Category Archives: poetry

Writing 101 Day 15: Your Voice will Find You

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Christmas with the Family

How I remember a number of years ago

When for Christmas I was so determined to go home.

Of my siblings, I lived the furthest away

And had the longest trip to come home for Christmas Day.

As time drew near for me to make the long drive

I kept an eye on the pending weather outside.

With relief I saw the ground and roads looked clear

With no hint of a snowstorm to fear.

Then the phone rang; it was my loving but worried mom

Telling me it was snowing there and to not venture out; to not come.

“But the weather looks fine here and I’m already packed to go.

I will be alright,” I told her, “for here there isn’t any storm or snow.”

Then my brother jumped on the phone

And spoke in a sterner tone,

“Don’t come,” he warned, “for it is snowing like blazes here.”

“Well, I’m still coming,” I retorted, “for it is not snowing here.”

I was so determined to go home

And not spend this Christmas all alone.

I jumped in my car and sped on my way;

I was determined to be with family on Christmas Day.

I traveled the first half of my journey

With no troubles and no worries.

The roads were fine and clear

I felt I had nothing to fear.

But soon, just as I was warned,

I had finally caught up to the storm.

Roads became slick as snow dotted the ground.

Becoming concerned, I carefully slowed down.

With each city and town I traveled to,

The journey was more treacherous as I drove through.

I crossed the state line from Minnesota into Wisconsin;

Now my trek was two-thirds done.

Cautiously I had crossed the Mississippi River

While praying for God to guide me in this wintry weather.

Much to my dismay, the road conditions were worsening

As I slowed even more at each turn and each road crossing.

Finally, I was in the last leg with just one more town to go

And then soon I would be with family and safe at home.

But oh my, oh my, what a blinding surprise

Met my weary and strained eyes.

Now the road was so covered in thick snow

That I no longer could see where to go.

I sighed and teared and desperately prayed

For God to keep guiding me and showing the way.

Boldly, yet cautiously I followed by memory

Keeping track of the familiar landmarks that I could see.

I’d recognize a house, a barn, or a line of trees

And recall where the road used to be.

No one else was traveling on the road

I was on this journey feeling all alone.

Carefully, cautiously I continued on

Not letting my eyes become distracted for long.

I needed to keep my focus on the unseen road

Or else I would be lost and stuck in the mounting snow.

Somehow, God was there steadily leading me

And calming me with his quiet company.

I reached the last town, quiet and still

No one was around as a chilly silence there prevailed.

Sort of a creepy feeling with no one in sight

But I knew everyone was staying warm inside.

Finally, I reached the last road leading to the old farm

And soon pulled into the driveway facing the old red barn.

Most of the family was gathered on the porch

Greeting each other and elated beyond words.

For through the storm we all had come

And now were together and safe at home.

My sister-in-law was first to warmly greet,

“how are you?” as she held the door for me.

“Hooray, she’s here,” my young niece jumped,

“Now we can play ‘Leopard Hunt’.”

We enjoyed a savory celebration feast

And then gathered around the Christmas tree.

The gifts and the tearing wrapping paper are a blur to me

But what I recall the most is the love of family.

Later, my mother sat in her chair all alone

And not forgetting all that God has done.

She knew the story of Jesus’ miraculous birth

To show God’s love to us all on earth.

But now, she replied quietly to me,

“God was here; don’t you think, don’t you see?

He indeed gave us another miracle today

When he brought you home safe for Christmas Day.”

Writing 101 Day 14: To Whom it May Concern

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Please Listen to the Quiet Person Inside of Me

Is there a quiet person somewhere in your life?

Some who sits nearby and who barely says “Hi”?

Do you ever wonder why they are that way

As they silently pass through the day?

Or do you believe they are just too stuck up

And so dismiss them without further thought?

I have been accused of that and called names;

Hurtful names that haunt and leave me maimed.

For I am one of those quiet individuals too

And for many reasons I guess, quietness is my refuge.

I try to be outgoing and a little social

But sometimes reaching others is a battle.

