Monday, September 23, 2019

Grandma's Lap


Grandma's Lap

There's no better place
to take a nap
than snuggled up
on Grandma's lap.

She finger sings the spider
up the water spout to me,
and I sit feeling sleepy,
while sitting on her knee.

She softly counts my fingers,
and then she counts my toes.
A yawn escapes from my mouth,
and my eyes begin to close.

Soon I'm drifting off to sleep
with dreams floating in my head.
I snooze and sigh with contentment, 
when Grandma's lap is my bed.

Sunday, August 25, 2019

Childhood Summer

Childhood Summer

Picking fat, green peapods
from the vines growing at the edge of the garden.
Sitting on the porch swing in the breezeway
with my mom and my cat.
Shelling peas from their pods,
scooping them into a stainless steel mixing bowl.
Listening to them ping as they fell,
"rat-a-tat-tat."

Childhood summers were so simple.
Riding our bikes together in packs,
all around the neighborhood.
Everyone was your friend--it was as easy as that.
Endless games of wiffle ball in the empty field.
Me, playing second base--never caught a one.
Charlie liked being the pitcher.
His sister, the youngest, always first up to bat.

We played hide and seek behind the lilac bushes.
Mary Aileen really knew how to run!
She'd make it home from anywhere
in fifteen seconds flat.
We kept busy with jump rope, freeze tag, and hot potato,
or tossed pebbles into the creek near the train tracks
and counted box cars from the bridge where we sat.

Those times and places are long gone now.
Many of the people are gone too.
It's no longer possible for any of us
to make it home in fifteen seconds flat,
but if I close my eyes and drift a bit,
I 'm there again jumping rope and hiding in the lilacs.
Everyone is a friend.
I just close my eyes--it's as easy as that.


Sunday, July 7, 2019

Solace of the Sea



Solace of the Sea

Sea sounds bring solace.
Whispering waves ebb and flow.
Waters mirror a scenic serenity,
while salty breezes blow.


Sandpipers play relentless tag,
alternating the chase with escape.
Gentle whitecaps rise to greet them,
carving the outline of the cape.


Seagulls swoop and dive with an echoing cry,
floating white on the cornflower sky.
Troubles forgotten, we lie on the sand
and watch cotton ball clouds drifting by.




For those wondering, no, I am not currently at the beach. These photos are from a vacation a few years ago. 


Friday, June 7, 2019

The Sleeping Baby


The Sleeping Baby

Baby's belly is full.
We have already played pattycake,
read a bedtime story,
and shared a lullaby.

She settles into my arms.
The rhythm of the rocking chair soothes us.
Sleep slowly drifts into the nursery.

Tiny fingers curl
around the edge
of a blanket.

Her breath comes, steady and soft.
Her hair sticks out - wisps of flyaway fluff at her nape.

Snuggled in dainty, white footed pajamas -
speckled with pink stars and yellow moons,
she breathes out a sigh of comfort and peace,
and with gratitude, so do I.

Tuesday, May 14, 2019

Just Deer Being Deer



Just Deer Being Deer

Their homes, their fields, and their forests
were dug up and taken over.
Now housing developments and condos sit
where once maple trees shaded clover.

They are forced to share our shrinking land.
Caught between living spaces--
farmers' fields and a few metroparks,
and overwhelmingly "civilized" places.

So they roam in our yards
and graze our garden plots,
because there is no room left for them
in their dwindling wildlife spots.

Their natural enemies are mostly gone.
They have learned to lose their fear
of the people whose yards in which they wander.
No one to blame. Just deer being deer.

Some people don't want to see the deer.
All they know is the damage they've done.
They grumble under their breath
about getting guns and making venison.

I like the deer, though, such graceful creatures,
with big, soulful, brown eyes.
They have long legs, and expressive faces,
and wear a camouflage disguise.

There must be some solution
where wildlife and man both win.
Maybe someday we can fix this mess
we've put them (and ourselves) in. 





Monday, April 15, 2019

Magnolia Miracles


Magnolia Miracles

Like hands clasped in prayer,
magnolia buds appeared,
promising the hope of renewal.
Then the sun broke through 
and the clouds cleared.
Prayers were answered
as the petals opened wide,
offering exuberance, 
and second chances...
to breathe, seek joy, 
and be glorified.










This magnolia tree is in my new next door neighbor's front yard! In the photo below, you can see the front of my house next door with the yellow forsythia bushes forming a hedge along the side of it.




Sunday, March 31, 2019

April Fool's Day Hoax


April Fool's Day Hoax

Snow has returned
in an early April Fool's Day hoax.
"Don't we deserve a reprieve?"
We ask the TV weatherman. 
We plead. We coax.

But the grass and trees 
that were turning green
have become instead
a cold, soft, white scene.

Spring is shy 
against winter's hold.
This frozen air 
is getting old! 

I know the snow 
will melt before long,
but until then, 
all this white is wrong!

Let's hope this is 
winter's last wheezing gasp.
Pray the sun breaks through 
winter's clinging grasp.

I suppose 
I will love spring 
all the more.
When it returns 
outside my door.

Like others, 
I have a habit of wanting 
what I have not,
instead of being grateful 
for what I have got.