Blog Archives
Easter Past
Below is a blog I wrote last year. It touches my heart because it reminds me of Happy Easters long ago. I want to share it again.
Easter Past
Early Spring dew blankets the sleepy landscape
Tires crunch gravel in pursuit of Easter treasure
Wide eyed children scan for plastic colored eggs
Four to compete
Grandpa waits with bags in hand
Money filled eggs hidden high and low
Three boys and a girl will run the race
Four to compete
Ham in the oven kielbasa in the pot
Hot cross buns in the warmer
Tantalizing breakfast smells tease hungry athletes
Four to compete
Tension builds as we all assemble
No peeking, not fair scold the parents
A nonchalant glance, who’d notice
Four to compete
It’s time. The bags are passed
Three boys and a girl race through the yard
Snatching pink, blue, green and yellow
“Til they complete
The four dump their bags on the living room floor
Tear open the eggs to count their reward
Two tallies to take- most eggs and most money
More to compete
Starved from the contest, gastric juices flow
The sumptuous bounty spread on the dining room table
Ten crack eggs for a winner, eat what we lose
Hunger full-filled
The children are grown, gone to carve out their destinies
Grandpa and Grandma moved to angel’s realm
Parents remain to eat ham and crack eggs
Four to compete
Souls Unite
Darkest night
Souls unite
Melding minds
All mankind
Spirits passed
Souls recast
Godliness
Consciousness
Born of one
Father, son
Pre dawn light
Souls unite
Intruder
Nothing good, only bills, in the stack of yesterday’s mail I flipped through on my way back to the house. The Fall air was crisp. Columns of steam curled from the frost covered grass where rays of morning sun danced through the trees.
I sensed a presence long before I saw him blocking my path to the back door. Terror froze time. Our eyes locked. Does he smell my fear? I thought of running but there was no place to go. In seconds he could attack and I would be dead.
As if by an unspoken agreement of mutual respect, the bear turned to his right and lumbered down the hill to the next house. His slick black coat glistened in the sunlight when he stood on his powerful hind legs and shook the pear tree with his front paws until a shower of fruit fell at his feet. Like a toddler, he plopped on his bottom and ate the pears one by one until his belly was full.
That was my first encounter with the Granddaddy of black bears who caused the neighbors to buzz. Humans can purchase a piece of property, but do not own the Earth. Nature’s creatures roam free. Man is the intruder.
Young Hearts
Made of Gold
Two young hearts
Brave and bold
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Learn all day
Swim at night
Homework, play
Sleep, goodnight
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Competition
Keep the pace
Some are won
Race, race, race
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Two young hearts
Digging deep
To impart
Nothing’s cheap
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Set a goal
Give their all
Swim with soul
Then stand tall
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Two young pups
Taught their Gram
Don’t give up
Who I am
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Fight the fight
Write, amend
Overwrite
‘Til the end
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Two young hearts
Made of gold
Two young hearts
Brave and bold
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Soul Journey
How long I’m here
I do not know
To choose the path
On which to grow
One’s steep with rocks
and overgrown
The other flows
to parts unknown
My choice to float
the river’s race
Without a care
Or effort placed
But soon I find
I’m in a scrape
Rapids, boulders
There’s no escape
Learn to paddle
Find the courage
Steer my vessel
Dodge and portage
I’m here to learn
Life’s lessons taught
To grow my soul
To give it thought
I take the task
Where’er I roam
It’s mine, all mine
‘Til going home
Connected
Voicemail, email
Morning chores wait
Facebook, Twitter
I’m connected
Texting, Linking
Never see a face
Or touch a hand
But I’m connected
Day is done
Gone the sun
Missed its fiery rays
But I’m connected
Birds sang in chorus
Flowers flaunted brilliance
Did not hear or see
But I’m connected
Have I missed the moment
Pulse and palette
Abundant buffet
To be connected
My wheel of life
Unable to turn
One spoke unbalanced
To be connected
Sightless eyes open
Awakened, I
Taste, touch, smell, hear
To get connected
With my soul
Humanity
Life
Connection!
Chasing the Dream When Reality Bites
Our spirit longs deep within to reach out for today’s desire, the one condition that would bring happiness. The plan is to reach the goal by following the shortest distance between two points, a straight line. The course is set and the starting pistol fires.
When I was a child growing up in the 1950’s, a pre-electronic era when dinosaurs roamed the earth, or so it seems to my grandchildren, I played many board and card games. One that comes to mind is Mille Bornes, a French card game that is still being produced. The object of the game was to win a 700 mile road race. There were hazards, i.e. accident, out of gas and flat tire, that would delay the journey until a remedy card was found. I still remember my frustration to have one of these obstacles slow my progress.
Life is filled with blockades and the unexpected. As in the game of Mille Bornes, the race to the elusive goal has many detours. It is difficult to keep an eye on the prize when crisis and turmoil swirl at every turn. The tremors of despair shake our once firm foundations.
But there are pleasant surprises along the way as the petals of our personal blossom unfold. The key is to achieve balance. Find ways to feed your soul today. Do the simple things that bring joy. My husband loves to cook. My heart sings when I watch him put together a meal. It was only 3 short years ago when he was in the hospital being blasted by two forms of chemotherapy and on a lactose free liquid diet for 19 days as he battled leukemia. Today, after a bone marrow transplant, his zest for life is contagious.
Dreams are the seeds of creation. As we journey through life, we learn, grow, edit and take side trips. There are great gifts along the way if we are open to accept them. Keep the faith, shore up the foundations and keep moving forward. Life is ours to color. Today is a clean piece of paper. Color it any way that you want.
Pot of Gold
Lightening streaked across the western sky. Whitecaps smashed against Key West’s Sunset Pier. Thunder exploded deep into my bones. I shuddered, but kept a brave face. Within minutes it was gone, as quickly as it had come. Brilliant sunlight replaced the ominous black clouds. I looked to the East from the safety of my balcony retreat. A soft rainbow arch framed my world. I thought of the pot of gold waiting for me at the end of the rainbow. All my dreams would be fulfilled if I had that pot of gold.
How many of us race through life thinking we would be happy if we were thinner, wealthier, smarter or prettier, ignoring the gifts that are in front of our noses today? I am guilty of being blind to the beautiful roses at the edge of the deck, turning a deaf ear to the birds’ songs, opting to read a self improvement book instead of throwing the ball for the patient pup at my feet and taking for granted the gourmet meal the my husband created to please me.
My elusive pot of gold is intangible. It resonates in my soul. As I strive to learn and grow, I must never forget that with every breath I take, I am living the dream now in the world that I have created.
Key West- A State of Mind
Today I am writing from a hotel room in Key West, Florida. The air is hot and sticky, the water, an inviting turquoise. I have been here three days, but feel that I could meld into the landscape, a soul living the dream of creativity and barefoot freedom.
When the Boeing 737 screeched to an abrupt halt on the short runway and taxied to the terminal, I felt that I had arrived home. The sign read “Welcome to the Conch Republic.” The words rang true of what the United States was founded on, the beliefs of rugged individuals. It is a state of mind that I fear has been lost as our nation struggles to find equilibrium. Technology is taking us to unchartered waters where we marvel at the advances, but fear the loss of privacy. In search of political correctness, we often change laws for the few, forgetting about the rights of many.
Key West has a mix of culture, race and sexual preference where people live and let live with mutual respect. The hens run free and the roosters crow of independence. Tomorrow, I fly back to Connecticut. Besides the baggage I have carried for sixty-three years, I hope to bring back the flip-flop state of mind. Long live the Conch Republic!




