Tag Archives: poetry

The Rifle Shell

23 Wednesday Mar 2022

Posted by in Family, Reflections

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“This is my commandment that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one’s life for his friends.” John 15:12-13

In this first hour of March 23, 2022, I find no sleep so I may as well write. It would be my brother’s sixtieth birthday, the first since his passing. I suppose I will always feel protective of his memory just as I feel I should have been protective of him in childhood. I’ve written the following in observation of his birthday, and in honor of his proudest moments. If it sounds sad, it’s because I am sad he left so soon. Life can be sad, but life is still good, and he’d be the one to say, “Oh well…”.

THE RIFLE SHELL

A VFW gun salute shakes the silence of the air,

and over the flag covered casket is said a final prayer.

Lil’ Brother, a dad, a friend laid to rest

wearing his dress blues, the sun in the west.

Memories fill our hearts and flood our eyes

as the shots ring toward the cold blue sky.

A brass shell casing picked up from the ground

has a design inside where six points can be found.

I see one point for the courage to say “I will”

and one for the sacrifice because the risk is real.

One point stands for loyalty to country and brother,

and one for humility, heroes they claim, is someone other.

One point is for pain, in body and mind

as they endure training and leave home behind.

The last point, for loneliness, though in a sea of the same –

where all wear proudly a common name –

yet all left all familiar to them alone. And now once again he travels on.

Heroes don’t always die in active duty. They may bring home a scarred heart and torn life they die trying to paste back together again. Still others survive to live out a full and beautiful life, and become someone else’s hero. Thank you to Mark and all service men and women for your courage, sacrifice and loyalty to country and each other. I am sorry for the pain and loneliness you felt, and the humility with which you carried it all. Even though Mark isn’t here, I couldn’t let his “big six-o” go by without a special “Happy Birthday”. Love, Sis

NICE DAY!

25 Monday Mar 2019

Posted by in Children, MONDAY MUSINGS

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“CHILDREN ARE A BLESSING AND A GIFT FROM THE LORD.” (PSALM 127:3) CEV

I used to think that verse meant one’s own children, but after watching a couple of generations growing up, I realize it is certainly not a blessing exclusive to the parents. Littles of our friends and relatives, or even a toothless smile from a shopping cart at a much-needed time, can just MAKE. YOUR. DAY!! Right?

As much as I feel “nearer to God in a garden”, I know where you really can get as close to the heart of God as anywhere this side of Heaven – sitting with a three or four-year old!

Three year old Grayson, one of my great nephews, found Spring peeking into the back door of Winter, and able to go outside after a nasty round of influenza A, was observed enjoying his own blessing. Kids are the best at observation and appreciating!! At three and a half now, he is so old and accountable that he is allowed to go into their fenced backyard by himself. Last week his daddy shared with me what his neighbor observed as the door slid shut between Grayson and his grownups. He said the boy looked each way, taking it all in, then proclaimed in as manly a voice as possible, “Nice Day!” Knowing a thing or two about this little guy, I wrote the following for Grayson.

GRAYSON

As in any good family yard, we have many things to do. There’s mud for playing, and a dog, uh-oh, what’s on my shoe? Toys, a trampoline, a slide and swing set; I can’t wait to play ball, but it’s not summer yet. The neighbor is grilling, but I am not. Dad said we’d play – I think he forgot. No flowers yet to pick, nor grass for bare feet, but with that bright sunshine, life is sure sweet! A look to the left and a look to the right, I breathe in the air and I feel alright! Not a worry in my pocket, just one thing to say, with a nod to my neighbor, I shout, “NICE DAY!”

Yes, children are a blessing for a number of reasons. They ground us, in more ways than one! Getting my head out of the air and back down to basics is one of the best reasons for being around them. God said “…But to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God” (Micah 6:8b) Who is more honest than a three or four-year-old? Who  needs more mercy than a little child? Humility – oh my, they are the best at that! They have no other choice, being so dependent on all of us. They are the best reminders of how God wants us to be.

Then Jesus called a little child to Him, set him in the midst of them and said, “Assuredly, I say to you, unless you are converted and become as little children, you will by no means enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself as this little child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven”. (Matthew 18:3-4) NKJV

Part 2 of  “Nice Day” is taking form already as I recall several other touching or funny ways our “Littles” have blessed us.  They really do say the funniest things! So, bye for now, I hope your Monday is going just right! See you back here in two weeks, with a few quotes from Katja, Isabella, Alan, Sara, and more!

