Thursday, September 23, 2010

Stretching for acceptance Revelations

Stretching the truth can be a bad thing, even when done so as to not hurt someone. It is often better to strip away the cover, revealing what's underneath.

Revelations. A book in the Bible full of promise and frightening possibilities. When you reveal something, you are giving something life, admitting that it has an existence. When you reveal something about yourself to another person, you must trust that they can appreciate it's importance to you, accepting that it is part of who you are whether or not it's something you plan to, or need to , change.


Reluctant to bring it into the light.
Taking a chance with both love and life.
Will he know what I'm trying to say
Or would my revelations chase him away.

I have so many layers and masks that I wear.
Trying to fit in without laying bare
All that I am and want to be.
Trying to be what he wants me to be
Won't work for long, my soul starts to ache.
My spirit is cramped, wants to fly into space.

To give him a glimpse of the woman I am.
I don't need a prince,I need a man
Who will encourage my dreams, free me to fly.
But give me safe haven when day's end draws nigh.

Have to take that chance, a crack, just to start.
Giving a glimpse of what goes on in my heart.
The reveal will happen, a layer at a time.
Until my inner self starts to shine.

If he's blinded by the light
Or if my truth causes him fright,
Then I will know it's not meant to be.
After all, I must be true to me.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

In The palm of His Hand.

Palms. Everyone has two of them. You can hold something gently because it is delicate or frightened. You can use them to grip tightly to keep something from dropping or getting away. You can put them together to applaud a person,a performance or to express happiness. But the best palms of all belong to God. I usually stay away from truly sad poems but this one wants to be written.

In The Palms Of His Hands

Where are the lost
Who fell between the cracks?
Children of the streets,
With none to watch their backs.

They hang around the bars
Hoping at least to find
Someone who will take them home that night
For whatever they have in mind.

Bodies and minds aging faster
Than they were ever meant to be.
Huddling in doorways or empty boxes
Trying to find some peace in sleep.

But the cold steals through their ragged clothes
And rats run across their feet.
The terrors that their parents sowed
Are the tragedy they reap.

Sometimes at night the angels come
To take them to a place
Where they can be a child again
Far from this ugly space.

Please don't turn away when you see
These children of the street.
You could be their savior,
Their voice when they can't speak.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

A Long Time Past

Sometimes I'm so tired I could just scream. There have been so many changes in my life and I was letting them pull me down. This weeks theme is a great chance to pull my thoughts together and reach for the light.

Star Shining

I let the darkness take me.
It was hard to care
Enough to continue.
So many losses
Tears flowing faster
Than I could
Wipe them away.
A whisper in my ear,
My grandchildren playing,
Heard as if
They were far,far away.
The music of the earth
Muffled by my sorrow.
The wind of chance
Taking so many away.

I hid in my computer
Not wanting to face
That those I loved
Were truly gone.
As God healed my heart,
A glimmer of light shone
And slowly grew brighter.
They are not gone.
My sister is out of pain
Dancing with my Dad
And aunt in Heaven.
The others, while not related
Are waiting for me too.

I'm once again joining
The music all around me.
God's light surrounds me
Bringing comfort
To my soul.
The stars above are brighter
Than they've ever been before.
And I look forward to finding
The person God has
Put aside to make me whole.

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Lollipop, Lollipop

Candy is often a gift of the heart (Valentine's Day, Mother's Day, Christmas, anniversaries,Easter, etc.) It comes in so many delightful forms, limited only by the expertise of the artist. Bars, bricks,flowers, drops, flat, ribboned and even spun. What would a carnival or circus be without cotton candy, not the bagged stuff, but the one you watch be spun and twisted into an airy confection that disappears on your tongue. Candy is the dieters devil, luring you off that chocolate wagon to swim in a pool of dark velvety softness.


A nougat bar is a delight
A truffle melts like a dream
Solid bars of dark chocolate lines
The road to OZ for me .
Jawbreakers truly live up to their name.
The candy, round and hard,
Layers upon layers of sweetness
"Oh, where's that dentist's card?"

A young boy stands shyly with
A heart-shaped box in his hand.
Ready to give to his very first crush.
Isn't first love grand?

His first date made him nervous.
Flowers and chocolates held tight.
With trembling hands he gives them to her.
She was a beautiful sight.

"The flowers are lovely,
Please pin them on me.
But I hope you understand
That while I dearly love candy
I'm on a diet
And candy is contraband."
So he turned with a bow
To the mom standing there
And says "These are for you, my lady
A small gift from me to you
For allowing this date with your baby.

So I raise a cup of hot chocolate high
In salute to family and friends.
But don't get between me and my chocolate
If you value your life, my friend.

