Blog Archives

Along the Shore

Crashing waves, I remember
Many walks along the shore
Hand in hand we strolled through life
Facing storms and sunny days

A double rainbow lights the sky
I see your gentle spirit
Telling me your love transcends
Sea and sand along the shore

Brilliant hues against dark sky
Errant waters lap my toes
Feeling close but far away
I walk with you along the shore

Sail on, my Captain

Sixteen years ago I wrote the following lighthearted poem in honor of my husband Roger and two friends, Roger and Mike, who raced our sailboat in the 1998 National Catalina Race held in Westbrook, Connecticut.  They took first for the tall rig division in all three races.  Yes, readers, the sailboat’s name was Sloopy, the inspiration for the fictional 36 foot sloop that Liz and Garret live aboard in Murder in Mystic, Murder in Newport and Two Headed Snake of Key West.  Our Sloopy was fast and my husband could make a mighty Margarita.

I am sharing this with you in memory of my husband, who passed away on July 1, 2014.  Sail on, my captain.

 

The pressure was on

To win a glass cup

Each silently prayed

He wouldn’t screw up

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The guy thing, you know

Machismo, at best

The challenge would come

They’d be put to the test

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The good Lord was laughing

As they hoisted the main.

These three would need blessings,

And more, it was plain

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Wine made from water

Was easy for sure,

But Roger, Mike, Roger

Three races endure?

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The task was immense

But these were nice guys

He raised His arms up

And Sloopy did rise.

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She raced to the finish

Three bullets to boot

Miracles do happen.

There’s proof in the loot.

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The lesson each learned,

To celebrate life

Believe in oneself

Be good to your wife.

Ten Fingers, Ten Toes

Ten little fingers, ten tiny toes

Delicate lashes,  two eyelids closed

Bundle wrapped tightly, snuggled to Mom

God’s gift, a wonder, miracle born

 

A soul enters Earth, parents to guide

Journey, learning, a lifetime of growth

Mother obsessing, teaching with love

Babe grabs her heart, never to part

 

Adulthood arrives, a man departs

With roots and wings gifted from home

Fly away, son, and make your own way

You know that I love you forever

 

Ten little fingers, ten tiny toes

Delicate lashes,  two eyelids closed

Bundle wrapped tightly, snuggled to me

Thanks for two gifts, for I am called MOM

 

 

 

 

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

FreeVector-Heart-Vector-CartoonTwo 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!

 

Beloved Sloopy

Fiberglass, aluminum and sailcloth are the bones, but the spirit lives in the heart of anyone who sailed her.  Sloopy is the 36 foot sailboat in the Liz Adams Mysteries, Murder in Mystic and Murder in Newport.  She is named after the 30 foot Catalina Tall Rig that my husband, Roger and I sailed for 14 years.  Initially docked in Westbrook, Connecticut, she spent most of her days with us in the homeport of Mystic, Connecticut.  As in fiction, Sloopy was our water home and carried us to adventure in New England waters.  Our boys, Scott and Ron, then 17 and 14 respectively, named her.  A combination of the lovable Charles Schulz beagle, Snoopy and the two sail sloop design, the handle, Sloopy, stuck.

The time we spent on Sloopy was priceless.  It took us away from a hectic lifestyle as owners of a popular photography studio to a world where time stood still.  We enjoyed our sons and their friends without the distractions at home.  Meals shared in the cockpit as the sun slipped into the sea are forever burned into memory.  Lifelong friendships were forged with other boaters.

Sloopy is a Champion.  In 1998, she won the National Catalina 30 Tall Rig Cruising Class race in Westbook, Connecticut.

Sadly, we sold Sloopy in 2002, but she continues to be the inspiration for the Liz Adams Mystery series.  More to come.