 

 

Tranquility: Stillness to Experience More

16 Wednesday Sep 2015

Posted by in Faith, Nature, Reflections

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Sunday, September 13, 2015

Anyone in western Kentucky is enjoying one of those days that is simply indescribable. Worship, rest, play, visit, work – whatever we are doing today, is a notch better than usual due to the combination of warm sun and cool breeze. This is the time of year, as I’ve always said, when I come to life and my writing picks up a little. After church I made a small lunch and we hit the patio chairs for a sunny snooze. (Boy are we getting old or what?) After an hour or so – who’s counting? – my writer’s bug bit me, and here it is.

Monday, September 14, 2015:  OK, rather than remain seated yesterday to finish writing, I chose to call for a couple of bright-eyed fellow fun-lovers to finish off that scrumptuous slice of day. Knowing my younger great-niece wanted to learn to ride her bike without training wheels, I ended up with two giggling little girls and running a “keep up with the wobbly bike” marathon. I really didn’t think I could run any more than a few feet, but when a five-year old trusts you to catch her, you run along side for all you’re worth! It now comes to me that the rest and meditation earlier in the afternoon prepared me for the run of the day. Aha, Lord, I believe I see yet another everyday proof of your wisdom! The more we stop to meditate on your word, storing up your truth, donning the whole armor of God as in Ephesians 6: 10-20, the more we are able to withstand, persevere, and become ambassadors for the gospel of Christ in this race of life.

Perhaps, at this point I want to insert what I wrote Sunday as I sat with my husband after lunch.

I know I should be doing something, but I am completely mesmerized by this day.

I’ve watched the tufts of white clouds which appeared as hypnotized as I, slip magically away.

We’ve basked ourselves in the perfectly warm sun, and cooled under the umbrella, with the breeze.

I’ve listened to that first faint rustle of the drying pre-autumn leaves.

We watched the busy hummingbirds chase each other away, sip and chat loudly – proclaiming victory or daring others to play.

The cat is just as contented as I to merely watch the butterflies ; and I hear my husband whisper ‘thank you Lord’ resting body, mind and eyes.

So, a deep breath again, I enjoy the aroma of a distant tobacco barn in the sweet cool September air,

As I watch a little brown and yellow moth explore my hand, test and taste without a care.

He now perches on my pen as I dawdle, and then write (for that is what I do);

And I think to myself, for all of this and so much more, Heavenly Father I thank you!

 The cat now ready to do life again pounces on a grasshopper, and I’m entertained by the two.

My husband, now strengthened from his rest, gone to whatever he had to do.

Like the Lord’s sabbath and His will for us so still to be

and know that He is God, must be why He provided such a day of tranquility.

“Be still and know that I am God;” Psalms 46:10

“Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight oh Lord my strength and my Redeemer.” Psalms 19:14 (emphasis mine)

“The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament shows His handiwork…” Psalms 19:1

Wednesday, September 16, 2015    Today would have been my Mama’s 84th birthday. She had a bitter-sweet taste for these beautiful days of Fall. She had loved this time of year so much, then she lost her daddy in October and later her mother and sweet sister in two years of Septembers. Fall took on a cloak of sadness for her; although she still was comforted by the beauty in it. So today Mama, I know you feel the warmth and bliss that you once did on days like this; when you were young, full of faith and hope. But now young forever, knowing now the one in whom your faith took hold, and all your hopes now live fulfilled. I’m so blessed to be your daughter, and a daughter of the King who created all this that is good.

Late Summer

15 Tuesday Sep 2015

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The westerly breeze calls me, the chimes play my song;
I find I am drifting and playing along.
Pouffy white clouds sail the blue sky seas;
Cat’s playing in the Stellas, the sun’s on my knees.
Sleepy sets in and there’s so much to do!
But a moment of meditation is good for you.
The swing gently sways, pushed by the wind.
Heavy eyes and thankful heart bring my verse to an end.

written last summer/fall  P.Ward

CLOSE OF AN AFTERNOON RAIN

30 Sunday Aug 2015

Posted by in Nature, Poetry

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Ending things has never been my cup of tea. All of my life, I hated for parties, sleep-overs, and movies to end. I cried at the end of each stage of my children’s lives, although I knew full well those were perfectly healthy normal milestones. I cried on the last day of my just retired from position at the hospital. I should have been skipping and giggling all the way out. But, no, with tear brimmed eyes I turned in my  badge to the operator after clocking out, fumbled my belongings out to the car, and felt lonely. Going home to a house full of love and excitement at my being able to turn the page and retire, I was weary from a very long exhausting day, and yes, sad; for an ending, I guess. And here we are at the end of another season. Summer on August 30, is pretty much ending. When most people are hailing the end of seasons, I am clinging to all the ‘but I wanted to do this, or that and time is flying’ clichés.