Sunday, June 6, 2010


Poetry in Motion

White clouds drifting by
Over the winter’s snow.
A white wolf stands howling
To his pack far below.
A snowshoe hare running
Over a crisp, sparkling snow.
A snowy owl flies silently,
Looking for prey below.
The winter moon moves slowly
Across the clear night sky.
Silence and peace fill my soul.
How I wish that I could fly.

Thursday, June 3, 2010

White,wrinkled, pets

I've been absent for awhile with computer problems and other things, so I thought I try to combine the last three TT's.

What would mankind be without pets? They can become your best friend, a sounding board, a way to meet other people. They have been proved to lower blood pressure, bring a way for some people to reach out beyond their emotional shell, give a purpose to life by caring for them.

Wrinkles. They can cause a lot of people anxiety about their looks but they can also be a badge of honor. Wrinkles can also be something that needs to be smoothed out, in clothing, in plans, in life.

White. A surface to be written on, a blank canvas waiting for that first stroke of a brush. White is often considered the color of purity and innocence, both in fables and in ceremonies. A white stallion, a white unicorn, or a white hat, symbolizing strength and purity of purpose.

So here I go again.

A Blessing in Disguise

Once my life seemed simple,
A wide road well traveled and straight
But you came along and twisted the page
Leaving me in the hands of fate.
I tried to smooth out the wrinkles,
The valleys and hills,
So I could once again find my way.
But all of my efforts did little
To change my direction,
My life remained dreary and grey.

I went for a walk to clear my mind,
To the forest, dark and deep.
Followed a trail that led to a glen
Where I laid down to sleep.
A warm breath caressed my face and I
Opened my eyes to find
A figure of most dazzling white,
A warm smile and eyes so kind.

She held in her hand a bundle of fur,
Or so it seemed to me.
"I bring you this gift to soothe your soul.
What will be, will be.

His name is Nomad and he will be
Loyal, strong and brave.
A wanderer as you've come to be,
To guide you on your way."
Then she vanished and I looked to find
A puppy in my grasp.
A smile that stretched from ear to ear,
A tail wagging quite fast.

I took him home and raised him up.
He was everything she sad he would be.
And in the end, it was him
Who led you here to me.
You saw us in a park one day
And came over to say hi.
Love hit us like a bolt
Of lightning from the sky.
So I thank my guardian angel
For the gift she gave that day.
A teasured friend and companion
And a love that never fades.

Friday, May 14, 2010


My computer (3 months old) is in the shop,so I'm doing this on a friend's laptop. What is wrong with my computer is truly a mystery that will(hopefully) be quickly solved.
Some of my favorite books to read are mysteries. I love shows like Bones and NCIS. If things have gone missing, it's a mystery that must be solved.

In Search Of

One step,two steps
Three steps,four,
I worked my way
Across the floor.
Seaching high
And searching low.
Where oh where
Did that foolish thing go.

Under the couch,
Behind the door,
On top of the table,
How many more
Places are there
For that thing to hide.
I must find it
I have my pride.

The tv taunts me,
I can't watch my shows.
Where oh where
Did that remote go?
I'm slowly going
Out of my mind
I must get some help
Of a special kind.

I turned to my tot
And said quite clear,
"Winry,is my remote near
Any place that you played,
Any place that you sat?"

She gave me a look
And went straight to her box,
Dived into her toys
Had that remote
In a shot.

"Horray" I cried,
And turned on the set.
Snuggled on the couch
With my tot and her pet.
Mystery solved and sanity reigns.
Don't want to go through that again.

Thursday, May 6, 2010

Think Pink

How can a person think about pink and not think about Mother's Day. As a matter of fact, it's this Sunday, May 9th. I have so many reasons to be glad I'm a mom. Even though there has been much turmoil in their lives, my children have shown their true inner beauty time and time again. I am also graced with three wonderful grandchildren, 2 girls and a boy, each with their own special talents and ways of showing love. My only regret this Mother's Day is that my sister is not here with me, expecting the birth of her first grandchild. I hope that my niece will let me stand in for her from time to time.

Pretty In Pink

I gazed in wonder at her nose,
At all ten fingers
And ten little toes.
Skin as pink as a new dawn sky,
I gazed into my baby's eyes.

In her first pink blanket
As soft as a cloud,
I wrapped her carefully.
And held her out
For her Dad to hold.
A newborn life
More precious than gold.

But strangely enough
As my daughter grew older
Her view of pink
Grew colder and colder.
She hated Barbie
And all her pink stuff.
She rather run and fish,
Play ball and be tough.

Don't get me wrong
She's a girl through and through
She wore dresses of other hues.
But to pink she would say,
"No thank you."
That's not who I am,
I am my own self.
You can just put that pink thing
Back on the shelf.

