Doing dishes dulls my day,
Makes me cranky, sad and blue;
How I wish they’d go away—
I’ve got better things to do.
For nearly half a century I have soaked up life’s messes.
My surface is ragged, stained, and worn
From years of use
I have carried a weight that was not my own
So some weaker vessel might not feel the burden.
Three sisters have I.
We all are the same, only different.
We all are leaves.
We bud, shiny and green, wrinkly and curled up.
We stretch out and face the sun for a day or so.
We tremble in the wind.
We hang our heads low when the rain comes.
We wither and fade.
We fall to the ground, and then—
We return to the dust from which we came.
reprieve from chilling winds
blossoms steal the rainbow from the sky
sunlit canopy and cool breezes
aging leaves dignify the landscape
respite from oppressive heat
My garden’s a place where
I take in the fresh air,
Follow the butterfly
With silent, watchful eye,
Note with small levity
Each flower’s brevity,
Listen to birds singing,
Watch them in sky winging
Playfully tree to tree—
God cares for them and me.
Matthew 10:29,31 Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father. Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows.
My knuckles are big.
They hurt when I do the mending.
I can’t grow my fingernails long.
They click when I play the piano.
I went to the Door to walk the Dog,
But Dog wouldn’t goo.
Dog has four legs; I have but two.
My mother is calling me, what shall I do? Continue reading
Teaching, learning, reading
Pencils, pens and books
The day the towers came down
Will long be remembered