He was a turtle on the ocean run
When we first met. A slow moving walking
Armory filled with stories about
The good old days, until you wander
Into the waves and he glides away
Leaving his shadow on the sand as
Your gift to remember.
The picture of the turtle in this writing challenge is taken nose first. I included the link above so that you could visit it.
Better had you called her Mother, For mother she was before you stole Her every waking moment with your needs. She never minded the change that goes with: I need water, cookies, a story. I need soothing, aspirin, a cold pack. I have a broken dolly, truck, fix it, Someone hurt me, pushed me, my knee... My broken heart, my bank balance. My lost friend, my best friend gone, I'm alone. You were never alone, not you. She hovered over you even when you refused to see. Still she held you and gave you worth, forgiveness. Counsel given you, and some of hers from a lengthy speech You remember. You lust for more, but lack the patience Of saints from world's dust covered and ash filled. Mother finds a way, always she finds a way. My friends have, my sister has, my brother took. Return it, all of it to her, give her the life That she thought she would have, but you changed. She gave her all away, every drop: tears, smiles, cries. Still she sets the table, waiting for a call, a note. Cooks for your empty spot, carefully decorated table, Leaves a napkin to blot your lips or brow, a post card. Folded on the table, she keeps her dreams for you, The funds she gathered in pennies, for ice cream, notebooks... She gave you her dreamscapes to bear with you, Lush beautiful realms of the mind. Freedom. In place of your sorrow, a breeze for gladness. She healed you, scolded you, taught you, Worked to learn the math both new and old, So you could explain the new world to her. Mother, better had you called her Mother, Before she was labeled Martyr, as willingly You took away her smiles of you, to leave her Eyes in tears and heart in two.
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/martyr/
GUARD | STRANGE | RIVER | LAND | MIND The challenge is to use these five words in an original work of writing. I love these types of Challenges. It gives me words that I might not put together myself, to be used to create a picture in the mind. This poem is from a dreamer watching where dreams come from.
It was strange,
to see night fall from our dreams
bringing a river of light to bear,
drowning the moon without
insights into the mind
of the dreamer.
An unusual land, Dreams,
lacking the guards of civility while
blooming weeds the colors of
invention,
watching as they
fall into night’s place.
It was strange to see night fall
into our realities only to be resented
for being unique.
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/vanish/
Vanish from here, unworthy thoughts, Unburnished deeds, sad misconceptions. Vanish from here manipulative words, Harsh judges, unspoken times. Bring instead the laughter of children Raised on streets that cater to their steps, That cherish and rejoice in potential. Bring back the souls wrongfully taken, Before they were ripened by age and wisdom. Vanish from here, bitter pursing lips That refuse to speak what needs saying. Vanish here, and in your place, leave Society growing in flourishing in common cause.
Yesterday was my fifty-ninth birthday. It was also my happiest birthday, besides being born (thanks MOM).
My children decided that the best way to celebrate my birthday was to spend it with me. What mother could resist that? They have such busy adult lives that normally we have a brief conversation over the phone, a sandwich brought by so I don’t have to cook, or a pat on my head. Their lives are so busy that in past years they haven’t had time to affirm that I was getting grayer, or whiter, or that time was ticking past at a tremendous pace. But this year we had the hospital scare which mobilized both of my dears to become more involved in my life again. It was a lovely outcome to a scary time.
My day yesterday started with a breakfast wakeup call. My daughter and her husband had arrived with pancakes, eggs, hash browns, biscuits and bacon. They set the table and giving a cheer to bring us down the stairs, presented me with this feast. It took another call up the stairs to bring my husband down. My daughter used the “Dad, he’s poking me again” line which has become a family joke. My son came in and announced that his sister has surprised even him with the early morning roll call. He encouraged us all to eat and then to dress warmly because the day had just begun.
“Just begun?” Could it be that the day was just beginning? Normally weekends are days spent cleaning house, grocery shopping, and organizing for the next week. Taking time away from those things was unusual. Did they mean a game day? We have days when we invade each other’s territory to spend the day with unusual games that call out to us to play them. My son in law Chris was the one to encourage days like that, but this time, it was not what was intended.
