Tuesday, January 13, 2015

The Compulsive Cook

I made lasagna for my sons when they were home over the holidays which inspired me to write this silly children's poem below.  Don't try to read it too fast, or it will turn into a tongue twister for you.

The Compulsive Cook

Every kind of food she made
was piled in layers, one by one.
Each main dish, sandwich, side, and dessert
showed its stripes when it was done.

Homemade lasagna was layered:
meat, sauce, noodles, and cheese.
Her seven-layer salad held
lettuce, cheese, onions, celery,
bacon, mayo, and peas!

Cakes were layered, pancakes stacked,
tortes were tall chocolate towers.
Trifles, jello, cookies, and dips!
Sometimes she layered for hours!

No one knew what caused it--
this urge to stratify things nutritious,
but no one ever, ever complained,
because all the food she made 
tasted SOOO delicious!

Wednesday, December 31, 2014

Calendar News

Hello everyone. I've been lax in posting on this blog, but I am still around. I've been spending the holidays with my two sons and husband (in picture above) and with my extended families.

I do have news. Some of you may remember that one of my poems appeared on the September page in the Writer's Rising Up Digging to the Roots Calendar in 2014. The new calendar for 2015 is now available for free download for those who are interested, and two of my poems are in it. If you click here, then look for the months of June and November, you can read my poems that are included in the new calendar.

Speaking of calendars, I wish all my readers a Happy New Year! I hope 2015 is full of love, laughter, happiness, and blessings for all of you.

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Dressed For It

Dressed For It

Before I go out, on the gear goes,
layers and layers and layers of clothes,
trying to keep warm from my toes to my nose.

First come the long johns, thermal and clean,
(an important layer, although it’s unseen).
Thick wool socks are pulled up to my knees.
So much to wear to make sure I don’t freeze.

Warm heavy jeans and a homemade sweater,
a bulky knit scarf and boots made of leather,
a coat filled with down, light as a feather,
hat and gloves on last--look out winter weather!
January comes, and it hits ten below.
I get sick of shoveling that cold, wet snow.
“Moving south is looking better,” I say,
but spring brings forgiveness…
and amnesia,
and …sigh…here I stay.

Thursday, November 27, 2014

Gratitude List

Gratitude List

So where do I start?
There is no end to the list.
Once begun, there's no stopping,
for fear something important will be missed.

Loved ones:
family and friends most dear;
good health; a clear mind;
Redeeming Grace;
(so blessed, so blessed,
to have faith without fear).

A home for shelter; food for strength;
clothes keep us warm and dry;
caring hearts allow us to love one another:
to give, to share, to feel, and to cry.

Overwhelmed with blessings,
too many to number.
Life filled with joy, music, art,
beauty, color, hugs, and wonder.

This is my gratitude list.
Each day it grows longer.
I am humbled, so honored,
so thankful. 
The magnitude of it all
gives me pause,
makes me ponder.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. I am grateful for you, my readers and friends.

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

True Colors

True Colors

Outside, it's cold, and the wind spins the snow.
Inside, a poinsettia sits, perky and defiant,
proud, by the window.

The plant, thriving from a Christmas past, is green, 
a LOUD, boisterous green,
On the leaves, not a speck of red can be seen.

I tried to make the plant turn red for the season.
With a mind of its own, the plant remained green, 
ignoring tradition, ignoring reason.

I know some people who are like that too.
They fly their own colors: create their own hue.
It makes no difference what others think they should do.

Variety is good, though. Don't you think? 
Leave the poinsettias and the people alone.
Let them be green or purple or pink.

It takes all colors to make the rainbow.
Different perspectives change the spectrum.
The more you see, the more you know!

Friday, November 7, 2014

Raindrops Play a Lullaby

Raindrops Play a Lullaby

Raindrops play a lullaby 
against the window pane
in a soft chorus of voices.
In spite of this sweet serenade,
sleep has been elusive,
as thoughts ricochet in my brain,
mulling over decisions and choices.

I open my eyes and stare at the shadows.
Then, from under my blanket I rise.
I drift to the windows to peer into the dark.
Autumn trees have lost their leaves. 
They look barren, lonely, and stark.

Street lights emit a golden glow,
like hazy stars in the rain.
The silvery pavement below 
is shimmering, glistening.
Cars slip by, their tires swishing,
while I stand watching and listening,
listening, listening to the rain.

Small glints of light 
reflect from the chrome 
on cars parked along the street,
flashes of light like sparks 
dancing with frozen feet.

I look to the windows
of other houses and wonder 
what secrets they might keep.
My worries suddenly seem small.
I climb back in my cozy bed, 
hoping to return to sleep.

Raindrops hit the window pane
singing a lullaby,
repeating the words in sweet refrain,
"Dreams are worth a try."
I drift and doze and close my eyes,
and soon I'm fast asleep.
The rain was right
with wisdom deep.
Dreams are worth a try.

Tuesday, November 4, 2014

Super Heroes

Super Heroes

Those fellows of mine convinced me to go
to see a movie about the latest super hero.
There was a lot of noise, flash, and thunder
and unbelievable feats of strength and wonder.

By crashing and bashing and throwing things around,
the hero pinned the evil-doers down to the ground,
saving all of us from the proverbial bad guys.
(It's amazing what you can do when you're wearing a disguise!)

But I see bigger heroes in the people all around me:
Mothers comforting little ones while bandaging a knee;
Volunteers helping strangers after a devastating tragedy;
Peacemakers changing animosity to solidarity.

My super heroes are the ones who are kind
to those who have been bullied, ignored, and left behind.
They value gratitude, sharing, and generosity.
I admire their attitude, caring, and philosophy.

My super heroes still believe in love's power.
They recognize the healing grace 
that comes from planting a flower.
They believe in the higher good. 
Of course they do. We all should.
They give us someone to look up to
 every second, every minute, every hour.