Now she's a mom
And her daughter does not
Follow Mom's footsteps.
She likes pink a lot.
She's a little beauty,
So pretty in pink.
Even her mom must agree,
But only in small doses,
If you please.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Daisy, Daisy

Give me your answer, do.
I'm half crazy
All for the love of you.
It won't be a stylish marriage,
I can't afford a carriage.
But you'll look sweet
Upon the seat
Of a bicycle built for two.

So many styles and types of bicycles. The pink bicycle is a 1960 Spacelander.
The second two person bicycle is a Western Flyer Tandem.

On My Way

When I was baby,my first ride
Was in a carriage, up so high.
When I was one I got four wheels
On a toddler rider.
You should have heard me squeal.
When I was two, my wheels became three.
A tricycle pushed by my very own feet.
When I was five, four wheels once again
A two-wheeled bike with training wheels for friends
At the age of six, I was ready to fly.
Off came the trainers, just my bike and I.
The world became larger as my legs grew stronger.
Taking me faster, my trips getting longer

At 16 my bicycle had an engine.
A motorcycle, a wonderful invention.
But for enjoying the world as I glide by,
Nothing beats my bicycle under the sky.
It benefits both the body and mind.
The enviorment too, no fumes left behind.
A wonderful trip for family and friends
A few miles and back, good food at the end.

Thursday, April 22, 2010


How many times have you found yourself drafted into doing something you really didn't want to do, a friend needs help, your child needs 3 dozen cupcakes Today, your child, now a mother, frantically looking for a babysitter as hers cancels out at the last minute.
The blogspot is the home of the draft of the writing kind. You suddenly feel cold because of an unexpected draft. There are draft horses, gentle giants used for all kinds of farm chores. It is also a term used by race car drivers where you use the draft created by another car to move forward, I assume to save gas.

Drat That Draft.

I feel a little cold
But no matter what I do,
I can't find the hole
That draft is coming through.
The temperature is dropping,
The draft is getting stronger.
I have to find the source.
I can't stand it any longer.

First I wet my finger
And hold out in front.
Seems to make no difference,
I continue to be stumped.
I see a feather drifting
And try to backtrack
It's floating flight but
It twists and turns.
No help there, alack.

So I chose my final option.
A flame will surely show
The way to go to plug that hole
Letting in the cold.
I heard a gentle hissing
As I seemed to near the source
And suddenly I was flying
From an explosion's Tremendous force.

And so my friends
My lesson learned
A simple one, it's true.
If you feel cold,
Wrap yourself up
Unless you like black and blue.

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Another Mealtime Post

Lunch. On my shift it comes in the middle of the night. For others, it's in the middle of the day. You can meet friends for lunch, have a business lunch, have a three martini lunch (why is that drink so popular, anyway? must be a James Bond thing). And for those who can't get out of bed in time for breakfast, we have brunch. My favorite type of lunch is a picnic lunch. Finger foods, kisses and wine.

In The Meadow

Pleasant way to spend the day.
Idling the time away.
Not a cloud in the blue
Interrupting the view.
Casual dining, it's true.

Lying on the blanket
Under the sun above
Near the one that I love
Cold chicken and wine
Hot love's on my mind.

Pressing lips together,
Igniting the flames,
Now the blanket becomes their nest
Instead of wine,they drink each other,
Caressing the skin,slowly undress.

Lovers exploring,learning to
Understand each other pleasures
Nearing the hard earned peak .
Inferno explodes,again and again.
Clearly the best of the desserts.

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Hidden Treasures

Boxes come in all shapes and sizes. You have hat boxes, cereal boxes,shipping boxes,
shirt boxes,boxes with windows and boxes that hide what's inside. Boxes are some of the greatest toys ever. They can become a clubhouse,a spaceship,part of a costume, anything limited only by the imagination of a child.

Treasures in the Attic

I saw a box
That was made of wood.
I was sure that it
Held something good.
I pried open the top
And what did I find?
A treasure of things
From long ago times.

There were hats and dresses,
Wigs with long tresses,
Gloves and shoes
Of varying hues.
A train and a doll,
Jacks and a ball.
A pile of old letters
But one thing even better.

At the very bottom
Of that old box.
I found a diary
And the key for the lock.
I opened that book
And started to look
For the secrets hidden inside.
I was astonished, amazed
That back in those days
The secrets that were written within
Were something much like
Something I might write.
Life coming full circle again.

I never had thought
Great grandmother taught
Her children much as I do mine.
She fell in love, broke her heart,
Thought they never would part.
Picked herself up
And started over again.
New love did bloom
Under the light of the moon
This one held true to the end.