I was ushered into the car, and we sped off after my daughter and Chris, at a respectable 35 miles an hour, strictly following the speed limit. There is a vendor of trees, each Christmas season, at the end of our neighborhood behind the Wawa convenience store and overlooking Neabsco Creek. Every year we wander to the vendor a day or two before Christmas and pick a tree that we hope will last into January. This year we were suddenly ahead of schedule. My son had given us a new TV for Christmas this year at Thanksgiving. Now the two kids had delivered a tree, an eight foot all Frazier Fir, and let me pick it out. We were twenty days ahead of schedule. Maybe, as Merlin thought in White’s A Once and Future King, we were moving backwards in time. No, we were moving forwards. The tree was placed in Chris’s truck as Derek opened his wallet exposing the tree fund to light and U.S. currency and homeward we went.
At this moment, door number two opened. Yes, we got the contents of door number one and two at the same time. Derek began pulling out the lights, not just for the tree, but for the entire house. Since he moved home, there has been a sense of normalization that he’s brought. Halloweens must be celebrated with decorations, and so too with Christmases. But as he set out to do the lights, Chris and my husband Eric set the tree into water, and Genevieve ushered me inside.
We always spend Christmas eve cleaning the family room of a year’s worth of crafting and lack of energy on my part by cleaning and getting the area ready for a tree. It can be a daunting task. Once we lacked the funds for a tree, and my kids went out into the backyard and brought back a bough from a white pine, with the perfect curl to it that would have fit in Jack Skeleton’s setting or Charlie Brown’s Christmas. They wrapped the bottom of the tree with a blue Linus blanket, and set one ornament on the tree at the pointy end of the only branch the tree had. Our dear friend Ana arrived on Christmas Day and added one additional ornament to the tree, a Charlie Brown Christmas ornament celebrating the simplicity of the season which is often overwhelming for me. Another time, the cleaning was finished at midnight, and the tree remained undecorated, but well loved. Christmas always arrived expected, but never quite prepared for, just like babies.
So I was convinced that my duty was to let people help me. Chris, Eric, Genevieve and I sorted, moved furniture, ran up and down stairs (I only handed things that needed to be relocated) and we achieved a new landmark. We had a clean tidy organized Christmas room early. We also had a ficus in the corner that now bears handmade ornaments that look like the ones that Grandma Boonie had on her tree. (Just a sign perhaps, but this Thanksgiving Genevieve, my mother, Laura and I created the ornaments to help us celebrate her life. My mother had also created ornaments using the same techniques that had decorated my parent’s trees. We never lacked for a love of Christmas, even when there was no money to be found.) So we used the ornaments we had made at Thanksgiving to decorate the ficus.
Off went Genevieve, Chris and Eric they soon had the tree in the stand. Derek and Eric brought the tree in the house lifting it over all of the things that hop out into the way when you want to transport something, successfully missing all of the obstacles, and the tree was placed along the west wall of the family room. Then began a call for directions to straighten the tree, which was amazingly close this year to true from the beginning, and we ran a relay of water so that the tree wouldn’t dry out.
Then we fell over, and Derek arrived with the ingredients for fancy grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. He had four types of cheese, including the American cheese that I get teased for my infatuation with, two types of sausages to be sliced and added to the cheese and Campbell’s Tomato soup. He whipped up dinner for us all, taking orders like the short order line cook at a good deli. By this time we had listened to Hamilton, the original soundtrack, Christmas swing music by the Glen Miller Orchestra, and we were ready for something to go with a quick meal. So out came The Grinch, which has my father in law in it, just check the section of the first singalong where the Who wearing the glasses and the trimmed beard is shown, followed by Charlie Brown’s Christmas. That gave us enough to time recover our blood sugar levels and the lights arrived for the tree.
Genevieve has taken over that job. Her dad used to do it, but with his schedule giving him less time to do it in, he had to pass that tradition on. Derek has done it several times, but he was still finishing the outside of the house. We run a string or two of lights up the middle of the tree, generally using the largest bulbs we can find, and cabling several light strings together until we have fully lighted strings to use. Then we swirl small lights around the tree. Each year we put together the leftovers of the years before until we arrive at the tree lights we think of as perfection. The pineapple ornament, the symbol of hospitality, goes on the very top, and this year has two 9 inch ornamental angels in full gold and white dress, holding candles (fake candles, the ones using electricity) are directly underneath the pineapple. It almost looks like the beginning of an angelic chorus. As we added ornaments, the tree opened up beautifully. I decorate the inside of the tree as much as the outside. It’s always amazing to me how many ornaments a tree can hold.