For I strain to try and really listen

And join in on the conversation

But hearing the right words is sometimes hard

Especially when listening from afar.

I try to respond and tactfully associate

But find my words or actions are not appropriate.

I receive glares and stares with awkward silence

Which then pummels my inner confidence.

Also when young, I was teased too much and put down

So now I fear looking foolish or like a clumsy clown.

I fear being singled out and being made a target

Of some unkindness which will make my heart ache.

For that has happened in my life more than once

Where I am made to feel unwanted or a mindless dunce.

I cannot describe the pain and heartache that I feel

When I know the hurt was purposeful and intentional.

So now I find it so much easier to sit in silence, you see

Smiling and nodding my head so quietly.

I have learned in life that I am not the only one

Who lives in the fortress of quietness as the world goes on.

I have met others who also express a quiet disposition

And if encouraged, they will express kindness and try to understand.

So if you are filled with compassion and try to listen so carefully

You just might reach that quiet person hiding inside of me.

Becky’s Haiku: Hopes and Dreams

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Some wants and hopes in

 life simply shatter leaving

My dreams in tatters.

Though not knowing what’s

the matter, God still loves and

restores my future.

And Whatever may

be, I will walk with Jesus

 for eternity

I have just attempted another haiku challenge from Ronovan Writes blog this time using the words “wants” and “tatters”. Also, I felt compelled to write three verses for this one.  If you like poetry and haiku’s then I invite you to also accept his challenge at this link: https://ronovanwrites.wordpress.com/tag/haiku-challenge/

Writing 101 Day 12: Foreshadowing of the Weather

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“Next week will become colder,” warned the forecaster.

“No it won’t,” I overheard, “it will be warmer.”

“Which is it?” I wanted to know.

“We’ll know when we get there!”

“Oh great,” I mutter,

“I am tired of this ever changing weather.”

“It is going to snow again,” forecasted the weatherman.

“Oh no it won’t,” I then heard, “it will just rain.”

“Well, which is it?” I try to not complain.

“We’ll know more by next weekend.”

“That is just terrific,” I told myself

“Whatever the weather is, no one can really tell.”

So, I dress for cooler weather and become too warm.

I then dress for warmer weather and catch a good cold.

I seem to hear the wrong forecast and am never rightly foretold.

Now, I lay in my bed coughing, sneezing, and carrying on.

Wondering when spring will finally stay and winter will move along.

“It will be sunny and dry,” I hear one day

And then, “rain! And perhaps some thunder along the way.”

So I take a long drive while it is still cool and dry

Only to meet up with thunder, rain, and lightning flashes before my eyes.

“There will be a little rain, no big deal.”

Then the sky turned black and it pelted and it hailed.

I store the car in the garage as fast as I can

Only for the clouds to clear and no more hail or rain.

What such frantic and surprising days I sometimes live

Listening to the foreshadows of the weather

Which our meteorologists are duty bound to give.

 

Writing 101 Day 11: My Childhood Home

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Last year during this course, I had written a story about my childhood home around age 12 in a piece about the century old four-square house that I had lived in. In fact we lived in that house for many years and it is still in our family as my nephew and my brother take care of it now. There is also an old barn on the land which has been used for years. Again my brother and nephew take care of it and use it as they need. It does not house any animals today as my family is taking some breaks from the very demanding farming life. Nevertheless that barn also dwells in my mind as an important place from my childhood years. Therefore, I decided to write about the old red barn and I have no idea how old it really is. It could be newer than I think too as I wonder about the tall cement and brick walls. So, here is my latest piece about the old barn at my childhood home:

The Old Red Barn

Empty now but erect and three stories high stands the old red barn;

Settled downhill from the quiet road on our small Wisconsin farm.

It once housed horses, cows, pigs, and bales of hay

With barn cats darting and scampering as they hunt and play.

Wild birds lived there too on the highly vaulted ceiling beams

Where they built nests for their young to keep them safe and unseen.

