Saturday, February 9, 2019

Meeting Amelia

Meeting Amelia

It is such a thrill to meet you,
to see the wonder in your bright eyes,
like your Daddy's--soft cornflower blue.

Tiny wisps of red hair escape the hospital hat,
striped in white and blue and pink.
I have a granddaughter...imagine that!

This is a sacred moment for me, to hold you now.
You, cooing and content, wrapped in a blanket like a burrito.
Me, overwhelmed with delight, sighing a whispered, "Wow." 

Thursday, January 10, 2019

Hide and Seek

Hide and Seek

All those years ago, with my nose pressed
against the rough bark of our backyard maple tree,
I cupped my hands over closed eyes,
showing I couldn't see.

I counted out loud, "...48, 49, 50.
Here I come, ready, or not!"
Opening my eyes, turning from the tree,
I saw no one, but I took off running,
searching each hiding spot.

All these years later,
I have no hiding space.
Knowing I can't see,
I search for comfort, peace, and grace.

Out of control, like a beating drum,
time keeps counting down.
All I can do is get up each day,
take off running, and say,
"Ready or not, here I come!"

Thursday, December 6, 2018

A Passing Storm

A Passing Storm

Clouds: big, dark, and heavy lumbered across the sky---
a herd of grey elephants, weary from a long trek, 
trumpeting thunder.
Two angry bulls stirred up a skirmish while charging.
Their white tusks clashed and cracked---
lightning flashes broke the sky.
The elephants swirled around each other, 
with ears flapping and trunks and tails swinging in the wind.
Chaos ruled the herd as the elephants scattered in the confusion.
Some stumbled into the river, splashing and thrashing,
sending soaking rains down to the earth below.
The herd stampeded away spraying water everywhere
until at last the rain stopped, and there was nothing left... 
but the rumble of their feet in the distance.

*   *   *   *   *

Can you see the herd of elephants in the bottom part of the clouds in the picture above?

This poem was inspired by a post on Linda's blog. Thanks, Linda!

Monday, November 5, 2018

That Pivotal Moment

That Pivotal Moment

Red bushes are burning.
Sugar maples are ablaze.
Cool air invigorates.
Ahh, rejuvenation!
Welcome back, 
autumn days.

Spirits are revived.
Each step falls lighter.
An end and a beginning
merge into one,
and that pivotal moment
couldn't be brighter.

Wednesday, September 26, 2018

The Garden Guardian

The Garden Guardian

The sunflower sentry stood guard.
His demeanor: solemn, alert.
It was his job to keep out intruders,
standing watch, so that no one got hurt.

He allowed no twinkle in his eye;
not a smile, not a grin, not a smirk.
Sounds easy, but it wasn't.
Being serious was hard work.

He stood tall and proud,
facing down the sun.
Firmly rooted, he held his ground.
He would never run.

A winged intruder breached the perimeter.
The guardian never suspected an invasion from the sky!
All he could do was stand there and take it.
The invader went straight for his weak spot--his eye!

The sunflower sentry stiffened,
trying to keep a straight face.
While across his features,
the butterfly danced, tickled, and traced.

The sunflower squirmed under the tickling torture,
until at last he could take no more!
He doubled over with roaring laughter.
He laughed harder than he had ever laughed before.

His laugh was so loud it startled the butterfly,
who flew quickly away,
but she circled around and returned,
ready again to play.

Sunflower and butterfly became fast friends
and whiled the summer away.
Sunflower decided laughing was good.
He's beaming still to this day.

Thursday, August 16, 2018

My Little Girl Life

My Little Girl Life

My little girl life happened way back when,
when I was eight or nine, or maybe ten.

I can remember...

Dipping cinnamon graham crackers into milk after school.
Riding bikes with my brother and sister - bragging, 
"Look no hands!" (Weren't we cool?)

Being in awe of the stars, sequins in the velvet-sky night.
Waking up in the morning to birds singing, welcoming first light.

Sleeping on sheets: clothesline-dried, smelling of sun and air.
Drifting into dreams: tired, happy, no troubles to bear.

Listening to Dad's stories, told with a grin.
He'd get tickled at his own tales before he'd even begin.

Picking ripe, red strawberries straight from the patch.
Eating Mom's cookies - warm from the oven, love in each batch.

Husking corn, snapping beans, and shelling peas.
Running barefoot in the yard, steering clear of bees.

Making homemade churned ice cream, waiting for it to freeze.
A kiss from Mom, the miracle that healed our skinned knees.

Making gum wrapper bracelets and blowing dandelion wishes.
Sharing chores: setting the table, feeding the dog, and washing dishes.

Playing with the neighbors, games like hide-and-go-seek.
"Maple tree is home. Close your eyes. Count to 25, and don't peek!"

Lining up, hand to hand, calling, "Red rover, red rover."
Making nosegay bouquets from Queen Anne's Lace and clover.

My little girl life happened way back when,
when I was eight or nine, or maybe ten.

Imagine what it would be like to live that life again.

Friday, July 13, 2018

Sort It Out

Sort It Out

Why do we let our possessions
take over and become our obsessions?

Things we acquire,
that we think are a must,
end up on a shelf
collecting dust.

All sorts of gizmos and gadgets,
we save up our money to buy.
Later, we realize we don't need them,
although they once caught our eye.

Closets and attic are overflowing.
Good grief, what a mess!
All this clutter. Too much stuff!
The chaos causes stress.

Getting it all sorted and tidy
is on my bucket list.
I must figure out what I really need,
and get rid of what will never be missed.

It's time to prioritize what we've got.
Decide which things still bring joy,
and dispose of those which do not.

Who knew letting go
could be such a chore.
Repeat after me,
"Less is more. Less is more."