two years of blogging

Today marks two years since I started to blog
When I started to do this, I felt in a fog
I didn't know just what to write
Started thinking with all my might

I thought of folks from near my place
Folks who've never seen my face
Their support and motivation
The best of all in this great nation

Started writing about the band
One of the best bands in the land
Of their show and my mistakes
Amazing how many of those one makes

The IGA closed and we were sad
Opened again, and we were glad
My grandson Ben was the first to buy
The owner is a super guy

The WIXYcam is taking shots
Of marching bands and vacation spots
I too some pics of the traveling wall
Of the Rittman boys playing ball

Blogged about my family, my wife and mother
You helped me grieve the loss of my brother
You saw grandchildren of which I'm proud
If you don't believe me, I'll say it again loud

I have new friends from near and far
Some places I couldn't get to by car
From the deep south to the Midwest
And overseas you're all the best

the best band in the land

The Rittman Indians Marching Band
They are the best, I take my stand
The student musicians have the gift
To give the crowds a special lift

The band director's named Ed Sims
He'd be excited directing hymns
All the students groan at his jokes
Sometimes his humor is just a hoax

The majorette leader, Becky Cline
Gets teased a lot, but she is fine
The majorettes they twirl and spin
To not have them would be a sin

The boosters, they are a loyal crew
Without them we would be in a stew
They volunteer they're chaperons
And other things, these precious stones

Our band, they march, they do not walk
Their marching show is not just talk
They hit their notes and hit their marks
Their enthusiasm really sparks

And now it's time for me to go
Thursday night is our first show
We will be in Mogadore
See us then, you will not snore

This Cliff Note is written later
The weather was fine for an alligator
The show was called off because of rain
And lightning too I must explain

my messy desk

My desk is all cluttered
This thing is a mess
It shows I am sloppy
To this I confess

I know where my stuff is
Though all you may not
You think I should clean it
And not leave a spot

I know where my tools are
And even my phone
I know that I'm sloppy
I'm not even alone.

I will clean it someday
Throw papers away
Write a poem about it
But it won't be today

Ode to the WIXYmobile aka Rolls Canardly

I drive the WIXYmobile to work
Great gas milege is the perk
At certain speeds, it starts to shake
A real smooth ride, it doesn't make

I cannot park it on the soil
Because it leaks a lot of oil
Noisy muffler I had to replace
Way too loud, just like a race

There was rust, but just a speck
And then my son got in a wreck
Busted glass and bent up hatch
The replacement did not match

I drive the car now to my job
Folks must think that I'm a slob
They laugh at me and call me poor
But unlike them, my car's paid for

Cliff Note:I call my car a Rolls Canardly. It rolls down one hill and can 'ardly make it up the next.