On the first floor were assortment of pens and animal stalls

While the upper level was wide open from floor to ceiling and wall to wall.

Although it was a place for work where animals were fed and watered,

We kids found time to enjoy the day as we climbed up the wooden ladder

Leading into the huge hay mow where bales were stacked so tightly.

We’d climb the tallest pile just to see how high we could be.

Sometimes we would hear tiny mews sounding from under

The loose hay and discover a newborn kitten litter.

It almost never failed that somewhere on that little farm

That every year a new batch of kittens was born.

When the tall barn attic was not quite so full of hay

Then there was more room for us kids to enjoy and play.

One game we played was our own version of racquetball

As we tried to hit tennis balls against the back barn wall.

At other times we tried building long, curving tunnels

By re-arranging and piling the hay bales.

Oh what fun we had creeping, crawling, and slithering through!

And oh how dark it was in there and rather spooky too.

I sometimes climbed up to a high “window” opening

Just to look across the green pasture to the distant tree line.

One a warm summer day, I would also wander up there all alone.

Sometimes it was a quiet place to hide and still be safe at home.

Writing 101 Day 9: Points of View

 

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While continuing in this writing course, I was directed to write about a scene of an older woman making a gift. Perhaps it would have the last gift she would make for someone she loves. We were then to write it from different points of view. However, that scene got me to thinking about the last gift my mom made for me. Therefore, I felt compelled to write about that last gift which I cherish still today:

The Last Gift

I sat here thinking of the last gift my mother gave to me.

It was a monthly calendar with photos of our family.

With great love and joy she delivered the same package

To all her children and to the grandkids.

I sat to look at this last gift that my mother made for me

And turned the pages to gaze at love and familiarity.

Several pictures were of my nephews who once were boys but now men;

They each follow a different path in life. May God in his love forever bless them.

One nephew is pictured as a confident and skillful hunter

Who works hard at all he does, helping others, and being a farmer.

And there’s a smiling photo of my niece featured in the month of her birthday;

My how, she is growing up so fast and becoming a talented and beautiful lady.

My smiling youngest sister is pictured on the February page

Who is very social and witty with the look of laughter on her face.

My other sister is featured in December holding her infant, bright-eyed daughter.

What joy that young girl has brought to our lives with her gentle smile and laughter.

Then there is my brother pictured in May; a modest person who works hard to do

With his gentle smile and his ways what is right and remain ever true.

My sister and brother-in-laws are pictured in different places.

Each one is unique and gifted with different talents and gentle grace.

Featured in September is a picture of me,

Smiling and happy to be seated near my niece.

But my favorite photo is the one of my mother and father

The last one taken of them by my nephew who had joined in their laughter.

That calendar today remains turned to the picture of my mom and dad on my wall

Where they quietly keep watch as I remember the love they shared to us all.

Writing 101 Day Eight: Death of the Adverbs

 

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Well, in this latest assignment, I was to write something about a public place and eliminate all the adverbs! That is often hard to do but I tried. I don’t believe I succeeded in eliminating all of them but you can let me know what you think. So here is my latest poem for you to enjoy and I hope it puts a smile on your face.

Along the River Trail

The other day, a friend and I together

Determined to stroll along the Minnesota River.

We started by the old town depot

Where the steamboats used to come and go.

But today double rail tracks remain

For the passing freight and cargo trains.

It was a warm and beautiful day

With the water glistening beneath the sun’s rays.

We walked along a narrow paved road

somewhat eroded from the last flood

The grayish flood wall on our right

Kept the city out of sight

While the flowing river remained

Stationed on our left side.

That is until we turned around

To return where we started from.

Below the cement trail galore

Stretched out a long and rocky shore.

The water flowed along in a gentle current

 Propelled by a soft and blowing wind.

As we walked along together

Enjoying the sunshine and warm weather,

A Canadian goose stepped along the stones

But lo, we found he was not alone.

For another meandering goose appeared nearby

And together they slipped into the water’s side.

