Draw Me #poetry #art

 

it just takes one line

followed by another

color  then some more added

and a smile or two

give me a long neck

or a furry mane

four long legs or short

will have to do

teach me to draw

show me to paint

clay in my fingers

don’t want to wait

look at the sky

God’s daily design

 something fluffy and blue

that catches our eye

 

 

When you think of art you might say “I can’t draw?” Why?

It’s more a block in between your mind and your hands then you realize.

Children create more easily because they haven’t acquired the “hang up” of success. They just “do.” You are never too old to learn how to draw, paint, sculpt and there is no grade at the end either. So try a creation done by you. You may find that you enjoyed it and want to try another.

All the years I “did” art I was afraid to try portraits. While my artist mother can still teach me I am trying to learn a little about portraiture and practice!

I hope you’ll try something you’ve never tried before.

Water #poetry #drought #Uganda

one blue cup each

flows easily through her hands

dry river beds

laughter’s pure reflection

sing song they learn A B Cs

*

so young to be old

internal Acholi’s strength

Nile clouds my vision

*

If I share a handful of their giggles, would you share a handful of precious water?

This week’s  Word Press photo challenge is Reflections

and Reflections at Weekly Tanka Prompt

Uganda Montage #atozchallenge #Acholi #Uganda

Pop the bubble

passages of time

stop on the Nile

heart memories rewind

not much more can be said about this beautiful place and the people we love!

Thank you to A to Z challenge for giving the opportunity to share about Uganda and the Acholi people.

Freedom’s Dawn #Easter #Poetry

breaking through clouds look through storm clouds

beauty to behold

colors of the rainbow

mercy to unfold

hold not to the dark

open up your heart

before the Lord seek freedom

make a fresh new start

*

nightingale’s song

 lily raises its pure face

morning glory

*

Easter is a time to be reminded of Christ’s sacrifice and renewed. But we can hold back and lay roots of rot and resistance. It is not God who holds back His goodness. We are the ones who chose not the beauty of salvation’s grace.

 

Time Passing #poetry #writing #photography

childs viewpoint

The next generation buzzed about

one pre-adolescent squawked off-key

trying their hand at being grown up

our children even in sorrow bring us glee

stories of when they were young

little gazes adoration filled

I miss little hands in mine

I still hear a faint giggle

we are here to honor our father

how many gatherings did he watch

things will never be the same

 the family’s protective hawk

we share laughter and tears

they fledge and time passes

parents impotent to protect

the merry go rounds go faster

we sit thinking of the past

telling stories of when they were young

look behind one brief moment

his shadow all alone

*

I wish you knew him

broken people held in rough hands

maintained order

Poets United Midweek Motif is “Parenting.” We just spent the past weekend celebrating the rich life of my father-in-law who spent his life serving in international disaster relief. We knew many of the stories still it was good to hear that he was loved and respected no matter where he went. We had lots of time for reflecting on the past and parenting as the children circled our chairs.

 

 

Life’s A Beach… #poetry #summer

 plans for picnic takes a child’s mind

whole wheat  slathered with mayo

fresh turkey, lettuce, tomato

a pickle happily on the side

*

golden potato salad, olives and egg

savory tastes never sweet

in my favorite penguin bowl

no one’s looking, sneak a taste

*

where did my picnic manners go?

I look for right utensils and plates

blue and white check for occasions

tied up in a red ribbon bow

*

grab the basket, can’t be late

2 many memories,  meld just 1

run down 50 stairs

I’m hurrying please wait

*

singing songs in the back seat

new Mustang with the top down

wind whips our hair in a tangle

anticipating a day at the beach

*

Orange disk Frisbees fly

sand castles lose the seige

caught in the  sea’s undertow

too sunny a day to cry

*

Hungry, I crunch mayo and sand

those pebbles (like ants ) unwelcome guest

nothing can ruin this day

replay it in my eight track again

 

On a warm day where the air conditioning is our natural sea/bay weather, most of civilization seems to jump in the car for the beach. As a child (and adult) nothing can ruin the day.

Poet’s United is packing their baskets for fine poetry about – Picnics.

What kind of picnic memories do you have?