Although much has changed
Between then and now,
One thing will always be true.
If you hide your life
In a book in a box,
Someday someone will read about you.

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Little Blessings

I know this is early, but my time is very limited today. Happy Easter, everyone.

Yellow is such a wonderful warm color. It frequently is found in kitchens and nurseries, lending a feeling of peace and happiness. What a dull world it would be without yellow to remind us of the start of springtime, flowers of all types sharing this glorious color, daffodils,forsythia,tulips and roses. Even the humble dandelion comes into it's own, it's greens finding their way into our salads, the wonderful yellow flowers often gathered as a gift from a child to mother. How many of us have shared the fun of blowing the fluff from the flower, spreading the seeds to dance delightfully on the wind.

A Sonnet to Yellow

Simple pleasures, little blessings.
The warmth of the sun caresses the face.
The yellow ducklings and baby chicks
Waddling towards the gate.

The bright yellow of an Easter hat
With matching dress and purse
Puts a little girl in her Sunday best
As she heads out for the church.

A child's laughter as she plucks
Yellow blossoms from the ground,
To share with those around her.
Truly is a joyful sound.

The yolk of an egg,
The butter, fresh churned,
The banana put at the plate.
Even the yellow of corn can contribute
To a breakfast that's first rate.

Gold is yellow that glistens.
It can sparkle in the stream.
But sometimes it can fool you,
Fools gold broke many a dream.

The yellow brick road, for Dorothy,
Led to the Emerald city most fair.
She had a lot of adventures
On her way to getting there.

The golden glow from our Lord's face
When he arose from the tomb
Spread His love for all to share.
Make sure you make some room.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

A Sign of the Times

So many things can be used as a sign. Paper,plastic,cloth or wood. Stone makes an enduring sign. Smoke trails can be a sign of fire or written across the sky for advertising. When a hunter tracks in the wood, many signs tell him what his prey has been doing and where it has gone. Body language can be a sign of how a person is feeling. So here's a brief take on

It's a Sign Of The Times

When the chidren learn
So much from computers.
It's a sign of the times
When reality shows
Outdraw the sitcoms.
It's a sign of the times
When love can be found
In so many ways.
It's a sign of the times
When marriages break up
50% of the time.
It's a sign of the times
When the Earth rebels
Because of what we do to it.
It's a sign of the times
That people are becoming more
Tolerant of differences
It's a sign of the times
That we want to go
Faster and faster.
It's a sign of the times
That one person can no longer
Support a family without help.
It's a sign of the time
That I have to go to work.
Goodnight and sweet dreams.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Break Your Fast

According to this, the first meal of your day is breakfast, no matter when you eat it.
It can be as simple as toast and coffee or as elaborate as a full buffet. Cold cereal, hot cereal, bacon, eggs, steak, homefries, the list goes on and on. Let's see if I can make you hungry.

Get Your Engine Started.

First thing in the morning,
The aroma rising up
From that very first cup of coffee,
Poured from the pot.
The waffle iron is heating up
Preparing to bake
That delicacy that can be enjoyed
So many different ways.
Top with butter, pour on the syrup
Or add fruit and whipped cream.
Baked with love, to share with friends
A breakfast lover's dream.

The sizzle of the bacon,
Sausages or ham,
Crisping to a golden turn,
Cooking in the pan.
Don't throw that grease,
The eggs are next,
So many ways to make.
Sunny side up or scrambled,
Over-easy or baked.
The omelet here may reign supreme
A meal in itself, for sure.
Add ham or cheese or peppers
Spices, fresh ground and pure.
Add a side of hashbrowns
To provide even more allure.

The smell of oatmeal and maypo,
Brings childhood to mind
With a glass of juice
And a side of toast,
To start the day off fine.

So many items from the bakery
Compete for table space.
Doughnuts, muffins,
Croissants and scones
Find their way to your plate.

Don't forget the liquids
To make the meal complete
Milk or tea, coffee or juice.
Makes all go down so sweet.

So now my poem about breakfast
Is finished at last.
I'm so hungry that now I must
Go and break my fast.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Mama Kurata

I love hats. I have multiple cowboy hats, biker hats, a fedora. They can express your personality or be a part of a uniform. Police, firefighters, rangers, fast food workers, hunters and ballplayers all wears hats unique to their profession .

My favorite hats are the ones I create for the Japanese animation conventions I go to with my family. I love to dress up in costume but there aren't many characters that someone my age can play. Then along came Kodocha. Mama Kurata has a grade school daughter,Sana, who is a TV star . One day, Mama and Sana visited a pet shop. A crazy little ground squirrel jumped on Mama's head and refused to get off. So Maro-Chan comes home to be a part of the family. Mama is a succesful author with a crazy sense of humor and a very unique view on hats. This means I get to do something different with her hats each year. The Mad Hatter hasn't got anything on me.

