Dark. Light. Medium. Triangles, circles, squares Blend together to make my quilt. A pattern emerges from my many fabrics— A pattern different from the one I imagined When I planned my quilt. Like my quilt, My life Changes patterns as I grow. Moving from small town To big city, To small town, To bigger city, I change. My quilt is the sum of many pieces, My life of many parts. Life’s plans, Heart’s woes, Experiences Made me.
I'm frittering away eternity And I cannot say why. I'm sitting eating strawberries And making pumpkin pie I think that I should make a plan.. Make earth a better place. What other dreams can I fulfill? Besides feeding my face?
One, Two, Dirt on my shoe-- Three, Four, My thumbs are sore
Five, Six Pull up dead sticks— Seven, Eight Repaint the gate— Nine, Ten— It’s Spring again
Somewhere out in the Cosmos Is someone's mother Floating Pondering Wondering How's the new program going? How did your day go? Frightening? Exciting? Enticing? How many children came? Did they enjoy the game? Boring? Exploring? Imploring? I feel I'm out of touch My poetry's not much Needs working Knee jerking Teacher lurking
Finding Joy Looking Through my Window
I use to be An independent woman. I could drive to the store Or go shopping in another town. I could walk through the hills, Or sit in my garden, pulling weeds. The whole neighborhood seemed to walk by In the evenings, laughing, chatting, waving hello.
I live in the city now. I’m afraid to drive. Familiar places are hard to find, Too far to go. Down long empty halls, Life happens behind closed doors. Walking down the stairs with fire alarms Blaring Give a chance to say hello to strangers.
I planted flowers. I have sixty two boxes on my terrace. I can still grow weeds to pull. I ask strangers for ten random words To write poetry . I sit on the plaza with a book and discuss Favorite authors with other readers. I watch children laughing.
I sit in my room Looking out my window. The cats and I watch the birds strutting Along the terrace, eating my tomatoes. I watch the construction workers building; Laying bricks and setting beams, I am reinventing me. I am an Independent woman
There is too much stuff Cluttering my life— Angry Thoughts, Words I’ve yelled and wish I could Take back Deeds I’ve left undone. I need to do some brutal editing And leave some room for sunshine.
When I look into the cloudy sky-- White caps in the blue, I think of sailboats In the sea. The waves churning with the wind. I imagine gulls sailing Above the water, The music of their calling, A harsh note in the Beauty of the day. It makes me wish That I could fly.
Somewhere the music Is playing But I can’t hear it. My windows Are closed. The radio is off. I am alone in the room. But somewhere I know The music is playing. It makes me Want to sing.
Comfort I shouldn’t take comfort in chocolate I know it’s not good for my health. But think of those children I’m aiding By helping Hershey’s amass wealth.
Lost I’m here. It’s been nearly a year And I’m still out of my comfort zone. This country mouse has moved to the big city. My friends all think this is exciting. They wish they we here; Me too Strength, Love, Endurance, Hope, Are all words I use to know. I left them, Back home.
Lucid Lucid is my favorite word, Most times because I’m not ‘Specially at 12 a.m. When numbing sleep I’ve sought
Forever Forever is a long, long time. For the hopeless and the weak What can I do How can I help To succor those Who seek
My cat is driving me crazy. For some reason she has the impression that she is the king of the mountain, and I am the mountain. She not only decides when we are going to bed, but in what position. At 9:30 I am supposed to be lying on my side, on the edge of the bed with the quilt up to my chin. Anything else brings loud complaints. Have you ever met anyone who thinks his or her way is the only way? The Relief Society lesson for November is supposed to be chosen from the October conference talks. I remember, as a teenager being upset that the boys got to have their own session. Afterwards, they got to have a piece of pie. What secret things were they being told that we girls didn’t get to know about? I even remember driving down to the church one night to sit in the dark, under the open windows to listen to these special secrets. Well, there wasn’t anything special or different from the other sessions of conference. Now we can read or listen to the Priesthood session of conference a few days later. But I always make sure to read it, just in case. This year I read the address given by President Monson, “School Thy Feelings, Oh My Brother” Where he talked about anger and how it can affect our lives. He said, ”Many years ago I read the following Associated Press dispatch which appeared in the newspaper: An elderly man disclosed at the funeral of his brother, with whom he had shared, from early manhood, a small, one-room cabin near Canisteo, New York, that following a quarrel, they had divided the room in half with a chalk line, and neither had crossed the line or spoken a word to the other since that day—62 years before. Just think of the consequence of that anger. What a tragedy!” I remember that as a child, my sister and I had a disagreement. We too divided our room, and bed in half and said, “You can’t come over on my side!” It didn’t last very long because one of us couldn’t get out of the room, and the other one couldn’t put on any clothes. I have a cousin who told me once that there was so much anger and bad feelings in her family when they were growing up that it had taken her till she was 50 before she could even stand to be in the same house with them. I am so grateful that my sister and brothers and I have a loving relationship. They are my best friends. President Monson continued, “May we make a conscious decision, each time such a decision must be made, to refrain from anger and to leave unsaid the harsh and hurtful things we may be tempted to say.” I think many times when we are cut off in traffic or other times when someone hurts our feelings they are like my cat—They think they are king of the mountain and what they want is most important. My prayer is that we can be patient and forgiving and a good example. As the hymn says, “School thy feelings, O my brother; Train thy warm, impulsive soul. Do not its emotions smother, But let wisdom’s voice control. School thy feelings; there is power In the cool, collected mind. Passion shatters reason’s tower, Makes the clearest vision blind.” School Thy Feelings by Charles Penrose.
The flowers of spring Have all gone to sleep The leaves piling up In gutters so deep The night skies are cloudy and grey And I know It won’t be long now Before we have snow A November chill Dropped on us today I’m afraid that cold weather Will soon come to stay But do you remember? When getting older was fun? When thinking of winter Made us laugh and run?
I am a retired old woman trying to learn new things. I've decided that since my children are grown I would start some new adventures in life. So I moved across the country to a big city.
I'm blogging in hopes that someone will read and enjoy my writings. Next I'll get out the old paintbrush!
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