Love Poem: One O' These Days - Both Audio and Text
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Written by: Mark Stellinga

One O' These Days - Both Audio and Text

My father, like a lot of dads, was always making statements,
vowing that the three of us would take exotic trips.
The ones we actually took were simply journeys into town… 
his promised ones were those that called for trains, or planes…or ships. 

“One o’ these days,” he told me once, “we’ll run on down to Bixby…
an’ you an’ me an’ Mom ‘ll see ourselves a picture show!
We’ll wait until they say they’re showin’ a Jimmy Stewart film. 
When Jimmy’s in ‘em…don’t take much to get you’re mom to go.  

“I’m sure we’ll have to beg a bit ‘cause movies ain’t exactly 
somethin’ she’d be quick to pick for how to spend a buck.
And you know mother - bless her soul - she’d sooner buy the makin’s 
for clothes we need…or make an extra payment on the truck.  

“An’ one of these days the three of us ‘ll see that darned Hawaii. 
We’ll sell the old jalopy that your Granddad passed us down. 
Up until you came along that car was all we had,
aside from that old buggy, son…fer makin’ runs to town. 

“No idea how much it costs to fly to them there islands, 
but shouldn’t be a whole lot more than Grandpa’s car ‘d bring.
Ya’ know, Laverl…except for when we made that trip to Denver 
to make your Uncle Leonard’s funeral…we ain’t done a thing!

“An’ one of these days we’ll lock this place up tight and take a road trip.  
We’ll see that ol’ Grand Canyon…then head north and see Pike’s Peak.
Maybe we should give some thought to buyin’ a station wagon… 
I’m sure that doin’ both those things would take us near a week!

“Trouble is, like most of us who farm, it’s mostly winter-times 
that offer opportunities to take a family trip.
We’d booked a flight to Birmingham, remember - last November - 
to see Aunt Pearl, but canceled when your mother broke her hip.

“An’ one of these day, I promise, son…I’ll drag out that old jon boat.
We’ll fix that leak an’ take ‘er down to Silver Glacier Lake.
I know your mom ‘d go for that ‘cause - every single summer 
she lets me know that goin’ there’s a trip she’d love to make. 

“Fishin’ ain’t expensive, and it ain’t but forty miles, 
so, more than likely, that’s one place we’ll actually get to go.
I know I’ve made some lofty claims for things I’d like to do,  
and if we’ll ever get them done, well…I don’t rightly know…

“But, one of these days, I’ll keep my word…an’ you an’ me an’ Mom
‘ll take whatever dough we’ve got and - like you know we’ve tried -
pack our bags and head to -- who knows where.”     Trouble is…
at somewhere close to nine o’clock last night……my father died!



PS: I've got 4 new CDs - @ 4 1/2 hours each = (62 diversely varied poems), listed on EBAY - under - “Mark Stellinga Poetry” - should those of you who travel care to be so entertained. (We use PayPal)

Cheers,
Mark