I felt that the squirrel should have some of the fun.
Hat # 1, the squirrel is fishing.
Spending a day on the pond
Wondering, wishing
To catch the biggest fish that he can.

Hat #2, I thought he felt lonely.
So he married his one true love
In a Japanese style wedding
In my hat far above
The applauding guests.

Hat#3 Is a Star Wars sight.
To the future we go,
The Emperor to fight.
It's Darth Chipmunk against
Maro-Chan Skywalker
You see.
The outcome was certain.
It's Victory.

Hat#4 Is in tribute to
The Red Socks. They did it.
The Death of the Curse.
The World series was won!!
At last, we were first.

I'll explain the rest later, to work I must go.

Sunday, March 7, 2010

Angel In Flight

I don't know how many of you are aware, but my sister died on Friday. She was a wonderful person, mother, sister and friend. I'll post more about her later when things are more settled.


Sister of ours, Betty and Frank.
Angel in flight
Needing no light to guide her way.
Daughter to Shirley and Frank,
Released from this Earth,
Another light to show us the way.

Beloved of all,
Revered by her children Lori and Keith.
Eager to help when she could.
Never looking to serve only herself.
Now God has chosen to end her pain
And give her a new body, whole and good.
New angel waiting to soar.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

The Emerald Isle

OK, I admit that this didn't take a lot of thought. What is green about March? St. Patrick's Day, of course. Green also can be thought of as the return of spring, crocus beginning to push above the ground, delicate leaf buds appearing at the end of branches and one of my personal favorites, pussy willows. They, along with dandelions, are often a mother's first gifts from their children.
This is a small tribute to the Emerald Isle, one of the many countries in my ancestry.

The Emerald Isle

Long ago and far away,
As well as the here
And now,
Ireland has a history
Of things fanciful
And wild.
The fairy rings
Of mushrooms tall,
The leprechand's gold
At rainbow's end,
The wonderful history of ghosts
And castles
To their folklore lends
A touch of magic,
Tales to be told,
Passed down to
Families and friends.

The music of Ireland stirs my soul.
It's Celtic rhythm soothes
Or can be a song to march to,
A cry to arms, so true.
The sounds of pipes
And harps, I love.
The violin's music surrounds
Like angels voices from above.
A fiddle plays to make me dance,
My steps are fairy light.
The distant thunder of
Step dancing
Makes my heart take flight.

The wonderful gift of St. Patrick,
He chased the snakes away.
So we celebrate his awesome deed
On St. Patricks Day.
We wear the green
With pride and flair.
A toast with whiskey so fine,
You should at least
Have a pair
Of Irish rye, sublime.

So in conclusion
I wish to give
A blessing, nothing to dread.
May you be in heaven a full hour
Before the devil knows you're dead.

I'm posting this early as my sister is gravely ill and I must go. She may not have much longer.
God bless you all.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Spin the bottle

Bottles are wonderful containers. My favorite ones are made of glass. They are a true representation of the glassmakers art, their only limit is the skill and the imagination of the artist. Whether hand blown or molded by machine, they protect whatever is inside. The inaugeration of a new perfume requires almost as much thought to the bottle as to the precision blending of ingredients to create that signature scent.

I especially like the building of boats in bottles. The detail work in these miniature works of art is amazing. You could almost picture yourself standing on the deck, the action of the waves rocking the boat, the salt air invigorating in it's breezes and scent. What if someone really was on that ship?

The Auction Ship

Gerald was very excited to finally make it to the auction. This one specialized in miniatures and his favorite, ships in a bottle, were well represented. He'd been saving up over the past few months, wanting to add something really unique to his collection. Gerald roamed the auction floor, trying to decide on which ones to bid on. He felt strangely drawn to one in particular, a pirate ship in full sail, the Jolly Roger seeming to flap in the breeze, the pirates with rum in one hand, a fistful of coins in the other. They even had a captive, sitting on the deck, knees drawn up,huddled in fear.

Taking his place with the other bidders, Gerald waited impatiently for the ship to come up for bid. Finally!! There was a lot of interest in the ship, the bidding going higher and higher, but Gerald knew this one had to be his. It took every last cent of his savings, but his persistance paid off.

Home at last! Gerald had the perfect place in his bedroom for his ship, the nightstand near his bed. He placed it carefully, noting with relief that it made the journey unharmed. Fixing himself a quick snack, he got into bed to read a little before he went to sleep. Soon, he had fallen sleep with the book in his lap, a book about pirates.

