Tis the Season...

It's quiet now

The day is done.

The night, left cold

By the setting sun.

Long lost faces

Once held so dear

Under cover of darkness,

Slowly reappear.

Gathering around me

One by one...

Encircling my soul

As the day is done.

No need to fear,

Or scream or cry,

No need to question,

Or wonder why.

Tis the season,

Happens once each year,

The visits begin

From memories, dear.

Those I love,

Who have gone on,

Come abide with me

Til tomorrow's dawn.

Swirling around,

In my head and heart,

Sharing stories,

Til they must part.

Every year, they come,

Every year, they stay,

And, once I remember,

They go away.

They know I'm fine,

And I'll be all right,

Alone, again....

Another quiet night.

Memories....A Poem...

Life seems to be such a quandary....

Living somewhere besides where I want to be.

Spending my time in memories of the past

Why is it only the memories that last?

Life is happening all around

But, in the past, is where I'm found.

Life is so precious Life is so dear

Why can't I live right now, right here?

Why do I feel so all alone?

Togetherness is what my memories have shown.

People I love People so near

Being together brings love and good cheer.

So I'll hold close, my memories, and then

Go forward, to my future and leave where I've been.

My memories, so precious, with all the strength they give,

Here and now is where I am; and here and now, is where I'll live.

Rich, layered memories of seasons past...

Live beside moments that are passing too fast.

With memories of the past and those folks I hold dear,

I'll live in the moment and be of good cheer.

For tomorrow will come before we know...

Today's memories will linger like new-fallen snow.

So pretty, so ethereal, so white and so cold.

Now passes too fast and soon, I'll be old.

Gathering my memories, and these fresh moments, too

I am moving forward....heading, always, toward you.

Memories from the past, precious moments in time

Past, present and future, in our love, entwined.

The Christmas Tree, a Poem...

Covered in tinsel and icicles, too
Baubles in gold and silver and white
Spirals and stars and pear shapes,
Crowned with a star and twinkling lights.

Tall and straight and evergreen,
Reaching for heaven, or at least the sky,
Bows bending, under the weight
And presents beneath, piled high.

No matter the type, or shape of the tree
Even the lowly, Charlie Brown kind,
Covered in baubles and lovely things
Becomes the best that you will find.

Presents, not fancy, but lovingly done,
Under the tree in bright colored paper,
Heighten the excitement, increase the tension,
Each contains a moment to savor.

Gathered around the family tree,
Remembering so many Christmases past,
Thinking that this one is even more special,
Hoping the memories made will last.

The Christmas Tree, so beautiful,
Decorated now for all to see...
May yours bring you holiday cheer,
And may you always, blessed be.

Baking Cookies....

Today, I cleaned up my old kitchen

In preparation for some baking

For here is where it all happens,

Those memories in the making.

Windows fogged up from the heated oven,

Crowned in curtains, made long ago by me.

Ingredients lovingly strewn on the counter,

Soon become cookies, as you will see.

Sights and smells and sounds galore

All bring back memories of Christmases past,

Baking cookies, by foggy windows,

Candles burning and memories that last.

The laughter of her little children

Lives in a mother’s heart forever,

And baking cookies for those children’s children

Seems like such a noble endeavor.

Watching little faces light up as they smile

And spy the cookies that Grandma has made.

And smell the smells, and see the treats,

That’s the stuff of memories that don’t fade.

So, come into this grandma’s kitchen,

Sit down, please, and stay awhile

Have a cookie, and a glass of milk.

And we’ll talk……. and we’ll smile.

Grandma's Table...

Gathered around Grandma's table,

Three generations of our family.

Sharing that special meal saved

For this one annual holiday.

Gentleness borne of loving thoughts

Easy conversation shared

Stories told, laughter follows,

It seems that they are always paired.

The bounty of the harvest

Spread out upon the table,

Hopes of togetherness abound

Calling us to come if we are able.

Sharing the food we always have,

The ritual we always keep,

Sitting there afterward and talking

And wanting to lie down and sleep.

The boys go out and throw the ball,

It's a beautiful autumn day,

While Grandma washes dishes,

And puts the food away.

As the sunlight leaves us

And the evening draws nigh...

Grandma surveys the scene,

And sighs a gentle sigh....

Another holiday meal is over

A feast shared with those held dear

Gracing, again, Grandma's table...

And looking forward to next year.

Peace at last, settles in...

Grandma's table is empty now,

Only the memories of the day remain..

And the love, at this table, shared..

Life Goes On...

Comforting words,

Spoken with glee..

A spectacular sunset,

For all to see.

Laughter from the

The next room,

Chases away

Any sense of gloom.

Lives touched

No longer forlorn

Mended hearts

New joy is borne.

Gently blowing

Breezes calm..

The sun provides

A soothing balm.

Life goes on

Day by day,

Love conquers all

And is here to stay.

Your Turn to Bloom..

Open up, Bright Flower

Don't start to fade...

It's your turn to bloom

Your dues are paid.

The good times are coming

The bad times are past

It's your turn to bloom,

And be happy, at last.

Though wrongs are not righted,

And justice is not done,

It's your turn to bloom,

And have some fun.

The chores are finished,

The children are grown,

It's your turn to bloom,

Your way will be shown.

Life has moved on

You've rounded the bend,

It's your turn to bloom,

And bloom till the end.

Sweet sunset is coming,

Then the darkness before dawn,

It's your turn to bloom,

Before it's all gone.

