Galveston/Mesa Trip Day 14, Keep Blank Poetic Asides

 Keep Grinning

Day 14 Galveston/Mesa Trip

 

We keep playing cards,

Score sheets by the yards,

And my daughter keeps winning.

Canasta—great game.

Only few I claim.

Even so, I keep grinning.

Galveston/Mesa Trip Day 13

 Day 13 Galveston/Mesa trip

 

Like a plucked chicken

Will his hair thicken?

My smart son cut his own hair

With holes in his shirt

He dared go to work

I wish that he’d show more care

Galveston/Mesa trip Day 12 Poetic Bloomings front or back

 Day 12 Galveston/Mesa Trip 

 

Halfway Point

 

Just out the front door

Two blocks and no more

The ocean waited each day

‘Neath the umbrella

Peaceful I tell ya

Yes, we would have liked to stay

 

Now back with my three

My own family

In Arizona a while

We’ll eat and we’ll play

Maybe work each day

Then go back home with a smile

Galveston/ Mesa trip Day 11

 Day 11 Galveston/Mesa Trip  

 

It’s been a long day

There’s not much to say

Flew out of Houston at noon

Eli came, no doubt

And then we ate out

Texas trip over too soon

Galveston/Mesa Trip Day 10

 Day 10 Galveston/Mesa Trip 

 

Galveston,  good bye

Houston with a sigh

We had a nice Uber ride

So where do we eat?

Won’t admit defeat

So Dominoes with a side

Galveston/ Mesa Trip Day 9, spring, Poetic Asides

 Day 9 Galveston/Mesa Trip 

 

What a crazy spring!

We’re vacationing,

Sis and I, in Galveston. 

At home, there is snow.

Now, Sis broke her toe.

Oh well, we’re still having fun.

Galveston/ Mesa trip Day 8

 Day 8 

 

Octopuses, rays

Sea creatures amaze

Balmy rainforest go through

Yes, it sounds absurd

Hit by large blue bird

Moody Gardens, lots to do

Galveston/Mesa trip Day 7

 Day 7

Ubered to downtown

Shopped art all around

Ate a yummy lunch of fish

Went on dolphin watch

The day was top notch

Napped then had a chicken dish

Galveston/Mesa trip Day 6

 Day 6  

 

The host of this place

With kindness and grace

Gave us a Galveston tour

And then we ate lunch

And walked a whole bunch

Went home and had a good snore

Beauty, Poetic Bloomings, Galveston/Mesa trip

 What a Beautiful Day

 

With backs against the sun and wind

We watch the churning waves come in

And out and in and out again

What a beautiful day

 

A baby barely walking plays

And builds sandcastles ‘neath the rays

While Mama laughs nearby and stays

What a beautiful day

 

Some children dig with scoops and pails

To sail toy boats with tiny sails

Sea water spills in silver trails

What a beautiful day

 

Jumping in waves, some older kids

Teen girls stack up in pyramids

While gulls drown out the katydids 

What a beautiful day

 

Colorful kites dance in the air

The wind musses my messy hair

The dolphins roll to breathe out there

What a beautiful day

 

Nearby a roller coaster screams

And families play to ocean themes

While Sis and I live out our dreams

What a beautiful day

 

Galveston/Mesa trip Day 5

 Day 5 

 

We walked to Murdochs  

For several blocks

We shopped, sat, and viewed the sea

We bought souvenirs

For all of our dears

Then lazed in the sun for free

Galveston/Mesa Trip Day 4

 

A Little Rough Today

 

Nightmares ruined sleep

Woke up in a heap

Took a while to get going

Ate at a buffet

Shopped Walmart today

Sat on beach, wind was blowing

Galveston/Mesa trip Day 3

 

Well Rested

 

Slept eleven hours

Then we took showers

Ate, then we walked to the beach

I waded the shore

Took photos galore

Then soup and salad for each

Galveston/Mesa Trip Day 2

Day 2

Seaside Bliss

 

Up at three AM

To airport again

We’re safe in Galveston now

Together with Sis,

We have seaside bliss,

but we’re very tired—and how!

Rant Poetic Asides

 Computer Blues

 

It did yesterday.

Now, it won’t obey.

Puts words where they don’t belong.

Can’t get it to work.

I’m going berserk.

Singing computer blues song.