"Help me, help me please!!". Gerald sat up quickly, looking for the owner of the voice, but he saw no one. He settled back onto his pillow, thinking he must have dreamed it. But there it was again. "Help me please!!" As Gerald searched the room, he happened to glance at the pirate ship. The figures had changed position!!! All the pirates had fallen asleep on deck, drunk into oblivion. The captive was standing up, waving frantically at him. He crouched down for a closer look. Her ragged dress and dirty features took nothing from the beauty of her face and form. How was this possible?

Using a nail file, Gerald made a bridge of sorts, reaching through the neck of the bottle to the ship inside. The woman looked quickly around, but all the pirates continued to snore, unaware that their captive was about to escape. Quietly, watching every footfall, she slowly moved to the nail file, shaking badly but managing to keep her balance across the narrow footpath. She reached the lip of the bottle just as the pirates began to wake up. She jumped onto Gerald's waiting hand as the pirates swarmed onto the nail file. One quick push and the nail file fell, taking the pirates with it. They vanished into a vortex that suddenly opened and just as suddenly closed. She was safe.

Gerald put her gently on his bed. He turned away for a second to check the ship and on turning back to her, saw a swirling mist begin to surround her, a pulsating glow emmiting from her skin.
She vanished and reappeared as a full sized woman.
" Who are you?" gasped Gerald, "And how did you get in that bottle?"
"My name is Allura. I was captured by those pirates when I was traveling to England by ship. I lost everything to those horrors. They thought they could get a ransome from my father, who was a very wealthy businessman and was waiting in England for us to arrive. As the ship pulled away from the wreck, a vortex opened up and sucked the entire ship into it. I think they somehow blamed me but was afraid if they killed me, they would die themselves."

"Well, you're safe now." said Gerald. "Tell me a little more about yourself. Maybe we can find your family."
Allura thought for a bit, trying to gather her thoughts. " I was born in Bristol, England in 1955. That would make me 25 on my next birthday. My mother and I traveled to the States shortly after she and my father got a divorce. I was 12 at the time. We were heading back to England to celebrate my cousin's wedding. I was going to be her maid of honor. I'm so upset to have missed the wedding, my mother made my gown and she......" Allura began to cry, remembering that her mother had been killed during the fight. "How I miss her."

Gaining some control over her emotions, Allura began looking around the room, not recognizing several of the items in it. "What is that?" she said, pointing to the cd player. Gerald realized that she had no idea how long she had been trapped in the bottle.
"I think you better sit down, Allura. What I have to tell you may come as a severe shock. This is February 25th and the year is 2010. "

"That's not possible, you must be mistaken!!! I was only captured a week ago. If you're right, everything I treasured has changed. I've lost so much more than just what went down on that ship. How could this be?" Allura threw herself across the bed, weeping wildly, her heart breaking. Gerald gathered her into his arms. "The ship must have been in some sort of stasis," he said," so no one moved or aged until I brought the ship home with me. " She felt so good in his arms, as if she belonged there. He suddenly realized what had drawn him to that ship. She was his soul mate and that fact had broken the stasis when he bought the ship and brought it home.

"Allura, listen to me.
You're here because
We were meant to be.
Two halves of a whole,
A hand in it's glove .
Nothing is more certain
Than the strength of our love.
I'll always protect you
Of that be assured.
And help you find your way
In this strange new world.
A new life together
Till death do us part.
You can always be sure
Of the love in my heart.
So reach out your hand
Take mine, be my wife.
Today is the first day
Of the rest of our life."

Allura looked at Gerald, slowly realizing that he was right. Today was truly the first day of the rest of their life.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Hark,how the bells

Bells are music to the ears of so many. From the tiniest bell on the jester's cap to the huge bells in the highest steeple, they ring out their message for all to hear. They can warn you, call you to supper or services, ring out in joy or in the pain of a nation's grief. They can help you find livestock or sing out their music on a breeze. My sister and I were in a bell group in the church we went to as children. What a unique and wonderful way to bring a sense of wonder to the music of the spheres. So once again, I present a poem for your enjoyment.


I heard a bell ringing today.
A message of joy,
Wanting to say
A baby has been born.
A child of a king
The succession secured.

I heard a bell ringing today.
A message of love,
Ringing to say
These two have been
For life this day.

I heard a bell ringing today.
A message of warning,
Of danger that comes
From land,sea or air.
We shall not succumb
To the terror
But turn to fight
They shall not succeed
In winning this night.
Victory is ours.

I heard a bell ringing today.
In sorrow and pain,
Our President has left
This life behind.
And once again
Our nation has lost
It's guiding light
To an assassin's

I heard a bell ringing today.
Telling me it's time
To start my day,
Whether it's for work
Or play.
I needs must get up
The piper to pay.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Mirror, Mirror

Mirrors. They can be your best friend or your worst enemy. A mirror can show you that piece of lettuce stuck between your teeth before you go to the conference room to make an important presentation. It can become an obsession, so that you can't walk by one without checking yourself out, seeing just how perfect you Think you are.