Tap, Tap, Tap

Nimble fingers tapping the keys...

Words appear as if by magic...

On the screen in front of me...

Words that say what I am thinking.

How strange it seems, tap, tap, tap..

To spend my life forming letters..

That in turn form the words that express..

What my heart is feeling and my mind can think.

Toiling over the keys for hours, tap, tap, tap...

The sound is soothing and so rhythmic, too..

Tapping out the beat of my heart...

Relieving my mind of its burden of thought.

How can it be that I have so much to say?

Do I not have a chance to speak all day long?

Or is it just the words of my heart,

Overflowing and needing to feel the freedom of air.

Knowing that the thoughts I express

Are shared with someone of like mind...

Someone who knows my thoughts before I do...

And sees the visions that swirl in my head.

Have I been hypnotized by the tap, tap, tap?

Are the words expressed somehow possessed?

Or is it just my heart shared with my fingers...

The thoughts that only I know, and you have guessed.

Tap, tap, tap, more thoughts come to be written,

More words express more thoughts, I think....

Writing, writing for hours on end...

Bringing me ever closer to Love's brink...

Tapping, tapping so tentatively...

Hoping that you will feel the same..

My fingers stop, but there's still tapping...

Your heart is whispering my name..

Tap, tap, tap, again it starts..

The words flow freely, now more than ever.

Is it Love that makes my fingers fly?

A never endng Love that is Always and Forever?

Harvest Moon

I looked eastward, into the darkening dusk

And saw above me, in the big, dark sky..

A perfect sphere, adorned with a face

White and glowing as it rose so high.

The contrast between the dark blue sky

And the milky white of the harvest moon,

Caught me unaware, on this crisp, fall night..

Not expecting the darkness to fall so soon.

And there, so suddenly, hovering over us,

The eucalyptus trees all standing in a row..

Standing there, in awe, with me...

As the moon put on its evening show.

Rising slowly in a cloudless sky,

Meant for lovers to sit and share...

And watch, in awe as its majesty..

Blankets the earth with its gentle glare...

The harvest moon, in a crisp fall sky..

Leaves have fallen and winter's on its way,

Seasons changing once again...

And life is more barren with each new day.

Summer's gone, with its riot of colors..

Verdant green pastures give way to fall..

And soon winter's cold wind will blow,

Dead leaves buried, snow covers it all..

And above us all, on this special night..

Presiding majestically over the time of rest,

Hangs the beautiful harvest moon,

Making this time of year the best..

Sweet Child O'Mine..

Precious Little Child, Sweet Child O'Mine..

Your eyes twinkle like the stars that shine..

The inner beauty that shows in your face,

Is borne of the joy that is your grace...

Alive and living and learning so many things..

The sound of your voice gives my heart wings.

I was there for your birth, Sweet Child O'Mine,

I was there for your birth, an event so divine.

How fast you've grown, and gotten so tall,

It's hard to remember when you were just small.

You learn so quickly, and you love so well,

Beauty so bewitching, you cast a spell...

Living so sweetly, and now out of my dreams,

And into real life, so very busy, it seems.

How can I touch you, what words will you hear?

What secret password will gain me entrance to your sphere?

How lovely the light, that glows in your soul,

And when we are together, the days, so full..

Guided by love and light and life and reasons...

We relish each day, and all of the seasons.

How I cherish the memories of your sweet baby days,

Even as I watch you growing, in my loving gaze...

Taller and prettier and kind and loving as can be,

You'll always be my Baby Noelle-y to me!

Night Sky...

Tiny little stars...

In the dark night sky

Looking down on me,

And I wonder why.

Things seem to happen

Just the way they do..

You found me,

And I found you.

Slowly friendship grows

And walls break down.

Smiles come over me

And replace my frown.

Things that used to scare me

Are no big deal...

Places that were a fantasy

Now seem quite real.

Life has a way of turning

Down ne'er-traveled roads,

Familiar places give way,

To new and comforting abodes.

Hearts long ago grown weary,

And afraid to love,

Look up in the night sky

And see the stars above.

Gimme Some Happy!!

Why? Oh Why? Does it have to be?

What can I do about my attitude?

Looking for something simple…

I lose another hour on YouTube!

Mostly looking for songs,

And things that make me happy,

Sometimes I find what I’m looking for,

Something sweet and soft and sappy.

Other times I’m rockin’ out

With the Beach Boys or Bon Jovi…

Never at a loss for the words to songs,

There’s always something to show me.

I look at one video, and then another…

And time slips through my hands..

Oh look! Here’s one of my favorites,

With singers from many lands.

Never at a loss for something to watch,

Always searching for just one more,

Why can’t I just turn YouTube off?

You know I need to go to the store!

How could I have gotten through today without seeing this??

Seasons...

Crimson skies at twilight

Herald the change of seasons,

Days grow shorter, cooler, and brighter

For so many, many reasons.

Life has changed its cycle,

From hot and humid and all

Things are slowing down, dying

And life approaches Fall.

The growing season is over,

We have harvested all the crops,

But life is moving still, just slower

It’s not till winter that it stops.

The leaves are turning their colors

To brilliant oranges, golds and reds,

And soon, the seasons will change again

And we can rest our weary heads.

Winter will be upon us,

Making us want to hibernate,

Bringing the chilling winds and snow,

And holidays we love to celebrate.

And in the quiet hours,

When all has been said and done,

Slowly, surely, life will stir..

And a new cycle will have begun.

