Category Archives: Family

Shedding to Grow

17 Friday Feb 2017

Posted by in Animals and Insects, Children, Family, Inspiration, Life, Nature

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Sneaker in grass

Sloughed off from a
lengthy body, the
tunnel of snakeskin
in the grass still surprises me,

the thought that he’s
outgrown himself again a
little intimidating; well, actually,
quite frightening. Yet,

I’m not concerned when I find
leather uppers lying in the lawn,
flung off because they are too small
for the young boy out there.

I know he chose to shed the shoes
so he could go farther faster;
and I may shed a tear or two
as he stretches and grows;

but, we all bask together
under the same sun,
shedding and growing until
day is done.

Time Warp

12 Sunday Feb 2017

Posted by in Children, Family, Inspiration, Life

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Red trike from behind

Its paint now faded red,
the back tires are as crooked
as the front wheel is bent;
yet, the tricycle frames itself
proud to support another brother.

As chunky little legs
pump the pedals round,
puffy little cheeks wiggle
from side to side across
the aged and battered seat.

I follow behind; but, as usual,
am outpaced in no time.
I see his smile as he turns,
and I’m caught in a time warp
of yesterdays and tomorrows.

Warmed by Winter

11 Wednesday Jan 2017

Posted by in Family, Inspiration, Life, Weather

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Fireplace

I closed my eyes
to summon summer back,
when the sun warmed my bare skin
and the landscape lushed green,

But I shuddered as the
warmth of the crackling fireplace,
encircled my chilled body,
bringing loving memories of

family, hot cocoa in hand,
laughing as we looked out at
the lopsided snowman we
made only a few moments ago.

I take a deep breath in,
absorbing today’s wintry scene
of contrasted white snow and
the ever darkening sky,

knowing I don’t want to miss
living in the present moment,
where the cold reflects warmth
and time to slow down and enjoy it.

Welcome Home, Pumby!

02 Monday Jan 2017

Posted by in Children, Family, Humor, Life, Muse, Seasonal

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Girl silhouette with dandelion seeds blowing

Pumby was with us
for a few years back then.
Our three-year-old daughter’s
imaginary best friend

graced our table, seated in the
“empty” chair at our tea parties.
At night, she lay under the bed,
keeping the monsters away.

They got along so well. Pumby
was a perfect friend and scapegoat,
accepting her role as the guilty one
when something went wrong.

We were told she moved to
New York City when
the girls were teens, but
she’s baaaack!

Who else could have
let the mouse in,
or shoved the dirty socks
under the bed.

And who else would’ve
lit fireworks past midnight,
then wake me by turning
up the music at dawn?

Welcome home, Pumby,
and Happy New Year!

Not A Minute Before Its Time

19 Saturday Nov 2016

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The dining table, covered with
Mama’s fanciest tablecloth,
seats 15 related bodies today,
nervous they’ll not be comfortable,
yet all excited to be together.

They don’t notice the fine china
brought down from the highest cupboard,
the special silverware from the felted box,
nor the crystal water glasses that sparkle.

The platters and dishes pass quickly
as people fill their plates with mounds of
homemade mashed potatoes, dressing, and
thick slices of slow-roasted turkey.

But as the gravy boat is passed, the
clatter seems to stall as focus is shifted
to the slow stream of gravy as it
flows down over the spout
of the crackled and faded gravy boat;

And in that moment, all thoughts of
the immediacy of today’s lives–
cellphones, iPads, and streaming videos,
are replaced with flashbacks of

Grandma with her starched apron
covering her best Sunday dress,
leaning over the steaming pan, stirring
until the gravy mixture was perfect;

And I find myself,
like Grandma and her gravy,
unable to let this holiday pass
a minute before its time.

Decadently Retired

28 Friday Oct 2016

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image

Like licking the spatula
when no one’s looking,
Or sneaking up to see
if Santa’s been there,

It feels decadently naughty
to sleep in till after eight, or
to order pizza delivery
in the middle of the afternoon.

But it’s the privilege of
being retired, and I think I’ll
pour a glass of wine, and…
I’ll be asleep before nine!

An Old-Fashioned Kitchen

06 Saturday Feb 2016

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Kitchen table set

The door hung crooked
on rusty, rickety hinges;
its half-coiled catch-spring
had seen better days;

its wiry old screen stretched
‘tween thin wooden slats,
served as air-conditioner
and the way in and out.

The “foyer” you entered was a porch
lined with boots and shoes,
where coats hung on J hooks
for everyday use.

Company entered here, too–
adults going on to the living room;
children in and out the screen door, then
joining adults for the supper meal.

It was acceptable to entertain
in the commons areas back then—
no formal rooms or dens to show off.
People came to visit; they came to see you.

