Buffalo Gal Thyra Austin

Buffalo Gal

Thyra Austin

Some people have a cat or dog  ,

Each one with different features;

But Thyra, she has buffalo,

These huge and shaggy creatures.

She and Dan work so hard,

Truly he is her best pal;

And Thyra is to Danny boy,

A real live Buffalo Gal!

Their spread is like the Ponderosa,

Stretching it seems for miles;

The work has its own reward,

‘cause the buffalo makes them smile.

There are many questions asked,

But one from Dan seem right;

He turns to Thyra and asks…

“Buffalo Gal won’t you come out tonight?”

Happy Birthday Thyra Austin!

Don’t be shy, take your bow;

And we’ll lift our glasses high,

To the real live Buffalo Gal!

Larry Sparks

April 2013

The Happy Hodde’s

The Happy Hodde’s

Since High School days they have been together;

Through thick and thin, all kinds of weather.

Her beautiful white hair, always sweet and smiling;

Herman’s wavy hair, the same, just his serious styling.

They’ve worked hard all their life;

The happy Hodde’s, good husband and wife.

Two sons; they raised them right;

With families of their own, walking in God’s light.

Fifty-five years, this woman and man;

Celebrate with friends still hand in hand.

If you want to stay happy, live in one accord;

Keep your hearts in love, and your feet off the dash board!

Larry Sparks

                                                                       July 7, 2013

Too Soon DJ Lynch

Too Soon

DJ Lynch

Too soon the eyes are closing,

At life’s final breath;

Too soon the heart has ceased,

And they close the lid in death

We recall the vibrant young man,

So handsome and so bright;

We see his face so clearly

As his memory conjures sight.

D.J. had such a sweet spirit,

A boy of innocent state;

Forever the youth in glory.

Reunion?  We all must wait.

Too soon life is over,

With a comma placed between;

This earthly life suspended,

Move toward the heavenly scene.

D.J., now hugged in heaven,

No more limitations there;

Free from life’s dark shadows,

Alive, awake and aware!

Larry Sparks

September 2013

The Last Call - Herb L Yones

The Last Call

Herb L. Yones

They gathered every Wednesday night,

To play some Poker with friends;

None of them could ever have known,

How near he was to the end.

Shuffled with divine fingers

Distributed among them all;

Nearly ten o’clock, ten minutes…

One more hand, the last call.

The announcement clearly stated,

As the last hand is dealt;

The clock moves toward the hour

Those final minutes seem to melt.

God alone controls the hour glass,

We know though, what it’s all about;

It’s time to gently fold ‘em

And sit this last one out.

A trumpet blows in glory loud,

A nod from God’s celestial throne;

The escort of the angels coming,

And the child of God goes home.

A peace with God through Jesus Christ,

Herb looked up beyond and passed;

Into the only Heaven there is –

Last call!  Last call!  At last.

Larry Sparks

September 2013

"I KNOW WHY DADDY DRANK"

"I KNOW WHY DADDY DRANK"

I know why Daddy drank.  Such knowledge eluded me as a narrow-minded, ignorant youth who so quickly condemned the morose-eyed monster that made life a terror.  I so often had joined the many on shore raving in hurt and anger at the drunkard.  Were we wrong?  No, not completely because he did create a living hell in the home.  His drinking denied us the very basic necessities of life; food, clothes, house, securities and more than all of that, it gave us a lasting fear we would be like him.

However, as I have grown, a measure of maturity had been added and not without a price of personal suffering.  I neither now condone nor condemn the man.  The act is still hated and I often wonder just what all else this man did that I never knew about.  Alcoholism is both a sin and a disease.  Dad was a weak sinner whether he drank or not.  I remember the small prosperities and peace when he abstained for any length of time.  It was so wonderful that we dismissed all the former charges against him and hope kicked in for a new ear...until for some unknown reason the plague would start again.

We were all victims.  Every family member and friend would be hurt by the liquored up old man.  Dr. Jekyll was soon forgotten and Mr. Hyde began his reign of horror on the innocent members of the Sparks family.  This is all painfully true, with greater detail yet to come but let me return to my original statement.  I know why daddy drank.

It began as a thirteen year old boy.  He was lean, dark and quite handsome.  Add to that the tremendous talent he possessed as a musician, tap-dancer, comedian and singer.  I suppose like any other young man he yearned for the approval of his father.  Richard Napoleon Sparks was an unpleasant man, who owned a mean disposition which made him a threat to his wife and sons.  Only someone void of conscience would take his 13 year old son and make him a drinking buddy.  The hard whiskey no doubt burned his throat the first few swallows then later the systems began adapting to the sour mask taste as the body cravings start.  It doesn't take long to get hooked when you're a boy and cheap whiskey deliberately is shoved at you at home.  Thus, his life as an alcoholic began at a young age at home.  His mother, Irene, was a weak, cowered down person who was helpless to defend her children.  It is certain her body bore the bruises to prove her lack of defense but in those days a woman was out matched by a controlling husband.  Dysfunctional people seem to produce a dysfunctional and that may explain Waymon Levi Sparks drinking to a degree.  But there is more, much more to be said.

In the 1920's and 1930's the booze flowed like a stream and dance clubs sprang up everywhere.  Getting work was hard unless you could entertain, that's where Dad made his bread and butter.  The clubs were also places to meet the wrong people who use and abuse others.  With the country in a depression liquor and laughter made folk forget for a while that they were poor.  As W.L. or nicknamed "Sparky", would play at these clubs, his appetite for women and whiskey grew.  The lax lifestyle became the character building blocks for the rest of his life.  Use people, lie, borrow and don't repay, dirty language, vulgar humor and drink daily.  Above all else, have a good time and work only when needed.  He relished in his ability to con people who were awed by his talent and personality.  He was a type "A plus" by modern terms, over flowing with energy, wit and the bigger the crowd, the more effervescent he became.  It is interesting to note how much of Dad inhabits my life, which I cannot deny.  However, I will later address that issue as to how both good and bad trickle down the same genetic spout into the children.  We are, after all, a sum total of our finitude or birth (where we came from) and the choices we have made in life only colored by the early atmosphere of home.  Even that is a result of parents.  Parents have love but know what it means or how to give it properly. The Bible is the ingredient that changes all the above principles.  The buck stop long enough to give God a chance to change him.  He became more like himself everyday of his life.

In the late thirties and early forties, America moved from depression to patriotism.  War touched every family and most men who could stand up right, hold a gun and cigarette were drafted.  Sparky also was drafted but he was too old to go over-seas, so he became a cook.  He loved military life.  A clean uniform and food to eat with lots of pals and weekend partying.  He rose to tech sergeant fairly easily due to his age and personality.  All criticisms aside he was a decision maker and could lead if needed, though the direction might be questioned due to drinking.

It was during this period of time that soldiers were writing letters to folk back home and local papers were publishing them.  Home town and country girls would write the GI's and fantasize about a Gary Cooper type responding.  A young Irish girl named Iona Fay Murray saw the letter of a Waymon L. Sparks in her local paper.  No age, no background, no character references, just an "I'm lonely, please write."  She did, and the rest is the story of a thirty year storm that never totally subsided till cancer beat the life out of Sparky's body at age 66.