The Swashbuckler’s Quarters

Me Mum

April 26th, 2007 at 7:33 am (The Swashbuckler Series)

ith Mother\\\’s Day approaching, I just couldn\\\’t resist including this little bit of fun that I dug up from my “shoebox archives.” \\n\\nIt was on the back of an incomplete work-in-progress, that up until now has remained unfinished, and either needs to be completed, or…\\n\\nBurned! I haven\\\’t decided which;-) \\n

Me Mum

\\nOf all the ventures I\\\’ve chased after\\nI\\\’ve been in brawls and swung from rafters,\\nyet nothing gives me such sweet laughter…\\n\\nAs me luvin\\\’ mum.\\n\\nI\\\’ve gotten lost in coral forests\\nI\\\’ve sung the drunken pirates chorus,\\nBut she sees through me just like I\\\’m porous…\\n\\nThat\\\’s me mum\\n\\nHer temperament is one to savor\\nseasoned through with Scottish flavor\\nshe taps the wits the Good Lord gave her…\\n\\nAye! That\\\’s me mum.\\n\\nAs a lad done bad, she\\\’d fetch a stick\\nI\\\’d get whooped, then me wounds I\\\’d lick\\nIf I back-talked, me poor ear she\\\’d flick…\\n\\nArghhh! That\\\’s me mum.\\n\\nHer prayers finally took a hold\\nWhich kept us all from grief untold\\nShe\\\’s a saint - if I might be so bold…\\n\\nThat\\\’s me mum.\\n\\nWell, I\\\’ve seen the sights, had many pleasures\\nReaped rewards of countless measures\\nBut one of me most cherished treasures…\\nYup…\\n\\nThat\\\’s me mum!\\n \\nYer Swashbuckler - 04/25/2001\\n

ps - She really didn\\\’t beat me as soundly as she should have. I deserved and proudly earned each and every lickin\\\’ that I got (as well as several that I didn\\\’t, but Mum\\\’s the word). Dave

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Swashbuckler’s Mommy

April 23rd, 2007 at 9:46 pm (Occasions, The Swashbuckler Series)

ere’s a little something I wrote fo my mom back in 1989. I placed it in an antique celluloid autograph book (circa 1909) and periodically “borrowed” it back so I could fill it up with more rhythmic musings.

I hope you enjoy it as much as she did. Ya’know, she actually used to get a charge out of teasing me for the fact that I could never read the bloody thing all the way through without tripping over the lump in my throat.

So now you know where my odd sense of humor comes from. (hehe)

Thanks Mom;-)

Swashbuckler’s Mommy

by Dave Franzwa

Each day as I would fall awake
you’d say “good morning dear.”
Like sunshine on a rainy day
you’d shower me with cheer.

And as I dressed,
my mind impressed
with all the day would bring
the things I’d do
time spent with you
my life a song to sing.

Then breakfast you’d make sure I ate
and send me on my way
to kingdoms only I could see
I’d venture off to play.

The lands I saw
struck me with awe
I saved a maiden fair
the dragon knew
his dad I slew
so cowered in his lair.

It made no difference how I went
by land or sea I’d roam
but driven by an emptiness
by lunchtime I’d be home.

And there you’d be
with food for me
and milk to quench my thirst
my trusty steed
you’d also feed
then all my wounds you nursed.

You helped me get undressed when I was
oh, so tuckered out
and as I bathed you’d smile and sigh,
as you turned my pockets out.

The treasures there
beyond compare
you guarded with your life
a cork, a bone,
a smooth flat stone,
a broken pocketknife.

As twilight closed the covers on
the pages of the day
you’d kneel with me beside my bed,
my prayers we would say.

God bless the rich,
God bless the poor,
the young, the old, the lame
thank Jesus Christ
who paid the price
and took away our blame.

Then I’d slip in between the sheets,
and you’d turn down the light,
and kiss me gently pon the cheek…
I knew that all was right.