Today, there are front-area sitting rooms
where guests are ushered; they’ll not linger.
Time is a commodity, in short supply,
so visits are limited, an agenda attached.

It’s kind of sad it’s come to this,
guests being entertained in these special rooms
instead of being welcomed
into the hearts of our homes.

Following the Cloven Hoof Trail

03 Sunday Jan 2016

Posted by in Family, Inspiration, Seasonal

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I followed two-forked tracks
As they skimmed o’er the snow,

And thought, oh what fun
they must have had last night.

I lost the trail
as I neared the house–

what could’ve happened
as I lay sound asleep?

Therein lies the most wondrous surprise,
For right before my very eyes,

As I looked up at the roof’s crusty freeze,
I saw it was broken by cloven hoofs.

Now, it’s said on a very special night,
a sleighful of goodies arrives by flight
filled with candy treats and bazillions of toys
for all the good little girls and boys…

Yet there’s only adults
at this particular house,
Why were they there?
Did I even care?

*****. *****

Days have now passed since
I found the trail, but I’m beginning to see
why he stopped by my way. He left

not a package, but the present he gave
was sharing the secret of spirit with me.

“Be present,” he said,
“enjoy every day,
include friends and family
along the way.”

I now smile with the spirit dwelling within,
I feel blessed he chose me to visit this year,

and yes,
if anyone sees the tracks on my roof,
I’ll tell them the story of cloven hoofs.

 

Extending the Season

01 Friday Jan 2016

Posted by in Family, Inspiration, Life, Seasonal

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As we close the Christmas season and greet
the new year, wishing all a Happy New Year.

image

Glowing lights on houses,
Brightly lit trees in windows,
Excited children fidgeting
As they await Santa’s return.

‘Tis the season for sharing
Warmth and good cheer,
May these peaceful times
Spread throughout the new year.

Returning Home

11 Wednesday Nov 2015

Posted by in Children, Family, Inspiration, Nature, Seasonal, Weather

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Fall leaves in motion

I savored the colorful fallen leaves
and the deep, woodsy scent
of maple and oak as I tried to
shape their formation.

The harder I struggled against the winds,
the more the pile seemed to separate,
small clusters encircling my knees,
twirling with excitement as they rose to leave.

And I thought of children, young adults really,
leaving with the anxiousness of Autumn winds.

I know they both will return changed,
some choosing a brief visit,
others remaining among the familiar,
enriching the land and the lives
they touch as they settle in.

With the love of a mother,
I embrace the changes
and look forward to
once again sharing our worlds.

The Wisdom of Time

05 Saturday Sep 2015

Posted by in Family, Inspiration, Life

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Grandfather clock
The Grandfather clock
swayed through the era,

its pendulum
a perpetual motion,

its steady beat
an unconscious message
to those around it,
keeping them on track,

teaching them to
swing with the highs,
push through the lows,

and enjoy the balance found
within the rhythm;

Thus, like the hands
on the clock face,

they were able to make
every minute count.

Learning Compassion

05 Sunday Jul 2015

Posted by in Animals and Insects, Children, Family, Inspiration, Life, Love, Nature

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I thought I knew compassion,
but when I looked into his eyes,
I knew I’d never felt that way.

The tenderness he offered a lost dog,
the inner need he had to help,
to makes things better for her
brought warmth to my heart.

Then I watched his seven-year-old eyes swell with tears
as they walked the streets and found her owner.
The dog of his dreams was gone,
returned to her scared and punitive owner,
and his heart was breaking.

As I watched this young boy walk away,
head hanging, brown eyes saddened by the struggle,
I knew he was learning doing the right thing
can feel wrong sometimes,
but I could also see that he can’t help but be who he is,
and that he’d do it again.

Musical Van Delight

01 Wednesday Jul 2015

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Some vans play rock or rap,
others a country fiddle,
But the van that travels my street
meets halfway in the middle.

Its sound is like a harpsichord
broadcast for ALL to hear;
The now familiar melody
says ice cream is very near.

Nostalgic to us oldsters,
Now common to young alike;
We all clutch our dimes and quarters
in search of cool delights.

Displaced

08 Monday Jun 2015

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Seeking quiet space,
I found refuge in
corners all across town.

I sought shelter, as if
without a home;
Coffee shops, libraries,
stores and malls.

When badged officers
did a double take
as they walked by,
I’d look engrossed
in the library book.

However, their routinely presence
eventually brought discomfort;
I couldn’t stay there any longer;
where next could I go?

At the local mall,
I window shopped, yet
security officers
stared suspiciously
as if to say,
“It’s time you moved on.”

I left, but scorching heat
kept me moving
from one air-conditioned space
to another.

Constantly on the move,
often feeling unwanted,
I fled time and time again.

But I’m lucky.
I was merely displaced
by the two men
up on my roof.