Galveston/Mesa trip Day 1

 Day One of Galveston trip-to Mesa

 

Had an early start

Nine, we did depart

Fine weather with clouds above

Quite foggy on top

Not enough to stop

Our kids greeted us with love

Pre trip poems

 

One More Day

 

Worked with kids today

We’ll be on our way

Filled tires, got oil changed

Stuffed suitcases full

May be hard to pull

They need to be rearranged

Pre-trip poems

 Two More Days

 

Make lists, check them twice

The weather looks nice  

Take out trash, stop at the bank

A walk in the park

Get done before dark

Put air in tires, fill tank

Pre-Trip Poems Alouette

 Three More Days

 

We’ll leave in three days

“Lord willing,” James says

I make my long to-do list

Check off one by one

Some errands to run

But is there something I missed?

Light Poetic Bloomings

 City Lights

 

My husband and I

used to drive  

from Wheatland,

a small town in Wyoming

to Cheyenne

where my husband’s family lives.

 

After about an hour of darkness,

we’d start seeing the lights of Cheyenne.

It felt welcoming, even hopeful.

Leaving the barren land in the night,

we’d soon be greeted by warm smiles.

 

When I see the stars

in the pitch-black sky,

I think of Heaven.

Welcoming light

Warm smiles

Hopeful.

lost Poetic Asides

 

Venice

 

What do you think of when you hear the name Venice? Romance? Beauty? Riding along in gondolas while the gondolier sings Italian tunes? That’s what I thought of before visiting there in a rain storm. During our tour, we had “free time” when you go out and explore on your own. Since, for me “free time” was code for getting lost, I latched onto a kindly couple, with memorable names Mark and Mindy, and they graciously allowed me to follow them around. Sis wisely stayed in the hotel that day. The gondolas were grounded. We paid 30 euros to tour a palace. We thought it worth it since it was warm and dry inside. But getting out was a trick. It took us a while to find the exit and it was almost time to catch the ferry. So when I think of Venice, I think of running and sloshing through ankle-deep water, through rain and wind, holding my umbrella in front of me so the wind wouldn’t catch it and causes it to explode like it did with Mark’s. Mark ran ahead of us to tell the tour guide we were on our way. Mindy ran behind me making sure I didn’t get lost. And we made it to the ferry. Ironically, when we got off, I followed someone else to the bus and Mark and Mindy got lost, but the tour guide retrieved them.

 

My dreams of Venice

Turned somewhat of a nightmare

But grand adventure  

 

 

 

 

in like a lamb Poetic Bloomings

 Spring Break

 

This winter behaved like a lamb,

A snow or two but quickly passed.

I love the sunshine and warm days.

It made the winter go by fast.

 

But winter isn’t over yet.

Was the cold, white stuff just postponed?

The wind is kicking up a notch.

Last night, it whistled, groaned and moaned.

 

Next Wednesday, I’ll be headed south,

So over mountains, we will roam.

I’m hoping winter stays a lamb,

At least, until we come back home.

 

My sis and I head towards the beach,

On the island of Galveston.

We’re going over the spring break,

And aiming to have lots of fun.

 

When I come back to my home state,

Will winter leave with lion’s roar?

It will not matter much to me,

Just so I’m safe behind my door.

math Poetic Asides

 

Lots of Words

 

A poem a day, for 20 years

Average about 100 words a poem

That’s about 730,000 words.

 

About 20 novellas in various stages of completions

Roughly 800,000 words.

 

Five to ten devotions a month for twelve years

Say about 7 times 144 times 250 words

About 252, 000 words.

 

Total 1,782,000 words

 

Plus an inestimable amount of words

in short stories, articles, and journaling.

Not to mention all of the rewrites.

 

I don’t think I’d be wrong in saying

that writing is my profession,

even if few have ever heard of me

and I would make more working at Wal-Mart.

endless Poetic Bloomings 2

 

The getting up

The laying down

The round and round and round and round

Seems endless

Till it isn’t.

endless Poetic Bloomings

 

Chores

 

The endless dishes in the sink

The bathrooms that begin to stink

And someone spilled their cherry drink

Chores are endless

 

The dust that settles everywhere

The tile that has no shine or glare

The fridge with something growing there

Chores are endless

 

The shaggy carpet with its crumbs

The wilting plants despite green thumbs

It’s almost time to plant the Mums

Chores are endless

 

But didn’t we just cook a meal?

