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,
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, August 25, 2019
Sunday, July 7, 2019
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
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
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
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,
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
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 will love spring
all the more.
When it returns
outside my door.
I have a habit of wanting
what I have not,
instead of being grateful
for what I have got.
Monday, March 11, 2019
Checking out new places,
arranging and rearranging spaces,
moving closer to familiar faces,
we've made the leap to a new home!
Packing, moving, and unpacking each box,
getting new keys and testing the locks,
organizing everything from soup spoons to socks,
we've settled in, quieting the urge to roam.
* * * * *
Hello friends! Please excuse my long absence from blogging. My husband has retired, and we have moved to a new home in a small city east of Cleveland. We now live nearby to family members and are looking forward to this next chapter in our lives. We still have many boxes to unpack, but we are slowly getting things arranged and settling in. The picture above is of our new home.