A House Full of Boys..

Today I’m celebrating

One of life’s special joys:

Saturday afternoon…

And a house full of boys!

College football on TV

Little one throwing the ball

“World of Warcraft” too…

I’m enjoying it all!

Kettle corn on the floor

And ground in the rug

A boy walks by me

And gives Grandma a hug.

Fingerprints on the table,

Red and sticky, mark the spot,

Where the little one sat,

His quesadilla was too hot.

Pillows from the sofa,

Scattered around on the floor,

Long-legged boys watching football

Come in slamming the door.

Two go outside

To throw the ball

Two still inside,

And I’m watching it all.

The house, so empty

On so many days,

Seems suited to boys

In so many ways.

Plenty of space

To spread out and play

Plenty of things

To move out of the way.

Good boys they all are

Even though strong-willed,

Keep them busy and happy

Give ‘em Legos to build.

And when it’s all over

And they must go…

I hope they remember

Grandma loves them so!

Constant Sorrow...

Forgive me, I’m not

A woman of constant sorrow.

I count my blessings

Each new tomorrow.

It’s not that I haven’t

Felt tremendous pain,

It’s just that thinking of it

Gives me nothing to gain.

I know our world

Is full of great trouble

And I’m not ignoring it

Or living in a bubble.

I have my thoughts

And I have my fears

I’ve cried my fair share

Of heart-wrenching tears.

But I always get up

And seek out the sun

The rainclouds have left,

And a new day’s begun.

There is no joy

In remembering my woes,

Or sharing my suffering

Or counting my foes.

There is joy is to be had

In each new dawning day

And Faith, Hope and Trust

Guide me on my way.

Pets...

Furry bodies,

Precious faces.

I always found them

In the strangest places.

Shivering in fright,

With looks so pleading..

A warm place to live

Was all they were needing.

No money to pay,

For their room and board,

Unconditional love

Is its own reward.

Funny and curious,

Adventurous and bright,

Why do they always

Want to play at night?

Always content to be

Curled up in my lap,

Safe and sound

And taking a nap.

“Who wants a cookie?

Wag your tail if you do.”

To others, I’m a nurse,

But I’m “mom” to you!

Heroes

The alarm was sounded. Without hesitation, they went into action

Habits, ingrained through real life trauma and practice drills, took over

Thoughts were of the needs of others, always

Code 3 to the scene: lights and sirens onward to meet the tragedy

Horrified by the sights that greeted them, but not missing a step

Pulling turnouts up, grabbing equipment, heading without hesitation

To greet the grim scene, head on, fearlessly

Passing fleeing civilians: coughing, dazed, bleeding, crying

Up the down staircase, rushing past those who were seeking safety

Into the darkness and uncertainty, pushing forward, searching

Calling out to victims, survivors, the frightened, cowering humanity

Awakened forever from any sense of complacency

Black smoke, burning jet fuel, screams, crashing walls and cinders

Nothing stopped their upward trek, seeking those who needed their help

Reaching, touching horrified humanity, screaming in fright and pain

“I’m here, I’ll help you!” A joyous sound in the midst of a nightmare

Flashlights illuminating unbelievable destruction and painful death

Heroes, searching desperately for survivors in the midst of the rubble.

Thunderous sounds of crashing architecture, dropping like thrown powder

On top of itself, dropping, dropping, dropping until it reached

Ground Zero.

Happy Birthday....

Happy Birthday....

September is here again, with the bittersweet memories attached. My mother was born in September, and died in September, two weeks after her 65th birthday....

She was a one-of-a-kind, my mother. I have never met anyone quite like her. She was intelligent, beautiful, and creative, and yet, lost and sad at the same time. She loved photograpy and took most of the pictures of me that are on my profile page.

She came from a tragic family, and that tragedy shaped her choices for the rest of her life. She wanted to be surrounded by beauty,and so she planted roses and other flowers. She shunned the darkness and tried to live in the sunlight. She loved musicals, she loved to read, and she loved to travel.

I think about her often and I talk to her, too. I wear her engagement ring on a chain around my neck. It is amazing how many people have asked me about that ring, and what it means. And maybe this poem, that I wrote this morning in a fit of tears, will explain..

I wish I had the notes you once wrote,

But you’ll be around forever.

I wish I could remember how you smelled,

But you’ll be around forever.

I wish I could touch that soft dress you wore,

But you’ll be around forever.

I wish I’d said “I love you” more…

But you’ll be around forever.

I wish I had listened more closely,

When you talked about your hopes and dreams,

But you’ll be around forever.

I wish I had a recording of your voice,

With the soft, lilting way you said your words,

But you’ll be around forever.

I wish I could brush your hair again,

And place it in a cascading pile

On top of your perfectly-shaped head

But you’ll be around forever.

I wish I had said the things I wanted to say,

And told you what you needed to hear.

I wish I had gotten in your face,

And defied you, just for once

So you would know that I am strong

And that my heart cannot be swayed

And that my courage will prevail…

But I was wrong and didn’t know it then…

You could not be around forever!

Happy Birthday, Momby!

Today...

The sun is setting

Yet the twilight lingers..

Another day

Slips through my fingers.

Another day of life

On my tab, mounts

Did I choose

Something that counts?

Did I accomplish

Something brave or bold?

Is there another story

That I have told?

Is this world

A better place?

Did I put a smile

On someone’s face?

Of the countless things

I wanted to do…

Did any get done?

Did I follow through?

