Poem Away Clarity Pyramid

BOX

carton

container

children playing house

sailors sailing their ship

rolling down a hill in one

“imagination’s tool for play”

Poem Away Canopus

Times Past

I traveled far to Scotland, Ireland too—

The rolling hills, the sheep, the walls of stones.

From castles I took in a sweeping view,

And gazed on ancient graves of the unknowns.

I reveled in ancestral lands of past.

Took in nostalgic and enchanting tones,

And pondered on how lives on earth don’t last.  

Poem Away busta sonetto

Life of a Nation

‘Neath English rule America grew strong

And like a growing fetus needs more room

America desired to be free

No more content to be in England’s womb

Like labor, war became severe and long

And so at last when victory was won

America now toddled on its own

The founding fathers prayed consistently

For God to intervene and set the tone

So soon it learned to walk and leap and run

But now the aging land can feel its pains  

With wrinkle, sags, and bags around the eyes

Determined to grow strong again and wise

Let’s simply pray that God will take the reins

Poem Away Blues Sonnet

Battle Won

O Lord, obeying You means to be free.

O Lord, obeying You means to be free.

I thank You for the opportunity.

But it is easier said than done, Lord.

But it is easier said than done, Lord.

At times, the wants of flesh can’t be ignored.

I need Your grace to help me in my plight.

I need Your grace to help me in my plight.

To do less wrong and more of what is right.

Your word says we’re not justified by deeds.

Your word says we’re not  justified by deeds.

It’s faith in Christ that will fulfill our needs.

Thank You that Jesus is my righteousness.

In Him, I’m free indeed and truly blessed.

PA ex, acrostic

Jesus

J esus

E xalted One

S avior

U nderstanding, loving, forgiving, merciful

S ing His praises

PA Ex

Excited

E nthusiastic, to say the least.

eX tremely happy, call for a feast.

C onfident and eager, having a ball. Absolutely not

I ndifferent at all. Animated and

T hrilled beyond degree.

E nergized and

D riven—nope, not me.

PA Notice

Unnoticed

She works hard at becoming invisible,

Yet, feels surprise when no one sees her.

Her silence renders her disguisable.

She works hard at becoming invisible.

A new wardrobe would be advisable.

She serves as a self-saboteur.

She works hard at becoming invisible,

Yet, feels surprised when no one sees her.

PA generations

Curiosity

Maybe it’s because we too often hear the adage, “Curiosity killed the cat,” that the average person suffers from a terrible lack of curiosity, when it comes to their lineage. How many of us know much about our ancestors past two or three generations?

Ancestors years past

I wonder about them now

Their loves, trials and dreams

In Scotland, I listened to the wistful tone of a bagpipe and remembered how my maternal grandfather loved to hear them. I watched a genuine shepherd command his dogs, each one eagerly waiting for his own signal.

To the whistle blast

The dog leaps into action

Joyful in purpose

I stood by the bonny, bonny banks of Loch Lomond as the song “You Take the High Road” describes and wondered if perhaps my great, great, great grandparents fell in love there. I could picture them, laughing, as they rowed their little wooden boat.

Echoes of the past

Ripple across gray waters

I smile for photo

In Ireland, my niece and I strolled along the River Shannon which bears my maiden name. The County Clare most likely nurtured my father’s side. Did they fish along the river? Did they hunt the green hills? Were they part of the many who dug the rocks out of stubborn soil and built those countless walls?

The River Shannon

Flowing along through the years

Withholding secrets

It’s odd to think that in a couple generations I will be forgotten. No one will know my joys, sorrows, quirks. They might have a vague idea they had a poet in the family.

My dad’s diary

I eagerly opened it

To find the weather

Let’s leave our loved ones stories so when curiosity catches up with them they’ll be satisfied.

They’ll read my journal

But what will they discover?

Daily to-do lists?

Travel jnl Inverness Scotland

I Left My Heart

Tony Bennett crooned

I left my heart in San Francisco

and maybe I should sing

I left my heart in Inverness.

I don’t know what it was about the place

that made me want to unpack and stay.

The river, the bridges, the old buildings,

the castles, the churches, the ancient places,

the greenery, the friendliness, the lochs,

the history, the cleanliness, the shopping,

the closeness to Loch Ness, the Highlands,

the Culloden Battlefield, the Clava Cairns.

I didn’t visit long enough

to make the decision to move there,

but I wanted to just the same.

Travel jnl Boston airport

Odd Feeling

I have an odd feeling

I’m in the wrong place.

Sitting here at the airport.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

Once, I almost missed

my plane in Durango.

I forgot a whole other section

to that small airport.

After waiting four hours

I hope I’m not running around

to undo something stupid

I’m doing now.

Lord, help me get on the right plane

at the right time.

Not just literally,

but figuratively as well.

Travel jnl Aran Islands

Growing Rock Walls

I always liked rocks.

Solid. Substantial.

Natural.

You can always count on a rock.

Too bad I wasn’t born in the Aran Islands.

They had so many rocks,

they couldn’t grow anything.

So they grew rock walls.

I can imagine Papa digging the rocks.

Mama designing the walls.

Patrick and Nelly helping haul

stone after stone.

The walls protected the soil.

Seaweed maintained moisture.

Wall by wall, little plots of land became fertile

or kept in horses, sheep and cattle.

We wander through stone-wall labyrinths,

in awe, snapping pictures,

saying hello to a work horse

or disinterested cow.