We put in twelve hours of getting ready for Christmas on my birthday. It’s not many people who can say they have been given Christmas as a birthday present, but I can say that. I was exhausted but really happy by evening. When my daughter and Chris had left for home, and Derek had gone to get ready for bed, Eric and I sat and watched the tree. He remarked that we “have some great kids”, and I added “and they are remarkable adults.” He asked if I was happy and I am. I’m also really proud that they recognize that time with them is the most important gift I could have been given. Christmas as a present gave them a way to show how much they cared and let us share a lot of memories. And, it’s not even Christmas yet.
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/photo-challenges/relax/
Relax, but be vigilant. This is warmth in the sun, Cool in the water, Danger in the depths. Your mother warned You about days like this. Where the happiness in your Heart reaches out to others. You can't resist this moment. Relax, but be vigilant, Life is happening.
Cee’s Which Way Photo Challenge – November 30, 2016
Rainbows at sunset, roads to follow. Lined with flowers, cars and noise, In capitols, in the wild, in back, The alleyways, the secret ways, How do we know where to tread lightly? When should our feet pound the pavement And fight the oppression that takes The middle class and the poor from us? We celebrate the shiny, fountain sprinkling Water that gives us a drink of hope, Then take our place, eyes down Shuffling along as we try to Keep the noise down so the neighbors Don't complain. Is this the road of The future? I step outside and look up At the soaring bald eagles who were once Endangered. Their flyways are now healthier. Our roadways should be healthier, broader, Wiser, a step firm with resolve, a hand On the wheel, a place to arrive at. Soon.
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/photo-challenges/time-of-year/
Can I do without your call? Making arrangements to survive, To ignore the rest of strife, freely given. Can I do without your song? The snow arrived unasked, unsummoned, With the feeders empty and promises, also. Can I do without your cheer? Here in the gray land of between, Where the silver bells of registers Ring the advent of poverty, competition, Fool hardy expectations of man, not beast. Here I find you, still cheerful, still singing, Your small talons grasping at the dirt, Looking for that last pillbug, that last seed. Your flock only humors me, As the camera whirls, clicks, spits and spats, leaving talon prints as they settle for the night in snow. They wait, they linger until sure That the warmth of yesterday is gone And the time to fly free and warm has arrived. I cannot live without your song, Your calling out of peace and forgiveness All for the price of a seed or two. I cannot live without the holly trees, The magnolias that decorate with red seeds, The pines silent except between creaks of wind. I need your cheer of simplicity.
Cee’s Odd Ball Photo Challenge: 2016 Week 47
When the band has the blues,
When the night burns florescent,
Then time collects in pockets
Of memories, greeted with toasts.
Proffered feasts fading into the
Jazz heated spirals of sax,
Yes, sax, and trombone glissandos
As time burns through the bar
As patrons slide to the floor
Melting into the hot blue night.
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/anticipation/
While much of the world talks about gratitude, we in the U.S. find ourselves dealing with “anticipation” as the world shakes and turns around us. What’s going to happen in our future? Where will the next shoe drop? What happens if so and so does such and such? And then the political elbows appear to dog us back into our perimeters of uncertainty and our place at the bottom of the totem. Personally, I am tired of elbows being thrown to show who is the authoritarian expert on life itself and am ready to start throwing my elbows around. However that would be tiresome, and tiresome isn’t who I am.
I’d like to anticipate a broad future for us all, but I just don’t have it in me today. So I’ll simplify the anticipation of what I’m anticipating to what it means personally and shake out my brain’s rafters a bit.
We will survive to retire. We weren’t sure of this before, but as we get closer, well, the anticipation is thick with us. (Sorry Yoda.)
I think that I will develop a broader anticipation of what is coming in the immediate future if I am patient and stick to my value system. Kids always amaze me and give me hope. As I watch this next generation grow, I’ll learn which direction we’re headed in and then can focus my anticipation list better. I’d certainly like to become hopeful on a global scale. I’d better go back and look that that gratitude thing, too. Maybe it will allow me to anticipate some really good things in a new light.
Ann WJ White 