Did I tell those I love

What they mean to me?

Did I paint a picture

For them to see?

Did I finish things

Already started?

Did I share kind thoughts

Before friends departed?

Have I done

What’s needed today?

Have I said

What I needed to say?

And now, at last

As this day is done

I think I’ll go watch

The setting sun.

Ordinary...

Ordinary people

Leading ordinary lives.

Ordinary husbands,

Married to ordinary wives.

Ordinary children,

Go to ordinary schools.

Ordinary families,

Follow ordinary rules.

And in an ordinary world,

Filled with ordinary stores,

Ordinary living has ruined,

Our mountains, trees and shores.

Ordinary use

Of ordinary things,

Extraordinary abuse

Of all natural things.

Unless we stop the cycle,

Of ordinary living,

The bounty of the land,

Will no longer be giving.

The ordinary things,

That we ordinarily see,

Will, in extraordinary fashion,

Forever cease to be.

And so, no longer ordinary,

We must do things differently,

And take extraordinary measures,

To save all that we see.

Ordinary rivers, and ordinary hills,

Ordinary oceans and ordinary trees,

Will become extraordinarily extinct,

If we continue doing as we please.

Sorrow comes and sorrow goes....

Sorrow comes and sorrow goes…

The feeling is fleeting but the pain lingers.

How can I live a life filled with sorrow?

When did the joy slip through my fingers?

I have known pain and crushing disappointment,

I gave them their due, then sent them away.

Sometimes lingering in a pool of self-pity,

Other times, losing them in the light of day.

Life is full of those moments of sorrow…

That turn into days and weeks and years.

Seconds, and minutes and hours lost

Because I gave in to my worst fears.

I cannot predict what sorrows are waiting

To inflict pain at the worst possible time.

But then, again, what time is best?

Does pain ever have any reason or rhyme?

And can we really live in a happy world?

Devoid of pain and suffering and sorrow?

How can I appreciate the sunshine today,

Unless I know that it might rain tomorrow?

So every day, I appreciate life’s little joys

They help me assuage the moments of sorrow.

And if the clouds are raining today,

Then the sun will surely shine tomorrow.

Such a simple verse you are reading,

And really not so very clever.

But these simple thoughts expressed

Abide with me, in my heart, forever.

Gone...

Long ago, when I was just a little girl,

Daddy planted trees in our front yard.

This morning I watched, as they were cut down

And seeing it happen was very hard.

Old and tired, with hollowed out branches,

Posing a threat of falling, and causing harm,

I had to make the decision to let them go,

And now, the front yard has lost its charm.

More than trees, and even more than shade,

They were a symbol of a time that’s past…

Just sticks when they were planted in the soil,

It never occurred to me that they wouldn’t last.

And so, I’ve lost still another connection….

To a place that I can never return.

To a time in life when I was just a child,

To a sense of safety for which I yearn.

Safe and secure in the arms of my parents,

In a life that would last as long as the trees.

A part of me left with those trees this morning,

A sense of connection that no one else sees.

Those trees were a constant, growing tall,

Presiding over all of our family’s events.

Having to lose them now, after all this time,

Really and truly does not make any sense.

But gone they are, to join my parents,

And live forever in my memories…

I chide myself: “stop crying, silly woman!”

After all, it was only a couple of trees..

Sunshine...

Life is good and kind and sweet.

The sun is shining and bluebirds are singing,

Flowers bloom and share their heady perfume.

The grass is green, a velvet carpet…

Underneath my bare feet.

The warmth of the sun bakes the back of my neck,

My hair pulled up on top of my head.

Watching the butterflies in flight,

Flitting from one flower to the next.

Spreading the joy.

My heart is beating softly,

My breathing is gentle and unlabored.

The stress has lifted from my neck and shoulders

And I can’t feel any pain, anywhere.

I am truly free.

I finally know that I really matter,

That someone cares what happens to me.

I am not alone, even when no one is around

There is always Love to envelope me,

And keep me safe.

I don’t live in a glass bubble;

My life is not devoid of pain

There’s always some source of sorrow

But this afternoon, I will play

And then, I’ll deal with it tomorrow.

My Life...

A hundred thousand people,

Through my life have marched.

Some assuaged my thirst,

And some left me parched.

All have left their mark,

On my soul, in some strange way,

Some by their actions,

Others by what they say.

The ones I felt drawn to,

Those who meant the most,

Have always been the humble ones,

Not given to ever boast.

Some have told me lies,

And hurt me, or made me mad.

But all in all, the goodness,

Far outweighs the bad.

Those who share my joy

At dancing in the rain,

Are the ones who are always

Welcome to come back again.

Lemonade...

I’ve been here and I‘ve been there

In and out and everywhere

Up sometimes, and then, down too.

Sometimes red and sometimes blue.

I’ve had the urge to scream and shout,

I’ve stuck out my lip and tried to pout.

I’ve folded my arms across my chest,

And told my kids: “Mom knows best.”

I’ve lived through things that were a test,

And always paid my dues—with interest.

Took up the gauntlet, and fought the fight,

Tried to always do whatever was right.

Turned my cheek, gave life another chance,

Went out in the rain and smiled and danced.

Whistled a happy tune when I was scared,

Offered thanks for all the blessings I shared.

Tried to just put one foot in front of the other,

And set a good example, since I was the mother.

Smiled at the good, cried through all the sorrows,

And always hoped for much better tomorrows.

