Marjolijn was finally going to see a concert
her friend was going with her (Gert)
But lo and behold, Marjolijn got rickets
and then lost her tickets
she’ll have to go back to digging in the dirt
Marjolijn was finally going to see a concert
her friend was going with her (Gert)
But lo and behold, Marjolijn got rickets
and then lost her tickets
she’ll have to go back to digging in the dirt
There she was, skipping rope
She always had a lot of hope
That she could do everything just fine
Except maybe to go in a mine
And she didn’t know how to mope
“Odd and Strange”
My goodness, what are these?
They are nothing but rot
Esteemed they are not
Much like snot
that’s their lot
up the creek without a paddle
shake, roll and rattle
for me to be serious today is quite a battle
I leave you with this
this you wouldn’t want to miss
I pull you out of the abyss
so you can hiss
at your silly friend Niss
Today I turn the “podium” over to my friend Erik Andrulis from http://erikandrulis.wordpress.com. I am thrilled that he shares such a wonderful memory…
I found this poem, “Warm from Cold,” in my notebook as dated 1/18/88. However, I think the original version of this poem dates back to 1986. The poem tells the story of a common occurrence when I was a child – my mother sending me out into the cold—out to play in the snow—only to have her welcome me back into the warm: in front of the fire, the warm hot chocolate, the warmth of her love.
” Warm from Cold”
Covered with a scratch wool scarf,
an itchy wool hat,
(that the moths had never reached),
two unmatched mittens,
scritchy stretchy socks,
with sandwich baggies over them
(so my socks and toes wouldn’t get wet),
rubber golashes with metal clasps,
shoulder-strap ski pants,
and broken zippered jacket
held together by safety pins
(broken in by my brother),
my mother sent me out—
into the pouring snow,
to prance, to parade, to frolic
in blissful pageantry,
to roll, to throw, to build
with eternal creativity—
only to return
to a state of time,
soaked and frosty
from head to toe.
She would then proceed
to peel off my layers,
wrap me in a warm blanket,
sit me down before
the crackling, sparkling, warming fire,
give me graham crackers
and hot chocolate
with tiny marshmallows
served on that old wooden tray,
then sit down beside me
read me a book
tell me she loved me
thaw me close
and rock me to sleep.
This poem makes me want to go play in the snow! I think a poem is truly successful when it brings the reader back in time where one can experience all their senses through the poem’s words, such as this one. Thanks for guesting today, Erik! 🙂
Hello dear friends,
Guess what? My blog Sunshine Factor turns one year old on August 18th! I’m already getting sentimental about it. I hold you all close to my heart, and this has been a really significant year for me. Hence, I give you a poem:
You’re far away
but you’ll always be near
how can this be so
Hearts can transcend the miles
it matters not how far
it only takes two people
or a whole blogging community
to get your heart filled up
and bring sunshine to the shadows
You love to write
I love to read and write
so we’re a good friend match
Know that you’ll always be near
the miles don’t matter
hearts simply thrive
in the knowledge of each other
Thank you for being here for me
I’m so thankful I even can be
If ever you need me
remember I’m just a heartbeat away.
With gratitude, peace, love and laughter,
I used to practice different forms of poetry on Saturdays. Today I am going to use the simple style of no punctuation whatsoever. My free form poetry tends to run this way, but I think it will be hard not to stick some punctuation in here and there. I’ll even say: no capital letters except for the title. Hmm, I sense a story coming on….
i had a beautiful dream this morning
where i was on a highway riding a bike
yet it was a bike that had a steering wheel
as i steered all i could see was the beautiful sky
during my favorite part of the morning
early dawn with pinks and blues and teals
i couldn’t see the road
and hoped to god that i would not crash
then i wondered what would sentences do
if they did not have punctuation
would life be an aimless adventure
like in my dream
the punctuation marks all came to my mind
and stood like a small army
they took on human characteristics
and i got to know them more fully
the period was a travel agent
he said you have to get done seeing one country
before you pass into another
the question mark raised her eyebrows
indicating her questioning nature
the semi colon was a pair of twins
the period and the comma wondered why
they could not be one mark or another
the quotation marks
were the opera singer’s arms
as she stuck them out wide with a flourish
to announce a coming high note
felt from the heart and voiced with the lips
felt like rubber duckies on a conveyer belt
the series of words or list of words they surrounded
just kept coming and coming and coming
the colon was a football coach
who announced the coming plays
when he did this you knew you should pay attention
the asterisk was a detective
first he had you read one clue
and then find him at the end
where he would give you the explanation or meaning
of what went down
The parentheses were a comedian
who explained things
so you could get the jokes
that my friend is
what i saw some punctuation marks as
if i left some out
please grace us with your vision
of the forgotten ones
the only capital letters
i had to make lower case
were my i s.
Please note: next Saturday, August 10, Sunshine Factor will welcome a guest poet to our Poetry Saturday. You won’t want to miss it!
