Poetic Bloomings wind

Catching Leaves

The wind would whisk the leaves about

On chilly autumn days

We kids would chase them with a shout

Looked like a dancing craze

I also loved the vibrant sound

The wind would make through trees

Our feet would keep time on the ground

As leaves would tempt and tease

Sometimes they’d flit just out of reach

And we would leap and grab

And then we’d yell and squeal and screech  

Until the leaves, we’d nab

Poetic Bloomings orange

Only Fourteen

When I was fourteen, I loved orange.

I painted my bedroom tangerine.

When I was fourteen, I also loved

a seventeen-year-old  guy named Drew.

Every day of my fourteenth year,

Mom said, “You’re only fourteen!”

at least two or three times.

I didn’t think I’d ever reach fifteen.

Because of my love for orange, Drew and I

painted his MGB orange but didn’t wear masks.

For about a week, we blew orange into tissues.

Our relationship lasted on and off for four years.

After his dad died, we painted his living room orange.

I celebrated such abundance of orange.

I would have been happy if the whole world

was monochromatic in shades of orange.

I guess you can say I saw everything

through orange-colored glasses.

Even to this day, the color orange

reminds me of those teen years.

And I often think, “I was only fourteen.”

Poetic Bloomings cornucopia

Perspective

When we were little,

our teachers would decorate

walls and windows with

pictures of horn-shaped baskets,

filled with fruit and vegetables

and talked about how early Americans

celebrated such abundance.

That seemed ho-hum to me.

But a basket filled with

cookies, cakes, candy bars,

puddings, peanut brittle,

chocolates, and apple pie,

now, that would definitely

be worth celebrating!

Poetic Asides Ecstatic

Ecstatic

E nergetically

C elebrating

S ituations

T alents

A nd

T reasures

I n

C ircles

Poetic Bloomings Leaf

Leaving

In the country neighborhood where I grew up,

we cousins and friends would rake leaf piles

and have a grand old time leaping into them.

Or we would gather some leaves to slip under

a piece of white paper and rub crayons across

it to make a leaf design, being sure to rub

the thick stems and pronounced veins.

Or we’d press some between wax paper

until the walls were overrun with them.

After we moved away, when Mom would find

a startling colorful leaf, she’d seal it in plastic

and tuck her creations in her letters inciting us

to  homesickness and to travel the 2,ooo miles

back home to Pennsylvania, grandkids in tow.

We figured that was her motivation all along.

Poetic Bloomings Fire

One Last Cookout

In the country neighborhood,

where I grew up, we were

mostly relatives along with

 some long-time friends.

When fall colors, crisp air and smells

would cast on us their fallish spells,

we would almost in unison decide

it was time for one last wiener roast.

We kids would run to the woods

to cut marshmallow and wiener sticks,

while moms would cook goodies

and dads would build the camp fire.

We’d all gather at one of our homes

and spend the evening eating

playing games and toasting hotdogs

and marshmallows on the campfire.

And when the fire would burn low,

and we sang all the songs we knew,

and our fingers and noses were cold,

we’d call it a night, tired and content.

poetic blooming autumn smells, triolet

Swishing and Scrunching

We scrunched fall leaves beneath our feet,

delighting in old, earthy smells.

Leaf swishing, whiffing such a treat,

we scrunched fall leaves beneath our feet.

The pungent smells could not be beat.

Would cast on us their fallish spells.

We scrunched fall leaves beneath our feet,

delighting in old, earthy smells.

Poem Away

Winter Playing Chase

When cold outside,
Wind whistled past our ears.
Head down, we quickened our short stride.
Our cheeks stung and we blinked away our tears.
Clouds hid the sun.
Leaves scrunched beneath our feet.
Was almost time for winter fun.
Yes, autumns in bright colors’ full retreat
And winter’s snow played chase.
And winter’s snow played chase.

Poem Away Spanish and from my devo

In Search of My New Normal

I no longer host two clients with developmental disabilities,

giving me more time.

I graduated from completing my college degree,

giving me more time.

I have been staying home more,

giving me more time.

Sometimes I think God has given me an empty plate.  

Now  I can travel more.
Now I can learn Spanish. 

Now I can finish those books I started reading.

Now I can get back to my writing.

Now I can organize all of my poems.

Now I can take new writing courses.

Now I can participate in an exercise program.

Now I can cook nutritious meals.

Now I can catch up on the housework I’ve neglected.

Now I can do all those photography projects I’ve been postponing.

Now I can finally put a yard in and paint my living room door.

Now I can study the Bible more.

Now I can be more involved in church.

Now I can learn to play the ukulele, draw and paint more.

Now I care for my hubby, a two-time stroke survivor.

Now I deal with health issues of my own.

Now I have to figure out how to earn an income.

All of a sudden my empty plate is stacked like one at a Baptist potluck.

So I take a bite at a time,

trusting God that I will eventually find my new normal.

disobedient limerick

There was once a girl from the ‘hood

That wouldn’t do what she should

They told her to stay

But she ran away

So now she is lost for good

Poem Away Decathion, Poetic Asides disobedient

Jonah

The prophet Jonah heard God’s voice

to preach to Ninevites one day.

He thought, no way!

He headed for Tarshish by ship.

He made his choice.

So God sent stormy, violent waves.

Men tossed him out for God to save.

In fish, he’d pray.

The fish spit him out so Jonah did preach.      

And showed no sinner was out of Love’s reach.

Poem Away Decuain

Obeying a Wise and Loving God

A wise God wants you to obey Him, now.

He loves you more than you can understand.

His love and wisdom guide what He’ll allow.

A hopeful future is what He has planned.

Those ways that hurt you are what He has banned.

Like parents lead their kids to solid ground,

He keeps you on the rock, not sinking sand.

In God, through Jesus, peace and joy are found.

