Sarah Cole

Some days, as a podcastress, you find that it’s about a billion and two degrees of sour sunshined degrees outside, measured by the scales of Daniel or Anders either/or, and while the last thing you feel like doing might involve heavy lifting dressed in black, the next to last thing, on days such as those, might involve trying to get discernible sound and meaning to emerge from your throat.

And on days like these, you, as a podcastress, would be grateful for offers from your listeners, to muscle it out for you. And you’d sit back, and listen, and think, “well, this is nice, to sit back and listen, isn’t it?”

7 thoughts on “Sarah Cole”

  1. Dear Miette,
    I like you reading, and I like this guy reading too. Thank you for doing this. It makes my early morning drive and the early evening return something to look forward to.

    I hope it is rewarding enough to keep it going, relatively unchanged, for a while to come. All good things come to an end, but it is always nice to actually be experiencing a good thing and realize that in real-time rather than simply reminis about it.*****a small gift for you to format :-)****

    When the wind changed and blew.

    I used to be told when I was young,
    When pulling vile faces, or poking my tongue,
    Or spitting or just being cheeky at school,
    That I should cease it at once and stop acting the fool.

    The adult would state, in as serious way,
    That-if-the wind were to change while engaged in such play,
    I’d be stuck there in front of the whole human race,
    With that tongue sticking out or that scowl on my face.

    It always raised laughs, but the curse did the trick,
    It stopped any taunting or giving of lip,
    The peace was restored, no more insults gave vent,
    The ugliness swallowed by normal events.

    I reflect now I’m old, on events in my life:
    On the way I turned out; on what caused me strife.
    And again and again that old curse comes to haunt,
    Because-I feel like I’m frozen in some ugly taunt.

    I feel I am damaged, or twisted or bent,
    As if stuck there like that with no way to repent.
    I would have desisted and made good of my sins,
    But the chill wind turned quick without warning it seems.

    I guess I just thought that there’d always be time,
    I thought that the woman who pledged to be mine
    Would be there for me when all the tough times had ended,
    And-I’d be the good husband I’d always intended.

    I had time to play; to think only of me.
    Well, I thought that I did, just how wrong we can be.
    Because-the wind changed when Sally was taken away.
    Which left no more time, just a high price to pay.

    I thought, given time, that I’d honour my wife,
    I know that she wanted to share my whole life,
    I knew that I loved her, no doubting of it,
    But thought I just give her the last little bit.

    I’d never had such a completely true friend,
    I always thought I’d be with Sal till the end.
    But-that end came too soon; came before I’d reformed.
    The-chill wind as she died froze me sad and deformed.

    I am left with my guilt and regret and my shame,
    I am left wishing that I deserved my good name,
    I know she forgave me, I know that she knew,
    But I wish I’d been beautiful when that wind changed and blew.

    ****I am unashamed in my enjoyment of rhyme ! ****

  2. Whoever read this has to be the sexiest man I have ever heard; no kidding. That means hotter than Hank Williams, more suave than Potier, and funnier than Don Rickles. Really. Miette, you should ask this guy to read another story for your site. He seems so cool.

    Go Obama.

  3. I second the gentleman who refers to the reader of “Sarah Cole” as the sexiest man alive.

    All I can say is, word.

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