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My mother was an avid admirer of all creative art forms-music, dance, drawing, writing-anything to stimulate the mind
and express oneself. She herself was a pianist, and an informal writer and artist. I was encouraged by my mother
to explore all avenues of creativity. She was always open to learning. I hope I follow in her footsteps.
In loving memory of Helen E. Smith 1921-2002
Some days when life seems to get
My bones are stiff and sore.
My mind is not as quick to think,
As it used to be years before.
It takes more time to rise and walk,
My body moves so slow.
I have the desire to do many things,
But some days it’s difficult
I think back to many years gone
The places I did see,
I traveled and worked and earned
I was happy to just be me.
My partner and I we raised our children,
Teaching them valuable lessons.
Proudly we watched their accomplishments
Knowing we left an impression.
We worked and we saved for our dreams
to come true,
Having a set goal in mind.
We also took time to relax and enjoy,
Knowing we had lots of time.
But the years seem to pass so quickly,
I wonder where they have gone.
It seems like only yesterday,
Life portrayed a different song.
Today I continue to enjoy my life,
And live in the moment right now.
I may move a little bit slower,
But I manage to get by somehow.
Each day brings newness to the air,
I stop and look back for awhile,
As I see my reflection in my daughter’s
My life lives on, and I smile.
(This poem was written from
the thoughts & emotions expressed by mother) published in Cosmic Brownies by Sun
Rising Poetry Press, 5/05
I Felt My Heart Ache Today
I stared at the ornaments glistening before me,
Celestial lights feigned a brilliant dance about their presence.
As they sparkled with radiance and luster,
An intense fog shattered my consciousness.
I traveled the distance to a feeling,
One hidden and protected within my psyche.
The pang of truth enveloped my being,
Recognition conveyed my loss.
Tears seeped from my heart,
As the lump thickened in my throat.
I battled my sorrow,
The aching intruded my body,
As I stood frozen in regard.
I choked from the rupture of my grief,
Startled by its force, its power.
Pausing momentarily to renew,
I inhaled the breath of life.
Silently with heavy heart,
I fell to my knees.
Acceptance became my perception,
Assurance comforted my soul.
Embracing this moment and the hereafter,
I walked away, with solace in my heart.
in Cosmic Brownies, by Sun Rising Poetry Press, 5/05)
My Prayer for Today (Confidence)
grow in peace through my God.
will be lifted to a higher level through Christ
free to live, as God is always near me
not worry, for God tends all things.
I am protected.
go about my day in freedom, joy, and peace,
my God guides me in every way.
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Quietly elegant, a friendly demeanor,
A women of thought, an avid reader.
The one who answered, a heart broken call,
The one who mended, a knee from a fall.
A woman of spirit, of life and grace,
A lady who’d smile, with spark in her face!
A constancy of love, she would always exude,
No matter the circumstance, she was never rude!
A woman who lived life, with honor and love,
A woman who recognized, the spirit of the dove.
Kind and caring, so giving to others,
This dear one is known, as my friend and my mother.
The Goose that Should’ve Been Cooked
My mother was born in 1921, and grew up in a rural residential
area of a small coal region town. The school that she attended was approximately
five miles away, and in those days they really did walk to school. Her family
had a few farm animals consisting of chickens, two geese, and a goat. As she portrays it, life was much simpler “back
then.” There wasn’t a lot of automobile traffic and people were too
busy working to get into mischief. It was a time of simple enjoyments and pleasures,
and minimal pressures.
Every day she and her sister would leave through the front
gate of their property to go to school. It was routine. Part of that morning ritual was a temperamental goose. If
the goose had a mind to, she would sneak up behind my mother and aunt, and suddenly hiss and chase them. This ritual was always a surprise, as they never knew when the goose was going to appear. They tried to watch for her, but sometimes it seemed she would appear out of nowhere. Now as my mother explains it, geese supposedly “pack” a nasty bite if they get a good hold
on something, so it was always something they tried to avoid. As vigilant as
they were about watching for this goose, one morning the goose surprised my mother and aunt as they were walking through the
yard. Typically the goose would surprise them when there were close to the gate,
which afforded them the opportunity to exit through the gate, leaving the hissing “monster” on the other side. But this particular morning they were equidistant from the house and gate. On this
day, my mother “claimed” she wasn’t totally awake yet, so she was “not thinking clearly.” The goose surprised them in the center of the yard and as they ran, she gained speed
behind them. As the girls headed for the gate, my mother in her sleepiness (Ha!),
decided she would outsmart the goose, and turned suddenly, running the opposite way.
The goose became more charged and began flapping, hissing, and chasing her, leaving my aunt free to exit by the gate. Now my mother had a good lead on the goose and just when she thought she had outsmarted
the goose, she began to “loose steam.” My mother suddenly realized
her mistake. She was running UP hill, and of course the goose caught her, right
in the derriere. As she cried out in pain, arching her back, the goose released
its grip, and bit her again. Finally, my mother was “awake” and realized
she needed to escape, downhill. She turned quickly and ran toward the gate with
her sister yelling “Hurry! Hurry! She’s right behind you!” My mother says she felt the breeze of the goose’s wings flapping behind her,
until she finally exited through the gate. Breathless she looked at her sister. Her sister questioningly looked at her and asked, “Why would you run uphill?
You know that goose can fly!” As she stood their forlorn and rubbing her
sore derriere, she responded, “Not too bright, I guess.” She loved
to tell this story. (My mother had a great sense of humor, and
could always laugh at herself.)
What do I write? Poetry-inspirational, devotional, emotional, memoir/reflective, tributes, no horror. I also
write children's books, essays-commentary and creative non-fiction, a "little" short fiction stories, self-help, humor,
and just about anything that moves me. I attempt to "delve" into the deepest emotions of myself and
others when I write. I want to "capture" the real feeling of the expression, the intensity, the joy, the heartache,
and sometimes the humor.
"What you think in your mind...is true" -What Dreams May Come
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