Here I sit
waiting for inspiration
No – I don’t knit
maybe I need a vacation
I do love rhymes
lovely as chimes
I have nothing to say
it’s a very strange day
C’mon Mr. Muse
give me some news
What shall I write about?
I’m usually wordy, there’s no doubt
This week’s poem will use personalization of an inanimate object AND be written with a song melody in mind. See if you can figure out what song was on my mind when I wrote this!
I long to have you!
Go away, you toothless menace!
You bother me
and give me headaches
Go away and I’ll be healthy now
and no more tummy aches, either.
Today’s poetry style will use similes: comparisons of the qualities or attributes of two things, usually using ‘like’ or ‘as’.
The moon is like the sun
both are adored and studied by many
Love is like hate
both are very strong emotions
Debb is as funny
as a clown whose pants fall down
are like beautiful stars at night
as breathtaking as beauty
and each shining and sparkling in their own way
it’s been here a lot lately
and even the earthworms have noticed
They get flooded out of their homes
under the grass
and come up to the roadside to breathe
Why do they not stay at the side of the street
and congregate together as if waiting for a bus?
Perhaps they think the dirt is more dry
across the street
They run the risk of being flattened by others
but they inch along anyway
These little guys deserve some credit
they aerate the dirt where they live
and are like little gardeners in their own right
Their homes are in danger of being washed out
but still they keep plodding along
Maybe we can take a lesson
from these simple, linear creatures
Today’s poem will use neologisms (invented new words).
The kids discovered a new type of plaything
They were called grumpthings
who lived at the edge of town
in the entrance of a cave
The grumpthings were like tall trolls
with piercing and small eyes instead of large
The grumpthings were furry
and, when touched, they seethed and spit
Maybe they wouldn’t want to play with the kids after all
and it seemed like they didn’t want to be looked at either
The grumpthings eventually indicated to the children
that they wanted to play ooingasasana
Each child snapped their fingers and pointed at a grumpthing,
“their” grumpthing would then go to the top of the child’s head
and rest on it
holding on with his owl-like claws
Six children, six grumpthings, and six hours later
the furry creatures grew wings and flew out of the cave
The ooingasasana game
had given the children the ability to grow wings too
The children flew home
before their parents could hear about
the grumpthings, their strange little game
and their strange looks
It’s the end of the week again
I am feeling better and on a stronger path
There’s lots of hope for the future
as the sun remembers to come out
and I forge ahead
Sweet are the days of a weekend
thinking of the possibilities puts me at bliss
I will savor and live it to the full
as I thankfully am NOT in a black abyss
It occurs to me
I could live in a tree
but then I wouldn’t be able to sleep
because the dark outside would be way too deep.
I could live in a rustic cabin
but my conscience would be a’jabbin’
I like to be home for my hubby and cats
at home you can never have too many welcome mats.
I could live anywhere, I guess
but it sure would be a mess
not to have a place I belong to
where I can appreciate the dew
Hope this finds you happily adjusted, wherever you live. 🙂
WHAT MOST OF US LIKE
They say coffee gets them going
and with writers, their thoughts start flowing.
Me? I don’t like the stuff
Water, milk and juice is enough.
Sugar is what I am quite attracted to,
sweets for the sweet, they say ~~
Giving sugar up is very hard to do
Having fun with sugar is my way to play.
Salt is what some people crave
the road to a higher blood pressure, it will pave.
It gives meals a taste to savor ~~
and you don’t even have to waiver.
Nothing is bad if done in moderation —
that’s a right dandy quotation.
However, as I try to learn this small trick,
I feel like a sad, water-logged candle wick.
THE WORLD OF DANCE
jump for joy!
can you do this at a hot spot?
but don’t let your legs rot.
until the music halts.
Dance like no one’s looking
when waiting for your next booking.
We’ll say, “I remember when
he started dancing in his den.”
I’ve made a mess of this
Please forgive your sis
when she’s a Silly Millie.
If you ask me, I’d rather be writing
I’m not into fighting.
To write is the greatest thing in the world
Let the flags be unfurled.
It is important to find your place
whether it’s running a country or running a race.
To be who you are meant to be
Is for everyone my humble plea.
Remember you have power
even in the shower
to hear your heart’s call
and for nothing less fall.
THE STRANGE PALACE
The family who lived in the palace was weird
but that is because their memory was seared.
They were also a strange lot –
the family that time forgot.
The king was very jolly
born around the time of Hi Ho and Holly.
He loved his wife
although she caused him strife.
She had a constant laugh like a cackle,
so into her mouth he poured some spackle.
The king’s daughter was named Heather
she was petite and light as a feather.
But her face was scary
so she would never marry.
Herbert was the king’s son
who refused to be outdone.
He tied up his nanny
and put her out on her fanny.
(His timing was uncanny.)
Oh yes, there was a court jester
who let his anger fester.
He grabbed his good mead
and jumped on his steed.
Not remembering his past
in this loony bin he would not last.
The cook served the royalty
but they sure knew about spoility.
