Eye Stretching

Rich men strive so industrious

to dig up treasures from the ground,

then build mansions illustrious

on the nicest land they’ve found.


Timid animals choose holes to rest;

lions, elephants simply roam.

Birds like men need to nest,

yet times fly far from home.


Her I am between extremes,

as once a rapist of the soil,

while lover of fields and streams,

while I, like you, still roll and roil.


Some animals climb up a tree.

As a rule, little boys do too.

None perhaps more so than me;

you see, I need a higher view.


Little boys need to run and climb

till they can climb and run no more.

But I go faster in age and time

in my macho four-by-four.


I drive to deserts, cities walls to flee,

to simply note nothing much at all.

I scan the horizon just to see

organ pipes blaring up so tall.


Along the coast, naught else but sand,

or perhaps I spy a rocky shoal

where the sea battles against the land,

but to see, I see the needed goal.


Long winter blues will give me SAD

when too old to sled the slope and play.

I need not a lamp to make me glad

but a warm spring sunny day.


Exercise makes me ache in my old age,

but my eyes have not failed this wretch.

I drive up high to a mountain ledge

so muscles in my eyes can stretch!


-Robert Michael Middleton

Fortunately I have at last retired from technical writing in windowless offices at three universities. I now write novels, poems, songs, and plays. Is it coincidence that I always include panoramas of God’s beauty in my writings? Seemingly unrelated, I am claustrophobic; from time to time, I must “stretch my eyes.” But until I wrote this poem for Tiny Seed, I had not realized how much my need for stretching my eyes across vast expanses of bright, unspoiled terrain has affected my writing style to always portray a sunny outlook, as demonstrated in my website. Thanks, Tiny Seed! rmmiddleton.com