A child can be a mirror,where you can see your looks and mannerisms reflected in so many ways. Children can also be a tape recorder so you better watch what you say and how you say things in front of them.

There are all types of mirrors. Flat,concave,convex,wavy (think fun house),even magnifying (now that can be really scary). Those imperfections you see are a part of who you are, they don't have to diminish you. For your consideration I present:


You don't have to wait until you are perfect
To send His message forward.
He can use your imperfections
To reflect His precious light.
People need to see
That you can be
Perfect in Him
And in sharing your
Bless others.

For they will see
That He can see
Past your outward roughness
To the needs in your soul.

Even a diamond needs to be faceted
By cuts and blows
To bring out it's true beauty.
So shall your soul be polished
In the cuts and blows
Of your trials and tribulations.
He polishes the mirror of your soul
With his love,
Allowing others to see His reflection
In you.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010


Red. What a wonderful color. It can symbolize so many things. You can see red if you're angry. It frequently means danger of some kind, often deadly. Red can stand for strength or courage, an incredible sunrise or sunset or simply a color, warm and inviting. Today, it makes me think of our servicemen and women, who frequently shed their blood in the service of our country, protecting the freedom and life we hold dear. So I dedicate this effort to them and to my Dad. My father was a member of the Army/Air force (before the Air force was a separate entity). He worked hard with both the American Legion and the VFW,getting as far as SR Vice Commander with the VFW, as well as being "Seam Squirrel" for the Cooties, who were responsible for bringing a little good to those of the Armed Forces in the hospital. He also was a proud member of the Oxford Color Guard, who stood for our nation at the funerals of those who have been a part of the military. Our family worked together to put out the VFW Post newsletter for many years. If any man's blood ran red, white and blue, it was surely his.

All For One

They stand at the front lines,
Holding back
The enemy who would take
From us what they lack.
To keep our lives and freedom,
They risk theirs every day.
For God and country,
Those at work and at play.
I therefore state,
And you know that it's true,
The blood of our servicemen
Runs red, white and blue.

The enemy dares
To attack us here
With planes and death.
They should shake in fear.
For we immediately send
Our finest and best
Women and men.
When put to the test
They will show what we already knew.
That the blood of our servicemen
Runs red, white and blue.

Marines hit the beaches
Or land where they may.
Landing in secret
Or with guns blazing away.
Each yard of ground gained
Makes it easier for
The ones coming behind them.
Though vision be poor
Or sharp as a knife,
Under hot blazing sun
Or the dark of the night.
It is true that they are
A relentless crew.
The blood of our marines
Runs red, white and blue.

The army has long
Been the backbone of
The troops that we send
Far from ones that they love.
They take incredible risks
To advance our cause.
Even though bombs and guns
May make them pause.
They fight ever onward,
A valiant crew.
The blood of our soldiers
Runs red, white and blue.

The navy does fight
Both above and below
The oceans and seas.
The captains know where to go
To find the enemy.
Their courses to slow.
They fight ship to ship
And from sea to land.
From the ocean to sky
Missiles leave blazing brands.
According to all
That we hold true,
The blood of our sailors
Run red, white and blue.

Now to the air force
We surely must fly.
It is their job
To protect from the sky.
With dogfights and bombing runs
They work hard to defend
The American dream.
From beginning to end
Of their flight it is sure
They'll fight their hardest
To keep all secure.
The pilots and ground crews,
We know through and through
The blood of our air force
Runs red, white and blue.

We must also not forget
Our medical crews,
The doctors and nurses
And corpsmen too.
They work hard to repair
The damage done to our troops.
Often under fire themselves,
Jumping through hoops
To maintain a balance
Between life and death.
And that is proof positive
That in their veins too
Blood runs with the colors
Of red,white and blue.

Thursday, January 28, 2010


Felt. Hmmm. could be a noun, or a verb, as in" I touched the felt of the pool table" or "I felt out of place" Impression can also be treated the same way--"did I make an impression on you?" or "I was really impressed by your generosity" . Not a lot to say about either so I'll just jump to my poetic side. I felt hopeful that it would make an impression on you.


