poems

“Oh, that was my Mother’s”

This woman that I kind of know
Is so very everydayish.
Not better than the most of us,
Not down there with the worst of us
Just kind of in the middle.

She has a kind of homespun cozy way about her and
Thinks that rocks plucked from the shore are good
And the best of life is found in peanut butter,
Oatmeal and homemade bread.

Her ending day’s delight is
Knitting by an open fire.
While she watches sunsets,
She reminisces about her early childhood days,
Early married years and early Grandma times.

Hear and there about her home there is a basket,
A bowl, a dish or sometimes a thing she is wearing
That begs a comment from a visitor.
Very often she answers with that old time grace,
“ Oh, that was my Mother’s .”




Ode to the Huggers


Hooray for the huggers,
Hip, hip hooray
A good hug can last you
All through the day.

Good huggers aren’t born
It takes practice you see.
There’s no school where you learn
And earn a degree.

Some families are huggers
They’ve got it down pat.
All the short, all the skinny
All the tall, all the fat.

If practice makes perfect,
and that’s what I’ve heard.
That’s probably their secret
in professional words.

Just how did they learn
each sister, each brother?
When their times were tough
They just clung to each other.



IT’S SAFE WITH Katie

Our thoughts and feelings are precious things
that are built upon the
shaky foundation of our youth
and tossed around by life events.

They are not what they used to be
They never are
Whatever they were at age 10 or 20 or 40,
they have been strained and filtered
into something very different today.

We all look for places for
these precious and private things
Wherever we keep them we want them to be safe
With my friend, they are safe.
She will love them, treasure them and
respect them because she knows their
source.

Unfinished



It’s important to try
lots of stuff this and that.
so that when you arrive
at that place where you’re at.
And you’ve dressed for the day
You choose the right hat.
Just suppose that you get a call from your friends
to meet them for tea
Or you plan to sail the seven seas
or climb some mountains

Or go to the palace
and have lunch with Alice
She lives in a palace







Her Mom’s Blue Jars

A friend and I were talking
about our childhood
about our times so long ago,
about our Mothers

Their lives were different than ours,
more cleaning, more gardening, more cooking .
We talked about their joys
We talked about their sadness.

We asked ourselves,
what little thing of theirs could we keep
to remind us of these long ago women
who taught us that life would be good if we were.

My friend wanted to keep her Mom’s blue jars.
As a child she watched as the jars were filled
with precious food to keep the large family
fed during the long hard winter months.

One by one, emptied, washed and placed back on the shelf.
The blue jars stood like sentrys waiting
to be called upon to preserve and protect.
Waiting patiently
for their call to duty.

In the bright blessed light of the summer sun.
those blue sentrys gleamed.
Small blue eyes seeing more than blue.
They stood and waited in their very silent place
showing off their beauty .





WHAT DOES A FRIEND LOOK LIKE

I always wondered if I would know a
friend by how they looked
or where they lived
or how much money they had
or if they took vacations
or who their friends were.

I also wondered if a person
had only one best friend,
but when I grew up I found
the best in many friends.

I have a friend for each of
the following, when I go through
things with my man, my Mom,
my kids, my job, my neighbors.
One that I shop with, cry with,
get confused with and one that
takes me back after I have
made a complete fool of myself.

Seldom do I find one friend with
many of these things all wrapped up
in one. But I have one that has many,
that I look to for support and love.

Come to think of it, she does have
a look. She wears a funny red hat,
has curly white hair, lives on a farm,
paints watercolors and is always there
when I need a friend. She was sent
from God. I will remember to thank
Him for the gift of her.