And opaque windows—What a deal!

What’s said about the squeaky wheel?

Chores are endless

Home Poetic Asides

 Home

 

Home is where the toothbrush is.

That’s what I always say.

That’s because I’ve had so many homes

All along my way.

 

Home in PA where I grew up,

Home at college at UPJ,

Home in Cheyenne where I met hubby,

Home with my sister, Nebraska way,

 

Home in Wyoming, our first year,

Home in Craig where was born our first.

The coldest place we ever lived,

That winter was the worst.

 

Home in Dolores Trailer park,

Home on sixteen acres of land,

Home in Kemmerer, Wyoming,

When hubby took a job at hand.

 

The same for the home in Denver,

He worked on the new highway.

Then home in southwest Colorado,

Where we decided to stay.

 

But no matter where we live,

No matter where we roam,

We are just passing through.

Heaven is our Home.

out my window Poetic Bloomings

 

In My Backyard

 

It’s Mid-February, and I thought winter

had grown senile and forgotten all about us

in Southwest Colorado.

 

But as I look out the back,

snow sparkles and shadows fill the pockets

where the snow has melted a bit.

 

The birds, disappointed

at the empty birdfeeder,

fly off in search of food.

 

The north side bushes,

still huddled beneath their burden,

must envy those on the sunny side.

 

The maple tree stands tall and bare

resolutely waiting for warmer weather

and a new green wardrobe.

 

As the sun brightens my backyard,

I wonder if this was the first and last snow,

with springtime just around the corner.

 

But knowing Colorado, I’m sure,

winter still has tricks up its sleeves,

senile or not.  

Valentine Poetic Asides

 A Special Valentine

 

I woke up yesterday and felt soul-drained.

I did not know if I had strength to work.

How could I be with kids when foggy-brained?

And those sweet ones can drive me clear berserk.

 

In morning quiet time, I said a prayer,

To be a light though I felt very dim.

To somehow show the children that I care,

Then I entrusted my day unto Him.

 

At Nature Center, we exchanged our names.

We learned I got LeAnna’s, she got mine.

An eight-year-0ld who liked her fun and games,

Amidst red hearts and bows, she wrote, “You shine

 

like the sun.” Though her words were ones of love,

They were not hers alone but from above.

Shout Poetic Bloomings

 A Writer’s Shout

 

Sing to Him a new song; play skillfully, and shout for joy. Psalm 33:3

 

I sing to God a brand-new song.

The Lord is worthy of my praise.

My heart, my voice, my arms I raise.

I’ll sing it out, I’ll sing it long.

 

My music may come out all wrong.

I’m glad there are some other ways.

I sing to God a brand-new song.

The Lord is worthy of our praise.

 

But I don’t shout or hit a gong,

A quiet sort, not just a phase.

I like to write most of my days.

The way I shout, GOD’S GREAT AND STRONG!

I sing to God a brand-new song.

Shout Poetic Bloomings

 The Unseen Enemy

 

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Ephesians 6:12

 

We often feel jabs and stabs

from people all around us.

We act in ways they don’t like,

and they are set to pound us.

Or they take it to the streets

and ever after hound us.

If we don’t watch, bitterness

will have securely bound us.

We must look to the One who

has gone out, searched and found us,

freed us from oceans of hate

that had distinctly drowned us.

He loosens the strangling cords

by which Satan has wound us.

God helps us love and forgive

to clarify and ground us.

When we focus on His grace,

He truly will astound us.

Just Like Blank Poetic Asides

 Just like Peter Pan

 

Just like Peter Pan

Stuck in Neverland.

Watching his kid shows.

Making his noises.

Running back and forth down the hallway.

A kind of dance

A kind of play

Whatever it is, he can’t say.

He just turned thirty.

And there he still is in Neverland.

house's perspective Poetic Bloomings

 

My House’s Perspective

 

I know she prayed for me,

after years of living in trailers.

She and her husband

built me with their own hands

and many other hands as well.

 

They moved in on her son’s fourteenth birthday.

I didn’t get to know her seventeen-year-old daughter

very well, because she went off to college.

I got to know the son, though.  

She thought he’d never leave, at twenty-four.

 

I took a lot of abuse in my lifetime.

