Monday, November 23, 2009



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,
Made me.

Lydia's words

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
How's the new program going?
How did your day go?
How many children came?
Did they enjoy the game?
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


~T~ said...

Was Lydia one of the strangers? I enjoy her words, and the others, too!

gwenshere said...

I'm a dictionary person too. I love grandpa's old set of encyclopedias a lot also. Lydia is a relative of cousin Caran.