And somehow, in going from here to there,

In and out and everywhere..

I’ve been lucky: on a steady course I’ve stayed,

When life hands me lemons, I make lemonade.

The Meaning of Life........(mine anyway)

I have been a member of the social network site, "Eons", for over a year now. I have made a lot of friends, joined a few groups, written over two hundred blogs and, most importantly, I have learned a lot. My online friends and acquaintances have generously shared their wisdom with me, either on purpose, or accidentally.

In that time, I have learned of the dangers inherent in “female upset”, the pleasures of jelly beans, the joy of hearing the sounds of nature, the pain of trying to find love again, and the most important lesson in my life, so far. In "talking" to a friend, quite accidentally, she shared the Meaning of Life with me. Well, at least the Meaning of My Life:

All a real woman needs is the right Tool…..

I had my first Tool several years ago. It was a necessity: I had a screw loose and needed to fix it. I needed a Tool. I went online to one of “those sites” and did my research. Found out what size would be best for me, how much power I needed, and whether or not it needed batteries.

With this important information grasped firmly in my trembling hand, I drove to “that store”. As I looked around, somewhat embarrassed to even be there, a salesman walked up and asked: “may I help you?” I turned beet red!!

Now, I happen to know a good salesman: he knows how to make his customers feel important and how to determine what they are looking for, and how to get the right part for the right job. He makes the world a better place, one part at a time!

This salesman was NOT that salesman! This one just looked at me blankly and said: “that Tool is too big for you, you need this little one.” But I didn’t want the little tool, I wanted the Big Tool. As he was talking, and rolling his eyes, I glanced next to him and saw exactly what I wanted on the shelf. “Thank you!” I said as he walked off in a huff.

Tool in hand, I headed victoriously to the check-out. I was so excited that I couldn’t drive fast enough to get home and fix that loose screw! Naturally, I had to wait for the batteries to charge but, it was worth it! When my wait was over, I used my Tool to fix my loose screw!

I have purchased several Tools since then. Now that I know how to use them, I just can’t get enough! Sometimes I make up excuses to use them. And, when I do use them, it is never disappointing! I am, however, longing for another Tool. It is the one I cannot live without yet, here I am, living without it.

I first saw the Tool awhile back. I was helping Frazier put up crown molding in my living room. I don’t know what Frazier’s first name is, I just call him Frazier. He has a problem with his eyes: one is looking up and out while the other is looking sort of straight ahead. I never know when we are looking “eye-to-eye.”

We were both standing on ladders; he was nailing the crown molding into the wall, and I was about 8 feet away, holding the other end. He looked at me; I’m not sure but, I think we were looking eye-to-eye. He saw the desire in my eyes; he grinned. “Would you like to use my Tool?” “Yes!” I fairly shouted back at him.

Gently, he placed the Tool in my hand. It was heavy but, it felt good to hold it! He moved his ladder closer so he could show me how to hold it just right and press the trigger. Chnk! Chnk again! And again, and again! I was in heaven!

“Whoa! Slow down, little lady! That’s too close together!” he said. But it was no use: I was unstoppable! I had found My Tool and I was gonna use it! And use it! I was trying to think of other things that needed to be nailed……..anything……..anything at all! Just please, please don’t make me give up My Tool, okay??

Well, he did make me stop, and, when he left, he took My Tool with him. And the cute little “baby” air compressor that ran it. I was heartbroken! I finally found my True Love, and lost it, all in one day! It didn’t matter that I didn’t have anything else to nail; all I could think about was how good it felt to hold it!

I know what you’re thinking: either this woman is incredibly naïve, or she knows how to use a double entendre! Let me give you a hint: I hang out with the Toe, ya know!

A woman and her Tool,

It’s a beautiful sight.

Think I’ll hang out

With my Tool tonight.

We’ll screw something together

Or maybe, take it apart.

Or saw it in a thousand pieces,

That would surely warm my heart!

But as I use these Tools

And have my evening fun,

I know they’re just a substitute

For my beloved Nail Gun!

Someday I will have my Tool,

You know, the Real One,

He and I will nail away,

And have a lot of fun!

Why??

They come to me at inopportune times,

Taunting me with their quickness and light.

Swirling about in my head so easily,

I try to remember them, with all my might.

And when I finally find a better time,

A time to remember them and contemplate,

They have flitted right out of my head,

Always in a hurry, never willing to wait.

And so, I sit here, empty-headed

Not knowing what clever thing to say.

Why, Oh Why, dear enlightened words,

Did you have to jump up and go away?

Still in Ode Mode: My Favorite Place

Oh, how I love your softness!

Tis thee I wish I could wed….

But who ever heard of marrying

Your very own queen-size bed?

Every night, you comfort me,

When I lay me down to rest.

Cots may come, and bunks may go,

But it’s you I love the best!

Not too soft, and not too hard,

Your mattress is just perfect!

I go to bed so very weary,

And wake up feeling terrific!

You know how much I love you,

There’s little about which to complain,

But why, oh why, Sweet Bed O’Mine,

Do you make me get up in the rain?

Why don’t you just let me stay,

And get some serious sleep?

Why do you make me go out in the storm,

When, your company, I’d rather keep?

Love letters tucked under my pillow,

Soft blankets are covering me,

Why, oh why do you send me away,

When it is here, I’d rather be!

No matter where I wander,

No matter where I roam….

There’s no place like my own bed,

In my very own Home Sweet Home!

The Comforters....