If you stretched out all the stone walls,

they’d encircle the islands a couple times.

I like rocks, but maybe I would tire of them

if I was born in the Aran Islands.

Travel Jnl Near LImerick

 The Fairy Gardens

A plethora of flowers,

fairies and waterfalls

lined the shady paths.

Everywhere you turned,

a new picture

begged to be taken.

A princess slept

in her hidden home

while a lullaby played.

Two lions guarded an entrance.

A quaint bench sat among ferns and vines.

Statues of a boy and girl discovering fairies.

Gargoyles

A crystal wishing ball

Tiny village scenes

Making even adults delight in magic

Travel Jnl Clare County Ireland

Hallowed Ground

At the friary ruins

there were enough

steps, walls, windows

to imagine friars

going about their holy business

in the hallowed halls.

But the family within—

smoking, playing ball,

crying for mama

and leaving a lunchtime mess

showed disrespect.

I left, saddened and a bit irritated.

Travel Jnl Ireland

Church spire

Silhouetted

Gray twilight cloud background

Holding centuries of worship

Ireland

Travel jnl Killarney, Ireland

Metamorphosis 

Not a lot of swimming

going on in Ireland.

Few pools. Many beaches,

but water’s too cold.

When my niece and I went kayaking,

the tour guide

insisted we wear wet suits

in case we fell in the bay.

So we changed

in the nearby castle restroom.

I squirmed and squiggled

and pulled and tugged.

If it wasn’t for her

pulling and tugging, too,

while I jumped around,

I would have never gotten into it.

I didn’t fall in the ocean,

so all that work was for naught.

After kayaking, it took some doing

till I finally freed myself of the thing,

like a butterfly shedding its cocoon.

Now, at least, when I swim at the city pool

I won’t feel so self-conscious

after seeing what I look like in a wet suit.

Travel jnl County Cork

Mitchelstown Caves

Dark

Damp

Down, down, down

250 feet

Electric lit

Browns and creams

Without light-

Blacker than black

Uneven stairs

Low railings

High ceilings

Amazing

Stalactites

Stalagmites

Curtains

Pillars

Old lady

Pig

Elephant

Bearded man

Caverns

Stage with good acoustics

Audience

Up, up, up

Breathless

Wish we could

explore its

secret parts.

Travel jnl Ireland

My Niece

Almost thirty,

she drives along,

twiddling her hair

like she did when she

was a little girl.

Now, she’s graduated

to designated driver

for two worried aunts,

not brave enough

to drive on the left.

Travel journal Pitlochry Scotland

Potential

Heather-speckled Scotland hillside.

Someone figured out

how to harvest heather.

Dry it.

Shotblast it.

Dye it.

Compress it.

Cut it.

Shape it.

File it.

Sand it.  

Lacquer it.

Turn it into a beautiful jewelry.

It makes me wonder

what worthless stuff

is lying around,

waiting to be

spun into gold.

Travel Journal Ireland

Castle

I can imagine being a child,

running down corridors,

hiding in nooks and crannies

scrambling up and down spiral stairways

and scurrying along in dark passageways

to evade pursuers,

be they friends, siblings

or mum calling bath time.

What fun it would be!

Travel Journal Ireland

Green hills and trees

Farmland dotted with cows

The Emerald Isle

Travel Journal leaving Dublin

UK Driving

It’s weird sitting in the back seat

watching my sister in the left front

with head bent rifling through her purse.

Just when my heart starts to race,

I remember the driver is on the right side.

Travel journal Dublin

Trinity College

The book of Kales was amazing,

with ancient pages,

detailed designs

and Biblical text,

but this Masterpiece

wasn’t what made it worth

standing in a long queue

and paying fourteen euros.

It was the library,

floor to ceiling

with ancient books

and busts of famous authors

like Swift, Plato, and Aristotle,

plus a priceless early century harp.

I felt smarter

just standing there gawking.

PA prompt comprehensive

Comprehensive Traveling

Wishing there really

was an all inclusive

tour package,

including tips,

tickets, and souvenirs.

trip journal

Robert the Bruce

His statue stands boldly

under gray skies

on a cold, windy hill,

much as he must have

in the thirteen hundreds

as he and his men

bravely fought for Scotland

against British numbers

greater than theirs.

Scotlanders remember him

with a monument and poem.

What would he think of that?

Trip journal

Dinner at Winnock Hotel, Scotland

We sat next to a couple,

the end four of a long table

which seated our tour group.

We four ordered soup.

The guy next to me quipped,

“Hey, we’re the soup group!”

trip journaling

Nocturnal Meeting

Our first night in Dublin

my sister tossed and turned,

muttering intelligible words

until I heard fairly clearly,

“Oh, hi, how are you!”

said with enthusiasm.

Whom she was so glad to meet,

I’ll always wonder.

PA reservation, trip journaling

Hotel Reservation

The check in time at the hotel,

we reserved was not until three,

but we arrived in Dublin at five AM.

So we went to the hotel anyway, hoping

we could at least store our bags there

while we wandered around town.

But lo and behold, it was ready,

even to the desk clerk’s surprise.

So we slept in comfort all morning,

ate a slightly over-priced lunch,

turned down raw salmon and ate

what they called a ham sandwich,

but to me it was more like bacon,

and wandered around in the rain,

shopping till we about dropped

and found our way back to our hotel.