I heard your heartbeat
For the very first time today.
It made such an impression on me,
I didn't know what to say.
The nurse put the speaker on
And I heard that rapid beat.
I was thrilled beyond words when I also felt
The kick of your baby feet.
A precious life resided there
Inside my warm dark womb.
Growing stronger everyday
Until you reach full bloom.
I called out to your daddy
So he could share my joy.
He was impressed by how strong you are.
His very first baby boy.
I felt his arms around me,
Surrounding us with his love.
A family made and blessed by God
Smiling down from heaven above.
I think if you listen carefuly,
A wonder you would find.
That our hearts all beat together,
Yours and his and mine.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Kewl Beanz Grand Opening

Ok, you all, here's the deal. In the course of our escape by the skin of our teeth (and little else) I need to pick a new gown. I'm having a hard time deciding between several gowns I found at a wonderful boutique in Pleasantville. Sean's not much help, he likes them all (or nothing at all :)).
I posted the same one twice... Oh well.
Sean's all set. He always carries several spares in the trunk

Let's get this Party Started

Of course, being me, I got the time wrong. Sean and I jumped up to get ready for our big day. Well, imagine that, I'm EARLY. I think we'll go back to bed for a little more smooze (ah, make that snooze time.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Let Us Break Bread Together

Bread. The staff of life. Also, another name for money (Man, do you have some bread?) might be something you'll hear at the Kewl Beanz (Don't miss the open house!!!). I googled "bread" and came up with a group of that name from the 70's. I found over 3000 different recipes for bread as well.

I remember the warm fragrant smell of fresh bread from the oven. My kids thought it was so great, with butter or homemade jam, that I would have to make at least two loaves so we would have one for later. We even made sourdough bread from starter that was passed from friend to friend, a chain letter of goodness. I really miss having the time to make things from scratch. We even tapped our maple trees and boiled down the sap to make syrup.

So, as always I submit a poem for your enjoyment.


I thought to make some bread today.
Warm fragrant goodness
To welcome them home
After a hard day.
To share with friends
Who bless my life
And give me a way
To rest from strife.

I thought to make some bread today
Rolling and pounding it
Is a way
To release my frustrations
That built up so high,
I thought I would blow
Clean up to the sky.
I slid them into the oven,
And tried to calm my racing thoughts.
The fragrance spread thoughout
The house
And brought me peace
As I breathed it in
And out.

I wander here and everywhere
But no matter where I roam.
The wonderful aroma of baking bread
Reminds me of past and home.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

What Lies Beneath

Surface. It could be silky-smooth or as rough as a clam shell road, a thing of beauty or something so hideous that it hurts the eyes. What you see may indeed be what you get or only the first of many layers, leading to new discoveries the deeper you go. We tend to take so many things at face value because it's easier than expending the effort to ferret out the truth.

The sense of touch is a wonderful way to find out about the world we live in. Babies use it from the moment they are born, finding their way in a blurry world, learning from textures on the surface to find nourishment and security, stimulating their brain, imprinting on a slate that will never be as ready for new information as it is at that moment.

I enjoy a good treasure hunt, digging beneath the surface at yard sales and flea markets, in boxes and piles, just begging to give up their secrets. I have found many things of value that way, not just in cash but also in history, a look at things and lives long past.

So, for your enjoyment, I present,

What Lies Beneath

I walked deep in the desert,
Sand and rocks all around,
Hoping for a sign
Of water beneath the ground.
That precious liquid,cool and fresh
To renew my life and bring me rest.

The longer I walked and stumbled,
The weaker I became.
The way I sought to travel
No longer seemed a game.
I looked up and thought I saw it
Shimmering through the haze.
It's placid surface gleaming
Beneath the sun's harsh gaze.

I gathered my strength and breath.
For the surface I had to cross
Was full of rocks and hidden traps.
I could not face the loss.
I had to gain my objective
No matter what the cost.

But when I reached the water
And leaned down to drink,
I found the water bitter.
It drove me to the brink.
Then I turned around and saw
The love you had for me.
If I had looked beneath the surface,
This pain did not need to be.

You stretched your arms out to me.
Though I had run to find
The excitement I thought I was missing.
How could I be so blind
Not to have looked beneath the surface
To find a love for all time.

Thursday, January 7, 2010


Spinning, my head is spinning. Like a whirlpool, it never ends... I see polka dots before my eyes. Might be from New Year's Eve. How about this for a drink?

Auld Lange Syne (new version)

When old friends can't be forgot
Even with tequila and lime.
There's always time to try a few
Of a special drink of mine.
An ounce of Old Turkey and one of Blue Goose,
Captian Morgan's and aged brandy, sublime.
Served over the rocks and you won't care
Who sings Auld Lange Syne.

And all those pink elephants on parade
Have polka dots the color of wine.
They lead me straight to another drink.
I must have been out of my mind.
Now those polka dots swirl and dance
Till I'm so dizzy, I can't see.
I think I'll lay down on the floor
And enjoy my snoozes ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Warning : this is a drink I made up. I haven't tried it. Do so at your own risk,lol