They are everywhere, in every land,

Their numbers are legion.

Living in every city, in every town,

In every village and every region.

They do good works so quietly,

Not wasting their time on praise,

Good thoughts, kind gestures, a touch

Fill many moments of their days.

They are The Comforters of this world,

Helping others with their giving,

Bringing comfort to those who need it,

And giving Life back to the living.

The Comforters know, in their hearts,

That the deed is in the doing,

No need to publicize or share,

Good deeds are not for viewing.

The joy is in the giving to others,

The peace is in knowing who you are,

And The Comforters shine brightly,

Like each quiet and brilliant star.

For every kind and caring gesture,

To every heart that is battered and torn,

The Comforter can only hope,

That a new Comforter has been born.

And, if that dream comes to fruition,

And each inner Comforter is released,

This world will be a much different one,

Full of quiet, and comforting, peace.

Ode to My Blond Guys!!

Here’s to you,

Blond, gnarly dudes!

With golden voices,

And attitudes.

You asked for help,

From Dear Little Rhonda,

Drove around in a woody,

And not a Honda.

You asked me to

Be true to my school,

And wore Hawaiian shirts,

How very cool!

You hung ten

And rode the curl,

Then asked me to be

Your Surfer Girl.

You never sang

About Doom and Gloom

Even when you spent time

In your room.

And once, you jammed

With Dean and Jan

Sang and laughed

Through “Barbara Ann.”

My teenage years

Were full of joys,

Thanks to you,

Dear Beach Boys!

Cali-Surf's Up!-fornia Blonde

Sweet Summer Memories..

Sometimes it’s fun to look back at places and times and things that made life special when I was young. Was it really as great as I remember it? Or has my mind “edited” out the parts that don’t fit in the memory I want to keep?

During the summer, we ate outside more often than we ate in the house. We played until it was almost dark, and then gathered on Daddy’s Marine Corps blanket, in the middle of the back lawn, to live the classics, as Daddy read them to us.

Slowly, gently the earth has warmed,

No chilling wind on this summer day.

Gone is the snow, gone are the clouds,

Sprinklers sprinkle, and children play.

Butterflies, with their regal wings,

Flitter among the pretty flowers.

In the shade of a tree, is a good place to be,

And the children play there for hours.

Daddy pulls out the rusty old barbeque

And, with a wire brush, cleans the grill.

The charcoal is lit, in the dark old pit,

Pleasant summer memories linger still.

Mama’s gone back in the kitchen,

She’s making homemade ice cream.

Summer’s more sublime, Most of the time,

Or that’s just the way it would seem.

Running around in the backyard at dark,

The grass feels velvety between our toes,

Mismatched shirts, over ragged shorts,

Oh, how I loved those summer clothes.

Sitting down to a pleasant summer meal,

Under a blanket of bright, heavenly stars,

Grilled hamburger patties, toasted buns,

And mustard and mayo, right from the jars.

Corn on the cob, with melted butter,

A fresh green salad and olives, too.

It’s all so delicious, but remember:

Save room for lots of ice cream, too!

After supper, when the dishes are cleared,

Gathered on the blanket, it’s time to read,

Daddy’s voice brings alive “Gulliver’s Travels”

What more perfect evening could I conceive?

For My Best, Best Friend

Long ago, and far away,
This sweet little boy stood in a park.
A pensive look
And deep, brown eyes,
On his journey, barely embarked.

As he traveled on his appointed path,
It seemed that it would never end.
In the school of Life
He picked up titles:
Student, soldier, husband, father, friend.

And life went on in a normal fashion
Still seeming as if it would never end.
Then things changed,
And rearranged,
And his star began to descend.

He began to fear, for his Twilight Years,
Was this descent to be his fate?
Trying one last dance,
He took a chance
And asked his Somebody for a date.

The evening was like magic,
As if a Genie opened up a jar.
Their love revealed
And, with a kiss, sealed
By the light of a shooting star.

No more doubts or uncertainties,
No need to wonder how it might end,
No more fears,
For his Twilight Years
Will be spent with his best, Best Friend.

Simple Things....

It seems to me, that simple things

Are the ones with the most meaning.

A well-worn book, a peaceful smile,

Innocent, or so they’re seeming.

Simple foods prepared lovingly,

Served on dishes from generations ago

Pictures of relatives, long since gone,

Cherished still, and missing them so.

Sweeping the floor in the kitchen,

Gathering up papers to recycle soon,

Pinching pennies, saving string,

Nourishing hope, this day in June.

What do I need that I do not have?

What is it that I cannot live without?

My world is full of life’s bounty

I am rich; of that, I have no doubt.

Simple chores, simple living,

Taking care to appreciate it all

The things and people who surround me

Giving thanks daily, for great and small.

Looking at the glass as being half-full,

Thinking about the lessons I would preach,

Not remorseful over that which is not mine,

Or envious of the wealth I will not reach.

I cannot complain about being poor

For I am wealthy beyond all measure,

A simple life, lived simply, is mine,

And the Love given to me to treasure.

Questions

Once in awhile, something happens,

Someone comes into your life.

You see him with different eyes,

Eyes you have ever used before.

Colors are brighter, lights are lighter

Everything around you has an aura.

Nothing is as it once was

All is old, but new again.

Rain is refreshing, sunlight is brighter

Grass is greener, its smell: sweeter.

Things that bothered you before

Are now really quite tolerable.

Things that merely made you happy

Now make you incredibly joyful.