They glided past us in gentle and quiet company

Until a roaring motorboat disrupted their peaceful journey.

While one fowl sprang and soared south the other flew north

And only one circled around returning to the rocky shore.

He glided into the water swimming near the stones;

Peacefulness had returned but now he was alone.

 My heart twitched and ached at this sight

To see this lone creature taking silent and solitary flight.

We continued to stroll along the Minnesota River Trail

Being met by other walkers with a dog and his wagging tail.

Soon my friend and I returned to where we started from;

It was time to go home and for this journey to be done.

So we left the old brick depot; a century aged place

Where time once was slower and life not such an urban race.

But what a splendid day we had decided to share

Blessed with hope and the fragrance of spring in the air.

Writiong 101 Day Seven: Give and Take

 

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In this Writing 101 assignment we were to write a comparison and contrast piece and with the twist of it being in the form of a dialogue. So, that is what I tried to do in this next piece of poetry. I wrote another one similar to this last year in which I compared and contrasted winter and summer. I hope you enjoy reading and that it may brighten your day.

I like Autumn, I like Spring

“I like autumn”

“Well, I like spring”

“What’s so great about autumn?”

“Well, what’s so great about spring?”

“In Autumn, you can take walks and enjoy the cooler weather.

You can also smell the woodsy fragrance as the leaves change color.”

“In Spring, you can stroll beneath the warming sun and feel the milder breeze.

You can also see hints of new life, new green grass, and buds on the trees.”

“In Autumn you can watch and enjoy the beauty of the changing hues;

You see deeper green, pale yellow, vibrant red and brilliant orange too.”

“In Spring you see new plants and many kinds of blooming flowers;

You see daffodils, violets, lilacs, daisies, and tulips of almost every color.”

“Well, yes, but in the spring you also worry about heavy rain, tornadoes,

Lightening, destructive thunderstorms, and damaging hail.”

“Well yes, but also in autumn you must prepare for what arrives later;

Freezing temperatures, snow, sleet, and ice with the arrival of winter.”

“I supposed that is all true, but I still enjoy autumn more than spring

When the last of the fields are harvested and we celebrate Thanksgiving.”

“Well, I will always enjoy the season of spring more than autumn

When we celebrate Easter; the glorious day of Jesus’ victory and resurrection.”

Writing 101 Day Five: The Unfinished Letter

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Years ago I sat down and wrote a letter

To my loving and devoted grandmother.

However, I did not take the needed time

To complete and finish every line.

Instead I took a break to run errands,

Return to work, and enjoy the weekend.

I had allowed other things to become more important

Than my grandma who waited for me with gentle patience.

I had started the letter stating that I was well and enjoying the sunshine

And that I hoped she was also doing splendidly fine.

And that was about all that I had written down

As autumn exited and winter entered town.

Then came Christmas and a visit with family

I visited with my grandmother then beside the ornamented tree.

I paid another visit to her as she rested in a nursing home

And held her frail hand that once was so strong and warm.

I returned home and back to my daily life

My letter still unfinished and even out of sight.

My father then called one day with the unwelcome news;

Grandma had passed in the night before morning was due.

Tears stung my eyes as I heaved with a grieving heart

Now emptiness grew in me like an abyss, very deep and dark.

“Do not be so sad,” my caring father tried to say,

“she passed peacefully and she wanted it that way.”

For my grandmother had lived her life in lasting faith in God;

She believed in his love, his guidance, his gentle staff and rod.

 And she had completed the special deeds she was given

And the Lord had rewarded her with a new home in heaven.

I remembered the letter that I had never finished;

Now it means nothing; a white page of emptiness.

Now with great regret I couldn’t help but think

about my grandmother waiting for it so patiently.

Then I thought of my grandmother with Jesus at her side

Who knew everything and was so very wise.

Perhaps he lovingly told her about my unfinished letter;

Though I never completed it, I also never stopped loving her.

In this way, I try to remain satisfied and steadfastly content

Knowing that my grandmother is alive and well in the kingdom of heaven.