Childhood Whispers

As I walk into
The clearing
Time slowly rewinds
The rises and falls
In this small plot of
Gently rolling land
Are interrupted by
A quiet stream
And perfectly placed oaks
A perimeter of pines
Provides a freedom
Not easily found
In the outside world
Freedom taken for granted
Until life allows for
Both leaving
And returning-
As I walk down
That familiar road
Still shaded by trees
The whispers
Of many childhoods
Are carried on the breeze-
There you are!
We are so glad to see you again.
Won’t you come and play?

Waiting on the arrival of sweet Emilia has me reflecting on many things- my own childhood, the childhoods of our children, the continuing seasons of parenting, and now becoming a grandparent. I am looking forward to once again seeing life in a new light.

Ok, Emilia. We are all ready to meet you! 💗

Simply Sunday

Digging in the Dirt

As we were planting flowers today, my husband reminded me that I used to be a kid. In other words, it was ok to dig in the dirt. He’s right.

When I was a kid, I loved being outside. Playing kickball, basketball, riding my bike, and digging in the dirt. Only after practicing piano and violin, of course.

Well, I may not enjoy it quite as much as when I was a kid. But, the results are worth the sweat and sore muscles. Especially when we are working together.

Poems From the Circle

Once again, sharing poems from the writing circle. I continue to be grateful for this experience. Can’t believe it’s been three years! Thank you, Ali, http://flashlightbatteries.blog for creating this beautiful space. ❤️

Sweet Dreams

Can you imagine?
Camping in the woods
Red-orange glow
Of the campfire
Smell of smoke
Sleeping in a tent
So serene…until
Seven little girls
Bathing in a
Small tin tub
On top of a
Wooden picnic table
Enter the picture-
Warm water carefully
Poured over each
Little head
The night air
Filled with giggles
As they dry off
In front of the fire-
Maybe not so serene
Except for the
Sweet dreams
Of sleepy headed
Children after
A busy day
Exploring
The wonders
Of the wild woods

A Little Longer

I seem to be
Spending
More time
Inside my heart
These days
Blocking out
The noisy world
Ignoring my own
Thoughts
So as not
To neglect
A single memory of you-
I know some
Will fade
With time
But for now
It is my heart
That holds
Each image
Your quiet strength
Your gentle smile
Your sky-blue eyes
It is a sacred job
This holding
So, I think
I will remain
Inside my heart
Just a little longer

A Gift of Music

The music store was one of my favorite places to visit as a little girl. I was so excited to browse the new piano sheet music and beg my mom for a new song. Are there any bad words? She would always ask if it was a pop song. No! I would reassure her.

I was recently gifted a stack of piano music. Thumbing through the pages took me right back to those childhood days. And each piece, familiar and unfamiliar, reminded me that music truly is a precious gift.

I recorded a couple of the songs. Enjoy! ❤️

Raindrops Keep Falling On My head

Lara’s Theme from Doctor Zhivago

In the Dirt

Hard to believe
I ever spent time
Digging
In the dirt
But I remember…
So much fun
Imaginations
Running wild
In the dirt
Seems silly now
The things once
Thought possible
In a little girl’s plans…
Sometimes the dirt
Was not forgiving
Washing it away
Required extra
Scrubbing-But, oh
The sweet smell
Of playing
In the dirt
Right before
The rain
Perhaps, it is time
To get my hands dirty
Do a little more
Digging
Wake that old
Imagination
From its dirt-free
Slumber and not
Worry so much
About looking clean

I continue to be amazed and grateful for the connections created through poetry circles facilitated by Ali Grimshaw. ❤️ https://flashlightbatteries.blog/

Worth Telling

Magic
In a tiny
Cardboard disc
Cutout windows
Evenly spaced
Around its edges
Each one holding
Transparent film
Unclear images
Until said disc
Is carefully placed
In the slot on top
Of the viewfinder-
Eyes glued
To the lenses
Held up to the light
And a whole new
Word emerges
Click the side button
To continue the journey
Image after image
Sharing a story
Worth telling-
We all have a story
Worth telling
Our very own
Cardboard disc
Filled with
Windows
To the soul

Sharing another poetry circle poem. Thankful for opportunities and connections. ❤️

Simply Sunday

Baby Steps

Your tiny forehead
Tilted to one side
Quizzically
Looking my way

I think I like you?

Tiny strategic moves
On my part
Required
To bring us closer

Do you want to play?

Magic of sunglasses
Tiny red flowers
Silly iridescent mirrors
Yours vs. mine

I see your eyes quietly smiling…

Your tiny forehead
Leaning toward mine
Briefly touching
Before leaning back

Oh yes, I think I like you!

Won’t You Be My Neighbor? by Fred Rogers Kelley Morris, piano

Draw Close

Tiny lanterns
Too numerous
To count
Carefully drape
The night skies
A select few
Are strung
Between
Silhouetted
Pine branches
Beautifully
Complex
And yet
The simplest
Of words
Draw close
Twinkle, twinkle little star
Familiar tune
Quietly hums
In the night air
Star light, star bright
Innocent wishes
From days gone
Gently return
The simplest
Of words
Tiny lanterns
Driving the darkness away

Colorado sky at 3:00 A.M.

Simply Sunday

Adventurous One

Early morning
When there is
Barely enough
Light to see
Or early evening
After the sun
Sinks below
The horizon
Those times
Are safest
For romping
And playing
In the soft blades
Expending
All energy
Before pausing
To graze our fill-
But some days
When the sun
Sits high in
The middle
Of the day
Temptation
Is too great
Warmth and light
Too much to ignore
All concerns
Disappear
As I run thru
Open fields
Fearless and free
For just a few
Moments
Until lovingly called
Back into the grove
Protected
In the shade
Of the trees

I’ve previously written about the herd of deer near our home. We often spot them in the early morning or late afternoon. I’m always glad to see them happily grazing in the field.

One day recently, I got a surprise. Driving by in the middle of the day, I spotted a young deer hopping in the field! It was all by itself. I could just imagine its mom calling from the edge of the trees, Ok! That’s enough! Playtime is over!

Morning News

I sit quietly
In my house
This morning
Drinking hot tea
Watching the morning news
Never having experienced the kind of fear
That would cause me to flee my home
Searching for a place of safety
A shelter under the ground
Where explosions above
That will destroy my home
And those of my friends and family
Cannot reach my children
I don’t know that kind of fear
Not fear of natural disasters
Unavoidable depending on location
But fear of weapons
Created by man
Neighbor against neighbor
Strong overtaking weak
Seeking what?
Power and greed
Seem the most common answers-
I sit quietly
In my house
This morning
Unable to erase the image
Of a precious little girl
On the morning news
Her big eyes filled with tears
Hiding underground
Unable to block
The sounds of bombs
Exploding on the surface
Perhaps I should not try
To erase her image
Instead, let it sear into my memory
Reminding me to pray for light
To find her in that dark place