Have you changed yourself?

Or did his presence change you?

Or has the truth just awakened

Your sleeping heart?

Does it matter what happens next?

Or can you be content with today’s joy?

Can you be who you really are,

Once you see who he really is?

Do you need to see the future?

Or can you be content with today?

Through Loving Eyes

Things that were old are new again,

When seen through loving eyes.

Roads traveled many times before,

Take me to very different places.

What was once no more than mundane,

Commonplace and very well known,

Has now become new and exciting

When seen through loving eyes.

You touch me with your embrace,

And hold me close and whisper,

And all the world is a concert hall,

Playing a melody just for us.

Things that bloomed, bloom more profusely,

Colors glow in surrealistic shades.

Laughter makes my heart take flight,

And lifts the veil of pain and sorrow.

Has the world really changed?

Or taken off some cruel disguise?

Or am I seeing it again for the first time,

When I look at it with loving eyes?

Sometimes I Get Introspective........

There are two forms of solitude:

One is loneliness, an unfortunate state,

And aloneness, which is chosen.

Loneliness leads to isolation and despair

Aloneness provides a time for repair.

Making choices that preserve my sense of self

Is not the same as being abandoned by another.

Sometimes abandonment is accidental

And my someone did not want to leave.

Other times, it is done with a purpose

Either way, it causes me to grieve.

Is it harder to grieve the loss of someone

Who did not want to go away?

Or is the pain more palpable when

The other is still living and just decided to stray?

Can the difference between the types

Of solitude be measured or judged?

Can aloneness provide comfort

That loneliness can’t?

Is there any joy to be had in finding out

That the choice to abandon me was calculated

To cause maximum grief on my part?

There is no joy in loneliness but

There can be great joy in mastering aloneness.

Learning to be comfortable with myself;

Leisurely learning what makes me tick.

Testing my strength and endurance

By placing me in the thick of it.

Having the time, in my aloneness,

To come to the realization:

I know who I am, I know where I’m going

And I know what it is that I want.

In my aloneness, through introspection

Deep in my heart of hearts,

I find that the Whole of me,

Is greater than my Parts.

And when I am in this place,

Looking carefully at my needs,

Sometimes I see that the Sum of me

Is made up of good deeds.

My Friend the Sea

The sea is a mirror.

It reflects the rays of sunlight

Which dance along the waves.

The ocean looks blue when the sky is blue;

Gray when the fog approaches.

The wind talks to me.

When the sky is blue and the sea is calm,

The wind whispers in my ear.

But when the sky is filled with menacing clouds,

And the sea is swirling and chopping,

The wind nearly knocks me over

As it rages insults in my ear.

Yet, after the storm,

As the clouds hurry on to another place,

And the seas diminish

And the wind returns to its senses,

I am beckoned again to the sea.

Only a moment ago it shunned me

And sent me away.

But it calls me once more

And so I venture out again to meet the sea,

To play in its calm waters,

And run away when it is angry.

The wind laughs as I hasten to my friend.

The Days of My Life...

I’ve never had wealth.

I had power for a while but, 

I gave it back.

Knowledge, I’ve gained

Over the years

Serves me well when I need it

My looks are fine but 

I don’t stand out

I am just one of the crowd.

Blessings come and blessings go

Sorrows followed by bouts of joy.

Seeing the people in my world

Through loving eyes.

Walking gently through

The days of my life.

Enjoying what I can and 

Ignoring the rest.

Working hard each day

To provide for my food and shelter.

There is only one thing that I have

That you cannot have….

No matter how hard you may try.

You can never, and I will always…

Be trying to be the very best 

ME.

Let Peace Be...

Farm boys left the plow behind
Picked up a gun and went off to fight.
Landing on some far off beach, frightened
Falling, forever, before the fall of night.

Surgeons fighting desperately to save
A jagged, bleeding nearly shot-off limb.
Chaplains trying to keep souls nourished,
Saying prayers, softly; pleadingly sing a hymn

Nurses going from bed to bed
Trying to care for the wounded and dying.
Always with a smile on their faces,
No one needs to see them crying.

Astronauts fighting the world’s cold war
Lost in an instant in the capsule’s flames.
Others died in the sky, years later
Does anyone even remember their names?

Many wars have been fought by this country
Always, it seems, in the name of peace.
War declared on other countries, that’s true.
More wars fought here, to say the least.

Wars against more deadly foes
If loss of life is what we see.
War on poverty, inequality, ignorance
Disease and injustice, it seems to me.

Lives laid down in the name of freedom
Lives lost so that others might live
Lives lost to help the human race.
There is no more that one can give.

How can we ever repay those who died,
Giving the ultimate gift they had to give?
How can we honor their memory,
Except by the example that we live?

So let there be no more wars on this earth
No more death and dying needlessly
No more hurry to fight those battles
And please, Dear People, Let Peace Be.

I Cannot Help But Wonder Why???

I met a little guy, 5 years old, in my travels as a home health nurse. 

He was dirty, and skinny, and had no shoes. When he smiled, his front teeth were all metal. But when he smiled, his eyes sparkled, and I had to return the smile. He lives with his grandpa who is confined to a wheelchair. The little guy is grandpa's caregiver. He was fascinated with my nursing bag and wanted to see everything in it. I wanted to give him something, so I gave him my tape measure. You would think I had given him a winning lottery ticket! He hugged me for an eternity. 

I couldn't stop thinking about him today; and I derived no comfort from knowing that my own grandchildren live comfortably. I wrote this for that little guy.

