Truth & Fiction

                                                                                               My Mom



With hair like clouds so soft, and white,
and eyes of cornflower blue,
She sat the crying silently I knew not what to do,
Her face was aged, and wrinkled, tender love shows there,
Pain was in those eyes of blue, that pain I also share.
For many children she had born, fifteen all told you see,
She loved each,and every One of them, Individually,
But I was going far away to a foreign land,
The man I loved was standing there, he'd just asked for my   hand.
She hugged me to her breast and said, Be sure in what you say,
America is so very,  very, far away.


                                                                                                   My Dad 


                                               I remember sitting there  on the floor by my Father's knee
                                                His fingers twinning in my hair, and looking down at me,
                                                 We shared a deep affection a bond that grew each year. 
                                                  His fingers changed direction now he tweaked my ear.
                                                 He smiled again, it's time for bed off you go young lady, 
                                              I kissed him on the cheek and said, dont treat me like a baby,
                                                    I thought that I was all grown up  but I was only ten.
                                                Wish my Dad was here with me  to tweak my ear again.


The Flower Garden

The garden starts with snowdrops poking through the snow,     
 Then comes the yellow daffodils, they make a striking show.     
 The Daisy is an easy plant with petals dainty white,     
 And pastel colors intertwine to make the garden bright.     
 A Trumpet vine that climbs so high, a vibrant scarlet red,     
 And hiding in their roots below are the pansies in their bed.     
 For hummingbirds,and butterflies the nectar is so sweet,     
 A lovely flower garden is the greatest summer treat.

            The Royal Gardens


The castles stand so stately tall, their rooftops reaching high With lawns so neat behind the wall a place to sit nearby. The gardens have been tended, with loving hands that new, Just how much work was needed, and knew just what to do. The flowers with their heads all bowed, sway slightly in the breeze, As if they're tired of the crowd standing through the trees. WINDSOR CASTLE The Oueen comes out, gives a wave, the visitors now must go, Pictures that I took to save I take them home to show, To friends who never get to see the royal stately station. Changing of the guard will be,The end

of my vacation.

                                                                                        This  is Windsor  Castle


As I sit here by the window, and look out at the snow it is like a million diamonds that twinkles in the sunlight, an aura of light surrounds the ice like a warm winter blanket It is winter in all it’s splender cold,crisp, refreshing. It is Gods hand at work.


                                                                 Backyard Friends


                                                        A robin sits apon the fence, and watching from afar
                                           is the neighbors great big cat,Im'e glad he's in their yard,
                                             A squirrel comes to get some corn, he eats an ear a day,
                                           It's good that he's the only one that comes around this way.
                                       The doves are waiting for some food, there's many birds you see,
                                            Finches, Robins, Bluejays too, all waiting for some seed,
                                                 I see a little chipmunk, he's hunting for some nuts
                                               They are destructive little things, always making ruts.
                                              There's ladybugs, spiders, beetles, ants, and those pesky
                                                                            mosquitoes too,
                                             All hiding underneath the leaves, just waiting there for you,
                                              For spring is fast approaching, their young come out to play
                                            Explore the yard, check out the food, I think their here to stay

                  Hi, my name is Bandit, and I am

                              very friendly.

Rub my tummy and I purr, scratch between my    ears,  and I meow,and I also follow your mouse.



                                                                When you see an insect crawling on a vine
                                                   Do you ever watch it, and wonder how much time
                                                    that he has spent to get there,and how far he will go,
                                                     and what he has accomplished I guess we'll never know
                                                    These are the kind of things we miss, they happen every day
                                                  But we take them for granted, can't be bothered people say
                                                      But someday when your in the yard with not much else to do
                                                    Look around, seek them out, they could be watching  you.





             I looked at the heavens, the stars shining on high, 
                        what is this feeling. 
                  The night was clear,crisp,nothing stirred. 
                   I felt a warmth not of this earth, 
                  A peacfull feeling,drawing my eyes heavenward. 
                      I reached toward the heavens, 
                       comforted,and at peace. 
                   Share in this feeling,of love, and joy. 
                   A richness that some never find, 
                  Share it,Nurture it,Enjoy it. 
                  Feelings are something you cannot ignore, 
                   they are part of you. 
                   They are your life, your breath, 
                          your exhistance,




                                            Why do they call it poetry, when nothing rymes today.
                                        It's just a sentence, someone said, to tell what they had to say
                                       If Helen Steiner Rice were here she would tell you that's not right,
                                          For poetry is a romantic way  to express what you want to write.
                                          Looking up to see the stars, or watching   a stream below.
                                       Seeing the love in someone’s eyes, and watching children grow.
                                    For every day there is something new, that you had not seen before
                                                 This to me is poetry, to watch Gods work in awe.


                               Magic Of A Garden

When you plant a garden you watch seasons come and go.
        Flowers raise up, plants turn green, they put on quite a show.
     Summer is apon us, and as the flowers bloom
        You watch the birds and butterflies gather nectar for their food
        You see the tiny insects that try to raid their space
        But gone befor you know it, and other's take their place.
        Color has gone rampart, the Red, Yellow, and Blue
        You marvel at the changes as you see what God can do.
        But soon it changes once again, and leaves float to the ground.
        It's time to gathere all the seeds, there are many to be found.
        To plant next year when once again we watch the magic show.
        As each and every seed you plant looks up, and starts to grow.



Your Mother or Mine

She shufled along, shoulders bent,    
 her age was showing as along she went.    
Her hair now white, instead of brown.    
And oh so slowly she walked through town.    
She looked in the windows, watched people walk by,    
If they looked her way she quietly said hi.    
As I watched the thought struck me, that's me in time.    
This could be your mother, or even mine.  



                                                                       Please sign my Guestbook. Thank you


Make a Free Website with Yola.