Then as I slept,
the smile that crept,
across your face spoke love;
from God through you,
a love so true,
my blanket from above.

Those days are now so long ago,
my hair in spots has grayed
you’ve gotten somewhat older too,
memories seem to fade.

But I still feel
that when I kneel
you’re with me when I pray
and heaven knows
my love still grows - Mom
Happy Mother’s Day.

Signature

The Swashbuckler and The Dragon

Say - If you’d like to get yer hands on the pdf complete with poem and graphic before Mother’s Day, just take a poke at this link right here:

==> Swashbuckler’s Mommy

Please feel free to comment.

Comments

Ship in a Bottle

April 9th, 2007 at 8:54 pm (The Swashbuckler Series)

his is a little something that boiled up to the surface in May of 1990.

Back then, I was still battling Demon Rum… whiskey, brandy, tequilla, wine, beer, and any other assorted adult beverages I got my hand on.

For those of you who are grammar fanatics and don’t already know, “hand” was made singular for a reason. Only one of them decided to show up at birth. Thank goodness it’s was my favorite one;-)

Anyway, I was nursing a cup of coffee at a Sherry’s restaurant in Canby, Oregon, while waiting for a favorite cousin (Elroy), to meet me for breakfast.

While I was waiting, this poem dropped in out of the blue. It was all I could do to keep up with the words as they fell from my pencil.

No work, just scribbling that took all of 20 minutes to create. Enjoy.

Ship in a Bottle “5/90″

by Dave Franzwa

Like a ship inside a bottle
I’d built my life with care,
the best materials were used
my craftsmanship was fair.

The hull would withstand, so I thought
life’s rugged shores of stone,
the rudder, hewn with pride, by hand
the course I’d set - my own.

The sails were made of far-fetched dreams
and individually sewn,
so sensitive they’d catch a breath
or a kiss, so lightly blown.

I thought the bottle would protect
my ship from any gale,
and with my own hand on the helm
was certain I’d not fail.

I sailed along without much thought
of other ships at sea,
whatever course I chose - I took
warm breezes carried me.

Until one day when challenged
in the straits of self-belief,
my sails were filled with fear and doubt
I hit an unseen reef.

My bottle broke, a thousand shards
of glass went everywhere,
now tossed into the elements
I sank into despair.

Not since the bay of apathy
with it’s tides of emptiness,
that washed upon those lifeless sands
had I felt such lonliness.

I drifted for the longest time
my mind screamed just to think,
the sea began to boil and churn
my ship commenced to sink.

my heart was gripped with panic
I fell down to my knees,
I begged god to be merciful
and prayed he’d hear my pleas.

At once the mighty seas were calm
the raging storm did cease,
and a precious, gentle voice began
to flood my heart with peace.

Be still, my child, I’m with you now
you’ve nothing left to fear,
you’ve trod this path alone thus far
from this point on I’m here.

I had to let you charge up to
the brink of life and death,
you know me as the carpenter
the one from Nazareth.

I am the stumbling stone of old
upon whom all must fall,
be broken, crushed and raised again
if answering my call.

From here on out I’m with you
no matter where you roam,
my spirit’s here to comfort, til’
I come to take you home.

Until that day, I charge you
live life and follow me,
don’t worry how you’ll manage it
my strength abounds in thee.

I consider now, each item
I surrendered at the cross,
and grateful as I hit my knees
I’ve suffered no real loss.

And now each morning, as I rise
I thank God for my life,
I thank him for my humble home
my children and my wife.

But mostly I just thank him for
His love throughout the day,
I guard the hope He’ll use me
as the potter uses clay.

I ask Your will, not mine, my Lord
be done through me, I pray,
and offer You this humble shell
as Yours to use this day.

David B. Franzwa

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Me Mum

Me Mum

Swashbuckler’s Mommy

Swashbuckler’s Mommy

Ship in a Bottle

Ship in a Bottle “5/90″

by Dave Franzwa

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