Is there some plausible reason why

If God made us all the same,

Some people live in abject poverty

And others vacation in Spain?

Why are children born with birth defects

And heart-breaking anomalies?

Why, in the world’s richest nation

Are there so many poor families?

Prenatal care, post partum checks

Well-baby clinics and education

Why can’t this be a reality

In the world’s richest nation?

Preventative medicine, annual check-ups

Should be a routine part of health care.

Keep people well and functional

And keep them off of welfare.

Children in Appalachia

Just want to learn to read.

Their parents never learned

Too many mouths to feed.

Children in Mississippi

Just want a place to live.

Charities look for volunteers

With building skills to give.

Children wandering darkened streets,

Their parents gone, or unknown

Their fondest hope, and greatest wish

Is to find a warm and loving home.

Children who fear going home

To torture and abuse

Children living a silent tragedy

From perpetrators on the loose.

Is this just an isolated problem

Magnified by Media sensation?

Or is this a horrific travesty

In the world’s richest nation?

We have to look at these problems

The depth, and breadth, and scope

For these children are our future

These children are our hope.

I Went Down to the River Today

I went down to the river today,

Had a lot of thinking to do.

Down to the river to think for awhile.

Pleasant thoughts, all about you.

I went down to the river today,

Took off my shoes and got my feet wet.

Water was cold; I won’t go any farther,

I’m not ready to take the plunge yet.

I went down to the river today,

Watched the water as it flowed by

Washing the rocks and moving the sand

I was watching and wondering why.

I went down to the river today,

Sat on a rock at the river’s edge.

Watched the sunlight dapple on the water,

Closed my eyes and let myself veg.

I went down to the river today,

Looked at the water and shed a tear,

Thought about you, and me, and us,

Wondering: what is it that I fear?

I went down to the river today,

Thinking: what if you should go away?

Will I be able to carry on or not?

I won’t look at that sad day.

I went down to the river today,

Looked at the water and had to say:

“I know I always want to be with you,

Come down to the river with me and play.”

I went down to the river today,

What, to my surprise, did I see?

Sitting right there on that big ol’ rock,

You were waiting, and smiling, just for me!

I Give Myself Permission

To Be A Woman:

To recognize and appreciate that which makes me different from a man.

To recognize and appreciate that which attracts me to a man.

To wear dresses, and perfume, and carry a huge purse, if I want

To paint my fingernails and toenails hot pink

To wear a toe ring….a Toe Ring…….how appropriate!

To wear my favorite bangle bracelets.

To Be A Little Girl Again:

To sit on the floor and teach my granddaughter to play jacks

To color outside the lines, if I want

To play “dress-up” at the second-hand store

To sing my favorite songs, out of tune

To laugh for the pure joy of laughing

To say “EWWWWWWWWW” and “Whatever”

To Be A Professional Nurse:

To be a nurturer, a teacher, a friend, and a confidante

To be a fighter, aggressively seeking what my patients need

To be an expert, providing the quality care my patients deserve

To be funny, and fun, and smiling, bringing the sunshine into their lives

To advocate for issues that are important to me, such as child abuse

To Be A Friend:

To enjoy the gift of friendship that has been given to me

To treat each of my friends respectfully, and with caring

To appreciate the things we have in common, and 

To celebrate our differences

To “be there” for them, as they always are for me

To trust and be trusted

To Be A Lover:

To find in another the love that I seek

To appreciate, and not question it

To give of myself completely and not hold back

To treasure the gift that he gives me

To find joy in our relationship

To find love in our lifetime 

To discard expectations and value what really is

To give my heart and receive his in return

To Be All These Things At One Time:

To find my joy and infuse it in all my relationships

To seek knowledge and find it in unexpected places

To give more than I receive, at least initially

To appreciate fully the gifts that I receive from those I love

To hold dear the principles upon which I was raised

To demonstrate my concern for others every day

To laugh at myself, instead of others

To find humor, and love, and caring in out-of-the-way encounters

To be open to change, and embrace familiarity

To be a worthy occupant of this crazy world!

No More....

No more loud and boisterous nights

No more listening to all their fights.

No more friends at the front door.

No more need to keep the score.

No more legos, scattered about

No more saying: “please don’t shout!”

No need to be King Solomon wise…

No more “that’s not fair!” cries.

No more milk cartons in the fridge,

Empty, of course, not even a smidge.

No more cooking to feed an army,

No more socks smelling so smarmy.

No more sitting around the table at night

Listening to their conversations with delight.

No more lying awake at night for the sound,

Of one more kid who, Home, has found.

No more stretching the budget to feed

All those kids and any friend in need…

Of a home-cooked meal, served with love,

And a pinch and a push and a kick and a shove.

No more greetings in the early morn..

From the first, and second, and third-born.

No more hugs as they hurry on by….

No more leavings, to make Mom cry.

No more pitter-patter of chubby little feet,

No more peanut butter kisses so sweet.

So many “no mores” what am I to do?

No more kids saying “Mom, I love you!”

Sitting in my solitude, watching HGTV,

My cell phone rings, of course it’s for me.

A young man asks if, a ticket I will buy,

Earning money for camp, he’s giving it a try.

I don’t need a ticket, for heaven’s sakes,

I don’t eat breakfast, much less pancakes!

But he’s so sweet, what can I do?

“Thanks, Grandma, I love you!”

Life does come full circle, doesn’t it?