An Owed

Owed to January

I remember a few years ago when my friend Joy

gave me a book for my dad to read.

I remember a year or so later when Joy called up, and

she wanted that book back.

Now, I'd never ever asked for the book in the first place.

I was just a go-between who took the book from Joy to Harold.

I thought my responsibility stopped there.

Not with Joy. She wanted the book back and instead of calling Harold,

she called me.

So, I called Harold, who had no idea where the book was. He talked to Mother, who also had no idea where the book was.

That left me in the middle, like I've been a lotta times.

I couldn't bring myself to tell Joy that Harold had no idea where the book which she had wanted him to read and that he had read and put somewhere safe

was to be found.

I think she called me again with a stern Joy reminder that she needed the book and soon. I said I'd remind Harold---of course, buying time. I called my folks and told them Joy was hot after that book.

Again, they turned the house upside down, looking for the book that they never really asked for in the first place. They couldn't find it.

So, my mother went to the book store and ordered the book, which by that time, had made the hard-to-find book list, even among the booksellers. It cost a lot of money to get that new copy for Joy.

When the book came, my mother inscribed a note on the inside cover that began with "Owed to Joy, one book about . . . ."

She delivered the new book to Joy, so I felt good, finally escaping middledum of an uncomfortable situation.

Life went on. Joy had her book, and I learned not to take stuff offered from Joy if someone was gonna lose it. Joy was just that way!

I thought my mother's "Owed to Joy" inscription was pretty clever, so I'm borrowing from my mother's cleverness today and creating an "Owed to January." I won't take it anywhere cuz again what has been borrowed can get lost, and I won't go there anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owed to January

I owe you, January, oh so much.

I owe you sore muscles, sore thumbs and such.

I owe you thoughts of snow so high

I could toss a pie and hit the sky.

I owe you moments of utter disgust

when I went tumbling cuz of that snow's hard crust.

I owe you an apology for taking your name in vain

Cuz

this year you haven't been quite the pain

you've been in the past

as you always seem to last and last and last.

On this penultimate day of your 2009 run,

I must say that you've dealt me a lot of fun.

I've visited with good friends from all walks of life,

and I've been able to avoid a lot of strife.

I've traveled from one end of our county to the other,

and I've quite often been accompanied by my mother.

Unlike last year, she's escaped from her house

several times, and that's good

that escape she could

cuz she sure hasn't found too many reasons to grouse.

The snows of your month have not been so bad;

the weather of late has just made me darn glad.

And, I must say as you draw to a close,

I feel almost downright sad.

But don't get any ideas for this time next year

of thinking that on my list of months you'll always remain so dear.

You must prove yourself, dear January,

cuz way too often you're so darned long

that most people think of you in the same light

as a big ugly GONG.

Oh, January, I do thank you for being so kind,

and making this year's experience a good one in my hypercritical mind.

I doubt that there will ever come another time

when I sit down and write such crazy lines about January that rhyme.

But this year of good first-month memories has been one to behold,

so it's to you, dear January, that so much is owed!

And, when tomorrow---your very last day---draws to a close,

I'll welcome in February and probably stick to just prose!!!!