One thing I have been encouraged to do in retirement is to spend more time writing. Partly because those dears know me and like my writing, and partly because it (my writing) has much improvement to take on, and practice makes perfect, right? I have been overwhelmed with the idea of so much to do, the closing of summer, so many people to see and get to do things with, and taking on part-time positions. Yes, busy people just stay busy, and it’s always going to be that way. So, I have been avoiding the urge to write. Until today. We needed a rain as there had been a small dry spell, and obviously I needed a rain to lubricate my writing hinges. It began to rain as I was in the midst of grading care plans for the students in the obstetrical clinical I have agreed to teach.  Soon I found myself moving out onto the front porch swing for a break. Most of the lightning and thunder was over as was the downpour, but the sounds of the tapering off triggered that writer’s need to put it into words.

Phrases to describe the sounds began tripping through my mind and the following poem was the result.

Trickling water sounds through the metal downspout,

Thunder rumbling farther away,

Hissing car tires make that splashy sound,

Drippity drops of nearly stopped rain.

Bold little croak of a nearby toad

and some flying creatures test the air;

The sky is getting lighter, puddles shine wider

Dampness crawls onto the porch to share.

Gently a breeze stirs the water laden trees

And the windchime makes a timid ting-ding.

A constant faint drizzle and a crow calls o’er the way,

A new dong with the ting-a-ding rings.

Blooms bob their heads as tiny drips fall

as if to be nodding adieu.

The freshness remains – an unnamed fragrance –

And the late summer rain has moved through.

 May you have a love wrapped ending to your summer, friends, as we look forward to that breathtaking joy we call Autumn. God is so good. Trisha

COFFEE ON THE WESTSIDE

25 Monday May 2015

Posted by in Nature, Reflections

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A deer crosses our field of young soybeans just about 20 yards from where I sit drinking an evening cup of Maxwell House, watching what is left of the sunset and a hummingbird taking one last drink. He’s in no hurry nor am I in a hurry to see the day end. I realize the cicadas have gone to sleep or whatever cicadas do when they quiet down. I feel a nice peaceful wrap sliding around my shoulders, with a bit of a chill in the evening air. It is late May, and the weather is damp and cool, more so than we expect at this time of year. The evening birds sound louder than they do when the day life is busily competing for attention. A frog of some sort croaking just beneath the porch rail  where I sit startled me, and I giggled as he and another farther out took turns calling back and forth.

This is Memorial Day, and I have been mindful today of the sacrifices made by the many men and women, and their families, to promote peace and freedom in our country. Without them in our ever-changing history, it is doubtful that I would have the luxury of taking in this evening in such a way. Thank you so very, very much. My heart is prayerful for all who have and are now serving our country.

Since the weather reminds me of the cool rainy season we normally have in April, my mind turns to an April day several years ago when I was riding with my husband on one of his ventures for farm equipment. He likes the company and help with maps and such, and I like the time to write, or read, or work crossword puzzles; so many are the times we’ve struck out on excursions looking for some truck or piece of farm machinery he has found in a publication or online. Anyway, one day in particular stands out in memory because of the striking glow of redbud trees in the wooded countryside. I recall writing a silly little poem about the portrait of Spring. Nature is the most poem-triggering inspiration for me.

It is dark now, my coffee cup is empty and the birds have also gone to nest I suppose for I cannot hear anything but frogs and other night sounds whose names I don’t know. I am going inside to relinquish another day, and to look for that old poem.

Found it, fiddled around with it a bit, and here it is:

PORTRAIT OF SPRING

Redbuds, popping out in vibrant lilac splashes,

on a quiet wooded, expectant canvas,

Soon to be joined by fancy whites and fresh new green

worked into the portrait of another Spring.

Redbuds, with humble unfrilled ease

pull the eye to the blur of late winter trees.

A glow at the edge of a dark rainy day –

They’re waiting for Dogwoods to come out and play.

Dogwood, a name for lacy young ladies in pink and white

who’ll come into their own over cool April nights.

Dogwoods, spreading their arms, hands joined in games

are allowed a short time for song and play

under thickening green mesh arbors of home

until they have leaves and shade of their own.

Redbuds and Dogwoods in unison sing,

“we’re the prettiest part in the picture of Spring”.

My mind with its business and day-to-day run,

stops in awe at what the Artist has done.

And as the years slip by with their speedy endeavor

I look forward to their portraits more eagerly than ever.     P.Ward

Suddenly I’m a girl of 9 or 10 years old again, joining hands in circle with the other girl scouts in my troop. I hear us singing, “Day is done, gone the sun, from the hills, from the (trees?) from the sky. All is well, safe at rest, God is nigh”.  I haven’t heard that song in way too long…Good night friends.