She and her husband took in two people

who couldn’t care for themselves.

The wheel chair wore ruts in my carpets.

The man didn’t always reach the bathroom in time.

 

Then her husband had two strokes.

The people had to leave. I had some reprieve.

But years of abuse left me down and depressed.

My carpets were worn and stained.

My paint had become cracked and drab.

 

But then they went on vacation.

I saw my opportunity.

It took just a few wiggles

and the worn washer hose burst.

Now, something had to be done.

 

They came home and saw me flooded.

Six rooms were ruined.

But I saw that she was hopeful

when she sent her husband

to live with her kids for three months.

 

She worked hard for a year

and hired others as well.

She scrubbed and painted.

She had new carpet installed.

Their friend even built a wonderful back porch.

 

Then the landscaper came. I look lovely

with my new paint, carpet, porch,

and fenced-in landscaped yard.

I’m calm, quiet and beautiful.

No more noise and abuse. I’m content.

 

But it would be nice if she cleaned me more often.

Friends Poetic Asides

 Friends

 

School friends, college friends

Growing-up-together friends

Married friends, church friends

Help-you-raise-your-children friends

Sister friends, brother friends

Those-special-next-door-neighbor friends

Work friends, current friends

Take-each-other-out-for-lunch-friends

Writing friends, painting friends

Poeming-over-the-miles friends

Cousin friends, singing friends

Send-each-other-cards friends

Walking friends, hiking friends

Haven’t-seen-you-in-a-while friends

Sports friends, adventure friends

Meeting-on-vacation friends

Praying friends, traveling friends

Catching-up-over-tea friends

Face book friends, listening friends

Call-me-yes-I-will friends

Laughing friends, teasing friends

I’m-with-you-till-the-end friends

Friends are like a plethora of wild flowers

making a beautiful mountain even more lovely.

stuck inside Poetic Bloomings

 The Challenge

 

Most of my adult life,

has been indoors,

regardless of the weather.

 

Cooking, cleaning, care-giving,

writing, exercising, painting,

playing my uke, singing,

crocheting, record keeping,

studying the Bible and college courses,

journaling, redecorating, reading,

taking care of my plants,

jig-saw puzzling, watching TV.

 

When the cold winds blow

and the snow deepens,

I don’t lack things to do,

but nice weather challenges me

to drop what I’m doing

and enjoy the great outdoors.

appraisal poetic asides

 Treasures

 

Books, vases, walking sticks,

Pictures, plaques, paintings, puzzles,

Art supplies, Knick-knacks, ukuleles,

Hand-made afghans, egadgets, luggage.

 

An appraisal of all my stuff  

wouldn’t amount to much,

which reminds me to treasure

friends, family, and the eternal.

comfort food Poetic Bloomings

 

Pizza and Pasta

 

When it comes to comfort food, the Italians have it right, pizza and pasta. When I was in Italy, Sis and I even took a pizza-making class. Mine turned out rectangular while everyone else’s was the traditional round, but just as yummy. We had so many delicious pizza and pasta dishes that I thought I would never want to look at another dish of pasta or another slice of pizza again. After returning to the USA, it took me a while, but when I did start eating it again, I realized something that surprised me. I actually preferred the Sam’s Club stuffed crust, chicken and bacon pizza and the spaghetti I made al dente with canned tomato or alfredo sauce over the authentic Italian stuff. Dorothy had it right, there’s no place like home (cooking).

 

Pizza and Pasta

Nothing like our home cooking

Sorry Italy

Dreams Poetic Asides

Anxiety Dreams

 

The night before a big event,

my dreams are filled

with a frantic attempt

to get ready to go.

 

The shower is cold.

I look in the mirror

And I’m too old.

And I’m feeling low

 

My clothes are too small.

Or I show up

With no clothes at all.

Embarrassing I know

 

But I’m glad

That event’s realty

Isn’t so sad.

Anxiety happens, even though.

Dreams Poetic Asides

 Daily Dose of Dreams

 

I have a list:

365 things I want from God

Each day throughout the year

I pray for one of them.

Does He answer?

Yes, He does,

“Yes, no, or wait a while.”

 

 

 

Dream Poetic Asides 1

 Dreams

 

D reams filled with

R emembrances and puzzles

E motions and fears

A ccess to life’s

M ysteries. Maybe.

S leep and dream away.