He sets you free from things that have you bound.

Eternal promises are glory crowned.

Poem Away, Decanelle, Q

The Night Sky

How quietly the night arrives,

Much like an elegant queen.

With quintessential moon and stars,

Lighting quite a lovely scene.

“No one could quarrel on such a night,”

A romantic quipped most keen.

And even quarter moons deserve

An appreciative quote.

“The sky has a smile that won’t quit,”

A quirky old poet wrote.

Poetic Bloomings Saving

Saving Blessings

When it seems I’ve done nothing

In my life from day to day

Just the same old to-do list

Sun-up till I hit the hay

I look into my journal

to read what I have saved there

I see that I’ve been busy

And that God does hear my prayer

I savor those special times

Which come as God’s surprises

Some are very plain to see

And some come in disguises

A missed appointment gives time

To chat with a special friend

A nap gives me energy

To bring projects to an end

I highlight in my journal

All the things I’m thankful for

So when depression tempts me

I show it what I have stored

Poem Away Cyclone

Cyclone

All alone

Bombarded by a cyclone

of accusations.

You’re so stupid.

You’ll never get things right.

You’re selfish and self-centered to boot.

But along comes the wind of the Holy Spirit,

Comforting, caressing, guiding

And the cyclone dissipates.

Poem Away

Waiting for Vacation

When you watch water

go out of a bathtub,

it barely moves.

It creeps slowly.

Faster.

Whirls.

Whoosh!

Gone!

Poetic Bloomings Tanaga

Transitioning

My life now is like a ball

Not the formal dance and all

But like one of tangled yarn

One used to crochet or darn

I hate to whine and cavil

But it’s hard to unravel

I cannot find either end

Or from which side to contend

I don’t know where to begin

I start, stop and start again

My life seems so ajumble

I just scramble and fumble

I have many things to do

What’s important, have no clue

When that’s found, I’ve no desire

The must-dos put out my fire

But one thing I know today

Whether I work, nap or play

Whether tasks bore or excite

A poem, I can always write

Poetic Blooming Tanaga

Spinning Wheel

My days are a spinning wheel,

so dizzying is the feel.

Old rhyme—Round and round she goes.

Where she stops, nobody knows.

But He knows the beginning

and the end, who is sinning

and who is not. He loves us

just the way we are. Why fuss

about days going around?

In Him, promises are found.

When this life reaches its end,

we count on Jesus, our friend.

In Christ, we are forgiven,

so we can go on livin’.

Round and round and fast or slow,

with love, joy and peace in tow.

Poem Away amphion

Brain Fog

Sometimes it seems brain fog

blocks out Your voice.

I have no choice,

but vegetate in bog.

Now, I’m awake.

For goodness sake,

please, grant me ears to hear.

And draw me close.

I need You most.

In You, I have no fear,

Poetic Asides Rondine

Autumn Rain

Autumn rain pours down my windshield,

As wipers go swishity-swish.

This weather’s best for duck or fish.

View has changed, with the sun concealed.

Golds, greens, oranges, reds blur afield.

Fall leaves turn watercolor-ish.

Autumn rain

Through mist and rain, my eyes are peeled.

Under tires goes splash and squish.

To not hydroplane—what I wish.

Through moisture, arid land is healed.

Autumn Rain

Poetic Asides Tragic

Tragic Regrets

He sits there in his wheelchair with head bowed,

Hands folded acr0ss lap, ankle on knee.

Eyes closed, he breathes deeply while he dozes.

Eating breakfast took long (hard to swallow).

Men like him line retirement home hallways.

He sits there in his wheelchair with head bowed.

Today he said God left him here for me.

That thought makes me feel a little guilty.

I know he’d rather romp on golden streets,

Where he could run, walk, sing and  talk clearly.

He sits there in his wheelchair with head bowed,

Wishing he’d go back two summers ago.

Then he would follow a nurse’s advice,

Go to the doc’s and get blood pressure checked.

Perhaps he could have avoided two strokes.

He sits there in his wheelchair with head bowed.

Poem Away Brady's Touch

Valued

God showed His kindness through Jesus Christ.

King, but rubbed elbows with commoners.

Yes, He keeps us all in His care.

His love cuts through hate like a knife.

Kicks sin.

High as a kite in spring, we were priced.

Not just a keepsake, but we’re preferred.

Adored more than a pet kitten.

Jesus was killed to give us life.

We’re kin.

Poem Away Curtal Sonnet

Autumn Fun

The mornings have grown colder here and now,

But afternoons glow gold and red in sun.

The air is crisp and with a wisp of fall.

The color drives inspire heartfelt Wow!

We’re ready for some awesome autumn fun.

The costumed children play and have a ball.

Adults enjoy some cider and some pie,

While jack-o-lanterns grin until they’re done.

The trick-or-treaters come  home with their haul.

And crash in bed with long and happy sigh.  

The autumns hold activities for all.

Poetic Bloomings Fall

Autumns of Childhood

When young, we played outdoors—snow, rain or shine.

Somehow despite all weather, we felt fine.

We loved the summer days and all the rest.

But autumns in bright colors were the best.

In winters, we’d build snowmen and we’d sled.

We’d play in our snow forts till time for bed.

We had snow fights. In layers we were dressed.

But autumns in bright colors were the best.

In springtime, we would ride our bikes with glee.

And splash in puddles, oh-so merrily.

We watched for the first robin with red breast.

But autumns in bright colors were the best.

In summers, we would wade around in creeks.

We’d run without our shoes for many weeks.

Our stamina-adults were most impressed.

But autumns in bright colors were the best.

In autumn, we raked leaves and jumped in piles.

We gathered nuts and biked the country miles.

With tangy air and apples, we felt blessed.

Yes, autumn in bright colors were the best.