Always a welcome guest
Your brightness,
not to be ignored
As you gently alight
on the fence
I catch my breath
You seem to smile as
Snowflakes land on
your scarlet feathers-
A perfect contrast
Perhaps that is why
You so often shake
me out of my grief
Taken back by your beauty,
I sweetly reminisce
And for just a moment,
See the faces of those I miss
If I were to write a thankful list,
It would be a list of names.
Names of those who,
through the years,
planted seeds in my heart.
My only fear is forgetting.
Though forgetting your name
would certainly not negate
any seed you planted. You are
so much more than a name.
You are shared smiles and tears.
Strong hands, reaching, so arms
can fiercely wrap around hurts
in a comforting embrace.
You are kind words,
encouraging high-fives,
and celebrating victories.
You are faces, memories
of hope, present on
the darkest of days.
You are one soul seeing
the beauty and purpose in another.
And I am thankful to have
sometimes been that other.
I am thankful for all the yous
written on the list carried in my heart.
We were so young then.
And now? Young at heart?
Photographs and nametags
temporarily transport us
back in time to the
start of our journeys.
We had no idea
where circumstances
and choices would take us.
Reuniting, we share memories.
But more importantly,
losses, loves, mistakes, and grace.
Seeing each other as individuals.
Connecting with more than just a memory.
So go ahead, reminisce,
just for a moment.
Let the images, old and
new, meld into a sweet
recollection before saying,
Goodbye, it was so good to see you.
Gathering
Some carried flags
Others held carefully crafted
signs clearly expressing their purpose
People from all walks of life
Chants steady and strong
No troops, no ICE
No troops, no ICE
The message filling
every ounce of space
between the buildings
that lined the city streets
A continuing steady march
toward freedom for all
No troops, no ICE
No troops, no ICE
Weaving our way through
the crowd, there was no
fear- only strength and unity,
magnetic and memorable
Gathering
The words continue ringing
Faces captured in my mind’s eye
A grateful observer documenting truth
We were guests, visitors to the city. And though not participants in Chicago’s No Kings rally and march, we stood in agreement, willing observers.
Understanding the importance and power held within peaceful protests. And it was peaceful. And it was powerful.
Thank you, Chicago, for allowing us to take in your beauty, character, food, and history. ❤️
Yesterday, we visited Johnstone’s Kiddie Park in Bartlesville, OK. We took our oldest son there when he was little, and now it was his daughter’s turn.
Some things had changed, mostly cosmetically. However, the idea of a fun and inexpensive family outing (tickets are 75 cents) remains.
Watching our granddaughter brought back sweet memories of her dad at that age. And now we have more to add to that precious file of good days.
Welcome! Have you visited the park before?
Oh, yes. I grew up around here.
Well, welcome back!
Kind words, friendly smiles.
Surrounded by nature.
Glass walls for viewing.
Birds flitting from tree to tree.
Squirrels scurrying across rocks.
Giant pines swaying, drawing eyes
toward slabs of slate lining the mountain.
I remember the views from above.
The world below seemed smaller
and bigger at the same time.
Perhaps I need to experience
that view again. An observer,
with added wisdom?
But for today, I’ll simply
enjoy the memory of
growing up around here.
Pinnacle Mountain State Park 💚
I decided to revisit a poem I wrote several years ago. Made a few changes, but the story remains the same. It just felt like the right one to share this year.
Grandpa worked hard
his entire life.
He married young.
He and Grandma
raised nine kids
in the country.
Strong and stubborn,
but loved to laugh.
Mellowed over time.
Without a doubt,
dealt with struggles
I never knew.
I can see him
wearing overalls
after a long day.
Promising to dance
at my wedding, if
I’d fetch what he needed.
Liked to argue.
Loved his family.
He was always ready to
welcome them home.
Looking forward to a
Family gathering that very day.
But in the morning,
while everyone slept,
He woke early.
Put the coffee on.
Then sat down in
his favorite chair.
At the young age of sixty-seven,
Grandpa died.
It was the Fourth of July.
We’ve spent the last several days caring for our two-year-old granddaughter. I was reminded of the times our parents did the same for us, and they were taking care of three!
The following describes most evenings as it got close to bedtime.
Wallow: to roll oneself about in a lazy, relaxed, or ungainly manner. Would you please use it in a sentence? The tired toddler wallowed back and forth, all over the couch, between her Gigi and Papa.
Seriously though, she is funny, imaginative, sassy, and sweet. And we are grateful. Oh, and tired. We are a little tired. 😉🩷
I can’t say there’s
A set recipe
For thirty-two years-
Only that laughter
Eases many tensions
Creating lasting memories-
Patience and understanding
Cover a multitude of
Life’s challenges-
And commitment is
A bond that carries
Far beyond feelings-
All of these ingredients
Leave me with a grateful heart
Looking back and looking ahead
When the Glass Breaks is a collection of poems divided into four sections: Living, Breaking, Mending, and Reflecting. Today’s poem is from the final section, Reflecting. I hope these last few weeks have provided insight into my writing style and this collection. Thanks for listening! ❤️
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