That you'll have fun, moreover

Fancy will improve!

New Camden Times

MY COW    © Port Whitman Times 2005
Miss Billington was a kinder, gentler teacher, but we knew she had a will of iron, kept in reserve for use when needed. But for a first grader who was probably too young (5) for the class, she was an awesome personage, and what she said went. No student rights or any of that stuff at Columbus school. We learned or we flunked. As I didn't want to be left back, I of course learned right along with the others, despite my tender years. In fact I did rather well, considering, and later on even skipped a grade so that I wound up 2, sometimes 3 years younger than my classmates.
     On this day, Miss Billington, to test our artistic aptitude, asked everyone to draw a red and white cow. Easy enough. Each of us was equipped with a red crayon, one of those big thick crayons that fill up your whole little hand, to do the job.
     We set to work, and I manufactured my cow, your basic rectangle for a body, a skewed rectangle for a head, with lines for a neck, legs and a tail, finally installing oval eyes and a closed mouth. Udders I hadn't encountered, so they were, literally, out of the picture. My cow was plain, efficient, easy to feed. Of course with such a simple drawing, I was one of the first done, taking it up to turn in to Miss Billington. I layed it on her desk, and noticed her eyes widen as it came into view. "No, Henry, I said a red and white cow" she instructed. Of course... As I took my cow picture back to my desk, I noted the elaborate designs, pinto, spotted, etc., that the others were incorporating into their animals. Very artistic to be sure, showing great imaginations, even fantasies painted on these laconic animals that merely eat, give milk and make chips.
     At my desk, I proceeded to continue along the same lines originally established with my efficient cow, drawing a line through the middle of the body and coloring the lower half of the rectangle red, leaving the upper part, including the head, plain, the color of the paper. Back up I went again to teacher's desk, which now sported a line of maybe three others, waited my turn, and placed my drawing in front of her. With a perfectly straight face she accepted it, giving me a sideways glance that spoke volumes about what she thought of my masterpiece, and that was the end of it.      Well, almost...
     After everyone was done, the drawings were pinned up on the wall for fully a week, showing the bright designs of which the others were capable, and of course my pure and efficient effort. Then came PTA, which all the parents attended, and I got the picture that my artistic talent was not as "matured" as that of the others. But that didn't matter, I got the job done, and my cow left much to the imagination‹of the viewer. Needless to say, Art didn't become my forte. But then who knows what could have been, had I been exposed to the cubism of Picasso & Braque, or if they had been first grade teachers instead of immortal artists.  Henry Francisco


©Port Whitman Times

Haiku – plain thought
Tries to say what ought
To be understood
Or at least what could
Wind up fancifully wrought

Supporting our weight, floors
Act much the same as doors:
Set up limitations
Beyond which migrations
Later can lead to wars

Floors are for trading,
Supporting; evading
Descent to abysses,
Thus one simply misses
Decay that's pervading

With wires draped o'er
Our lives we explore
Currents that bring us
Lo! Gingerly fling us
To realms containing much more

Brighten your outlook!
Roads might be took
Curiosity quenchers
Bringing adventures
In which exists– a book!

It's all imagination
Forming the foundation
Of a life lived well
Which we later tell  
With extravagant elation

Worrying's the fun
Of old age if one
Lives to senescence
Before obsolescence
Turns into "over and done"

Kiss me one time more
Thus romance to explore
In my mind anyway
Whose thoughts go astray
Reminiscing mementos of yore

The spirit persists
While the body exists
But gives way to affliction
Consequential eviction
To thence and of what it consists

                            Henry Francisco

Slow down readers' thinking
To the speed of your inking.
That's all writing is
Gee whiz!
From what were you shrinking?

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