Can’t Afford My Memories #poetry #photography

I drove by grandma and grandpas place

so many changes  hard to trace

a little girl where flowers bloom

eating ice cream by the light of the moon

music played all the seasons

I loved Rudolph for many reasons

love there didn’t need yeast

family gathered for every feast

today the house I cant afford

 rich with memory’s golden cord

 

Responding to the prompt Afford at The House of Bailey

 

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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.

 

 

The Journey Makes All the Difference #photochallenge

Always another bend in the road

before we reach those we love

always another step to take

before were are home

always another hill to climb

before we are here and safe

The Daily Post Photochallenge for this week is On The Way. What journeys do you experience on the way?

Time Passage #poetry

wright bro memorial
Wright Brother Memorial

I stood on the edge of the universe

stars within my grasp

reach for them I did

I never thought to ask

nudging my fingertips

a velvety lamb’s ear

in an old forgotten grotto

nature knows she is here

In the expanse of a gallery

the paint is still fresh

though the paintings are old

where I had my first test

hand-picked stone lined path

each flower has a name

crunch of  gravel so familiar

tho I am no longer the same

This place harkens to her footsteps

welcomes me anew

tho time has passed

memories like morning dew

I was taught from before I was able to talk the value of the elderly, the importance of honor, and the lessons I could learn if I listened closely. I am sad for a generation that places so little value for those past a certain age. Because of this attitude, there are lessons unlearned/ history unheard.

There is more reality than metaphor in this poem and a gratitude beyond expression that I hold for those who taught me to reach for the stars.

I’m also sharing a link to rewrite of a fictionalized story of an elderly patient – here

The prompt from Poets United Midweek Motif – “Choose an Elder to honor in a poem…”

Harvest Celebration #november #poetry #harvest

 

 all the machinery is oiled

 tucked away for another year

hands are chapped and stained

jeans are beyond repair

long lines of  jars

are waiting for papa

to put away

*

the air is filled with spice

and the kids are keen

tonight we bundle up

jars of corn,potatoes, and beans

 given as an offering

thrown into a  pot

 we hunker down with a cup

*

tear off some bread

cross-legged on the ground

some laugh others holler

the tractor pulls around

“come on kids time for a spin”

young and old

jump on the hay hauler

*

moonlight graces the fields

smiles on the hard work

and for another year

is pleased with our effort

the bonfire no longer shy

limbs and cornstalk fuel

meeting the night starry clear

*

sparks seem to fly

dessert cooks on the end of a stick

marshmallows with chocolate the best

children’s gooey  hands they lick

we look into year-end embers

packing up our memories

&  bid “goodbye” to another harvest

bonfire

 This weeks Poets United Midweek Motif celebrated the Bonfire. So whether its inspired by Guy Fawkes or a successful harvest gather round the fire.

Last year’s Harvest offering.