From dawn to dusk,
their hammers commanded
I leave my nest, but
I have a home to return to.

Power of a Raindrop book

06 Saturday Jun 2015

Posted by in Animals and Insects, Art, Children, Family, Health, Humor, Inspiration, Life, Love, Mountains, Nature, Philosophy, Seasonal, Weather, Writing

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Power of a Raindrop cover

I’m excited to share that I now have a book of poetry, Power of a Raindrop, published and available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and through the publisher. If you order from the publisher, the first 10 to order will receive 15% off the retail price. http://shop.ravenbooks.net.

Acrostic About Trust Challenge

17 Tuesday Feb 2015

Posted by in Children, Family, Inspiration, Life, Love, Poetic Challenges

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A child holds your hand, and
before she knows it, she’s
caught up in the steps and
doesn’t realize you’ve let go, so
easily she goes forward on her own.

And before you know it, she’s on a
bicycle, swaying, weaving,
caught up in the forward motion,
determined to ride without training wheels,
evidently unaware when you let go.

And it seems only too quickly, she gives up
bicycling, her third or fourth by now,
caring only to get behind the wheel,
driving with you as her instructor,
each lesson a little easier than the last.

From day one, you were there with her,
growing closer day by day,
her trust of you so complete.
It only seems natural,
judging by her successes, that you
know you’ve been there for her, and that you
love and trust her enough to let her go.

2/17/15

This is an acrostic variation about trust. The first three stanzas begin in succession, a-e; the last stanza’s format is f-l. The assignment also suggested internal rhymes. I played some with full rhyme, slant rhyme, assonance, and alliteration. What a fun challenge.

Languages of Love

12 Thursday Feb 2015

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language filled heart

In the gondola in Venice,
you flattered me so, “Sei bella.”

On the streets of Seville,
you charmed me, “Te adoro.”

Along the French Riviera,
you declared your love for me, “Je taime.”

But it wouldn’t matter if it were said in English or Chinese,
on the Hawaiian islands or in Timbuktu.

I see it in your eyes and in your caring ways,
and those, among many other blessings,
are why I say:

“I love you more than I did yesterday and less than I will tomorrow.”

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Translations:
Sei bella: You are beautiful
Te adoro: I adore you.
Je taime.: I love you.

I Can See Clearly Now

06 Friday Feb 2015

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sunset beach mother

I never envisioned
a sunset without oranges and reds and yellows.

I never thought blurry vision could be
anything but a view through streaming tears.

And I never dreamed I might not see your smile again
or see the love in your eyes as you look into mine.

However, as we oftentimes do,
I had taken something precious for granted.
I lost sight of things for just a little while,
though I’m sure it was a gift in disguise, for
I learned to cherish my eyesight, each and every day.

Bookmarked

20 Tuesday Jan 2015

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IMG_0269-0

Countless pages marked,
labeled as favorite,
grouped, regrouped,
synced and shared.

Now, literally hundreds
of electronic bookmarks
clutter my browser,
rarely used, oft forgotten.

Yet ask me about the single cross
Grandma crocheted for me

and I can tell you not only the
favorite passages it marked, but also
where it is at any given moment,
and what bookmarks mean to me.

Little Red Coupe

17 Saturday Jan 2015

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Although contorted accordion-style,
he sat proud behind the well-worn steering wheel
of his MG sportster bargain.
“I bought her to restore,” he said, patting the dash.

I cringed as the creaking hinges
of the passenger door allowed me in;
Yet, it was a “little red coupe”, and
I felt so tall and special in my seat.

Revving the engine for effect, then stomping it,
we slung gravel and pealed out the driveway.
Indy 500, here we come; or so we dreamed as
he hammered the accelerator to the floorboard.
I watched the speedometer pass 60, then 70, then…

It didn’t matter we could see the road through the floorboard;
and it didn’t matter we had to shout to be heard above the
roaring bursts of an untuned engine.
We were two against the road.

After a while, I no longer noticed the
vibrations and rumbles of years of neglect,
and I could see his vision as we neared the finish line,
friends and family cheering us on.

Cleaning the Attic

11 Thursday Dec 2014

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Opening, assessing; sorting, resorting.
Each item bringing a fond memory
before eventually returned to its corner.
How many years will I continue this ritual,
shifting the same things back and forth?

But who’s to say what is a treasure?
The antique toys I open once a year to clean,
the knick-knacks and buttons my grandmother gave me;
bedspreads and matching decor I can’t seem to part with,
or luggage that’s seen better miles.

I had it all figured out, I thought. That was until…
I went to give something away and found
a tag tucked inside, a reminder of the thoughtful giver.
Neatly lettered, “To Mom & Dad, With Love, 1992.”
Now how can I possibly part with anything!