Roses are red Violets blue Your loved ones Are remembering The day I married you! Roses are Red Violets blue now collected in my heart are memories of you Roses are red Violets indeed are blue I will stop by and blow a kiss to you Life does go on whether we like it or […]Read more "A Valentine for Late Hubby"
Fly, fly said the mother listing, fluttering giving everything she had One day, the wind at her back off she flew. Soaring slowly at first finding her way nature as her compass happily living her life. Sensed danger things not right fearful, fragile and unknowing the worst was yet to come. It happened. off guard […]Read more "The Cardinal"
Three takes Three weeks Three sisters Three geographical locations Three beautiful bouquets Three days of family stories Three delicious prepared-by-other dinner delights Three sweater give-aways Three prayers Three cheers for love An abundance of appreciationRead more "Three cheers for love"
Who is he? What does he know? Henry Wadsworth Longfellow? While habits unfamiliar, we find our way Each day different, “one day at a time”, we say. like the crystals in a kaleidoscope, one turn and the reaction unfolds. Silence from others, busily living as the world turns we carry on In case you were wondering, he is […]Read more "Change"
Copper garment, “Orange is the new black.” “Absolutely retro, yet undeniably modern.” “Is it a tunic or sweater?” Symbol of life change. Simple style while coping with the complicated. Vintage yarn at hand, modern technique repairing life lines. Busy constructing, resting to heal Strong statement, rebuilding strength. The tiger lilies recently transplanted in a courtyard […]Read more "Blooms of Copper"
Today was my sister’s Memorial. It brought family and friends together, Even friends from our childhood and colleagues from the past attended.. Sweet music, a quiet ambiance, and an Irish poem filled the air with remembrance of Emmy. I wrote and recited this poem. My Sister As a toddler, I was told she was special. Special? […]Read more "My Sister"
To be more or maybe less, there is an option neither to mingle nor disappear like in nonexistence stitch count, splat points, pace on a track, number of cardinals in a winter’s scene loved by dreamers there are those who believe Productivity, ambition, pride sing their praises of course, resting on one’s laurels is a way […]Read more "Numbers"
Not birthday, Not holiday. Not because you had to. Just a Note. From the heart These words came and are received. One of my favorite things in life are words Simple words, crafted with care meaningful to the receiver So thoughtful from the giver Just a note not to me best gift from one to […]Read more "Just a Note, Not"
“When I grow up I will have my own house.” Her inner voice would repeat “My own place, yes complete with a pet.” Her childhood dream. Closing the door to what ailed her, She wished away the years to adulthood She plotted, “Now I’ll sneak around. . . A little cape may do.” Marriage, children, work. Common living, The little house served […]Read more "Childhood Dream"
Howling in the morning blowing in the afternoon Winter of blustery wind I will remember you I listen for the rhythm of breathing as it informs a runner’s endurance unable to grasp its contents as Mother Nature has taken over Her noise becomes the norm tree tops dancing, daring to snap unsuspecting and interrupting the […]Read more "The Winter of Wind (and no snow)"
Pebble tossed in the water does not move yet its ripples reach wide and far Sometimes decisions are difficult to make While life continues in its fury. So, the yarn stash remains still Pattern overload in full throttle Blog shows lifeless While ideas are abundant Running clothes neatly folded Rather odd for ‘an athlete’ in […]Read more "Pebble in the Water"
It is supposed to snow in December a Winter Wonderland to unfold With winds expecting to blow The air meaning to be chilly. It is expected to honor the calendar The decorations to go up Lights to beautify and celebrate cleaning and preparations to be well underway During a holiday season. It is Nature’s way geese flying […]Read more "It Takes Time"