The Earnestness of Elusive’s Choice

     Elusive scratched the head of his centuries old companion, Silver. The time had come when it was going to be either him or Silver to give their life since there was a shortage of blood on the planet. Kneeling, he looked into eyes of pure loyalty. For the first warm-hearted moment in his trek on earth, a stream began to flow from the corner of his one good eye.
     Elusive, arose turning away from Silver, spread his black wings and flew off into the setting sun. "I will find another way, so help me."  Silver's eyes followed his master until he was out of sight.

---©ginger meeder®

Fruit Loops, Chocolate Cake & Friendship

"True friends will not sugar coat your

frosted flakes to spare you

from crying into your milk,

they'll point out the fruit loops of life,

thereby becoming your lucky charm,

and when all else fails the breakfast of champions

they'll bring out the chocolate cake celebrating

and savoring every morsel with you in silence,

in honor of the friendship and quiet resolve, just because."

---©ginger meeder®

Noble Resilience

Noble Resilience

She bravely showed her son's mutilated face,
but they could not steal nor bring down her race.
She was a woman of strength, power and spirit
of which they could not take.
Mamie Till-Mobley, would not allow
for her son’s soul and life, Emmett Till, to be erased.
She was a woman of courage,
who possessed an amazing and beyond the call of norm,
veracity piercing, earth-shattering, refined grace.
I beg of you please, to never ever forget their names.
Whisper them every time you need a reminder
of what happens when others crush down
with a hand of superiority,
and an air of holier then thou
over another race.

©g.a. meeder, 2010®

Revelations of the bread & buttered kind

Revelations of the bread & buttered kind


Neatly aside of their plates,
silverware is purposefully positioned,
along with salt & pepper shakers,
which they in turn tip over and sprinkle,


upon their mound of cottage cheese,
burying it under black polka-dots.
Bread is either buttered or jam is spread,
and arranged gingerly on the damned tablecloth,


much to my anal retentive dismay,
off to the right or left of their plates.
Some will bow their heads in gratitude,
with others digging in, fork in hand.


Their cheeks balled out,
chomping as if a small basketball,
is squeezed inside them.
They chew in sync with mental clocks,

that tick away their lives,
in a daily ritual peppered with stress.
It comes to my mind that this place,
with all it’s idiosyncrasies,


has become their home away from home.
In this startling moment of discovery,
I find myself literally weak in the knees,
whereby vulnerability settles in


and I find my professional guard is down
and my heart and soul stumbles for the moment
in an overflowing wave of emotions.
They pick up their newspapers or books


and begin to read to themselves.
For in this moment in time my mind
has photographed,
their expressions, their faces, their personalities,


of which I choose to never forget
freeze-framed, locked solid in matte finish
for later retrieval in my mind’s
 own personal photo album.


So that when I need to flip through the pages
I will remember this thought that,
my restaurant was never just about the food.
it was for the love of the people.


Simply the people we have come to now know and love,
without one single, solitary regret.---©ginger meeder®