning on April 16. Instructions before leaving the bus were vague. The bus pulled in around 7:10 a.m. A schedule board inside the terminal showed our departure time at 9:55 a.m. Finally a long break! Yet, we were anxious to be on our way, at least I was. This time Melanie and I walked into the terminal together. She could wait in line with the backpacks while I went outside and got our luggage. And the restrooms also were near. It worked well. I waited for the bags to come on the large carts and then wheeled them in with my bag on top of Melanie's suitcase on wheels. Then we left the luggage and relaxed. We walked around a lot. Maybe we had breakfast there, I am not sure. Sometimes we went outside but didn't stay long. Time flew by and we got in line. Our luggage was saving our spot for us. I suggested Melanie take a seat because the boarding announcement was late in coming. She did that. Then another seat opened close to where we were standing. She moved into that one. Now it would be easy to help her get in line. Our position was good. Although a few extra people managed to somehow get in front of us, we were still close to the front of the line. My next poem was written in Memphis. Poem About Life Walk down the roads when you're young The paths by which your heart was won And there will be a picture in your brain Which In the next life won't be the same. Climb the hills when you still are strong Age will weaken you before too long Maybe climb yourself a mountain or two There could be surprises in store for you. Sacrifice for your kids when you're young Soon they will be grown up and long gone But are likely to cherish the times they had In their early years with their mom and dad. Go to the house of merriment occasionally Enjoy your labor's fruit, whatever it may be But visit the house of mourning more often So to ponder your existence before the coffin. When your words have finally been written And you've enjoyed singing your last refrain All accomplishments go through the siftin' And only righteous character gets on the train. Actions speak clearly when words aren't heard Fruits that give character come from the 'Word' So accomplish good deeds that are on your plate And accept service so growth for others don't wait. Written by Harvey A. Bond April 16, 2008 The Memphis area must have been good for writing. Waiting to Board the Bus The bus pulled in around sevenish time Together we walked into the bus terminal Melanie patiently waited in the short line Before the Louisiana boarding area was full. Harvey went outside for both their luggage But the bags weren't early within his reach The baggage unloader got off to a fine start But the Bond's bags were on the last cart. At last he found both pieces, blue and black Stacked the blue on top and wheeled it back To where Melanie was patiently waiting in line He had been gone about ten minutes in time. Together they could leave their saved place And go to the restroom without having to race Then Melanie watched the bags a second time While Harvey got a coke and lemonade/lime. Eventually he felt their line would see action Though loading was like a turtle in traction Harvey enjoyed relaxing like a content toad Waiting sure beats carrying a heavy load. Finally when boarding waited once again Delays didn't seem to have any quick end A late running greyhound had not yet arrived With passengers on board who needed a ride. Written by Harvey A. Bond April 16, 2008 The story continues on the bus. A Kind Deed is Recognized And it is kind of funny and maybe not so We were all quite ready to say the word go But a young mother with a child had no seat And what almost happened wasn't so neat. Of course I offered my seat to the mother And she was pleased but there was no other So I stood in the center of the main aisle But remained there for a very short while. A man said you can't stay on without a seat But the seat checking lady was very sweet She said they would clear a seat near the driver Then I knew that I would be a traveling survivor. She was aware I was traveling with a blind mate And not planning for me a get off the bus fate Then a another person disembarked on his own Why I don't know, but in his vacant seat I was goin'. Written by Harvey A. Bond April 16, 2008 Then the bus rolled along and as I thought of a poem or is it a song. I'll save it for later so this won't be too long. Written by Harvey A. Bond May 3, 2008

 

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