He couldn’t stand them anymore
so fed them a boar
drizzled with poison right down to the core.
So, you may ask, why did the palace
contain so much malice?
They finally figured out
and really, without a doubt,
that they really were not royalty.
Their time on vacation
was quite a narration
as their minds they lost
and there, their memories were tossed.
CAT STORY: RACHAEL AND THE TURKEYS
You remember that Rachael is our newest cat?
She is very small and classier than the Cat in the Hat.
Every early morning she rushes to her favorite place
to see her favorite wild turkeys almost face to face.
Almost all year three tom turkeys stroll past
and look for food by our front deck.
Lately the hens hang out, they make their visit last
and watch the tom with the scrawny neck.
The hens could about Tom care less
Even as he puts on his courting show.
His tail feathers fan out for who he admires, Bess,
He really hopes she won’t say no.
Today Tom again came calling
but lo, his confidence is falling.
The hens had already come and gone,
They weren’t interested in his feathery brawn.
Rachael waits for the hens to come back,
she seems to be on their side.
She’s concerned about the hens and their lack
and wants her Mama to bring them inside.
FOR THE LOVE OF POETRY
Poetry, we hail thee
as the messenger of good
the comfort of the ages
to whom we can go
with our pithy problems.
We can read thee
and never again be the same.
We can write poetry
and really notice a change.
I love you,
I devour you,
my thoughts are always on you.
My muse knew what she was doing
when she pointed the way
back in time to a little girl
rhyming and writing at a very young age,
for now I again need you
for full expression of everything inside me.
SPRING WHERE I LIVE
and the slight slopes and hills of my neighborhood
are covered half in white, half in green
The ice is finally melting
and by my office window
pitter pats of departing ice
Cardinals and crows call out
the former’s voice is grand
The robin has not arrived yet
Maybe this year she is as fickle
as the weather.
Spring, you are taking so long
and have prolonged our agony
we will be so glad when you
melt all our snow
even if you are way past your official starting date.
Welcome, rebirth and renewal!
Welcome to the revisitation of
sunshine – the kind that brings warmth.
You make us smile.
Today I will write a poem using the style of giving a personality to an inanimate object. (A good example of this can be found in the Bible (in Proverbs) where wisdom is referred to as a “she”.)
How fair among flowers you are, Daisy,
for you never cease to be cheerful.
You are the brightness to my dark
and giggles to counteract my sighing.
You prove over and over again
that most things are like the ugly duckling.
Your stem is drab and sticky,
but your face is pretty,
Upon sight of you I smile.
Sometimes you are are called a “painted daisy”
like my grandmother grew in her garden,
but you are usually like a white-adorned bride.
Your fragrance is delicate,
sometimes not even there,
but never overpowering;
sweetness at its most beautiful best.
I can see why you’re related to the sunflower
your middle section a beautiful yellow-gold.
Your petals grow starting at your center
and they pass on the joy from there.
I admire you and have for years,
you and Tulip being the only flowers I ever drew.
I hope to pass on your sunshine
as you keep on encouraging me to never give up hope.
Love and hate
for the latter, let us be late
Short and tall
to be yourself, there is no law
Bright and faded
let us not become jaded
Fast and slow
On all of us, harsh winds blow
Bold and scared
some feelings should be aired
Tried and true
I do love you.
Today Sunshine Factor welcomes my friend Tom Lucas to the writing board. I really appreciate his poetry because it lets me know that I’m not the only one who thinks and feels like I do…
It’s Hard to Move Slowly
I was in Cape Canaveral driving
Headed to a housewarming
Not sure where I was going
The first time driving somewhere
Is always a bit irritating.
Silence, looking for the turn
GPS barks “turn right”
So I do. It’s not the
Right turn at all.
I turned right, but it wasn’t right.
It was some dead-end RV park
As dead as Cape Canaveral dreams.
Ratty metal boxes, and a single dirt road
I wanted out fast, but had to go slow.
Stupid 5 mph speed limit in the joint.
I can’t go 5 miles per hour.
I can’t even sit at 5 miles per hour.
So I didn’t. I needed to get back on track.
Then, from somewhere unseen
A voice yells, “SLOW DOWN!”
This is how you spend your day?
I’m not even supposed to be here.
This wasn’t my choice of destination.
Part of me wanted to stop the car and smack this guy.
Instead, I kept going and eventually
Made it out and to the party.
But I thought about that voice
And who was behind it.
A lone guardsman against perceived chaos.
Sitting deep in a sea of aging tin cans
Retirement plans choked by weeds
A sad dirt road winding through them
On a chair, staring at the blankness of it all.
I never want to be that guy.
by Tom Lucas
ABOUT THE POET:
Tom has a blog on WordPress – check out http://readtomlucas.com. His latest book Leather to the Corinthians premiered on 12/12/12 to the excitement and applause of many. He continues to teach, is hard at work on his next book, and still offers his unique commentaries.
The cardinal mom cries
she’ll have to say her goodbyes
to her little peeps that need her.
It is so cold, here in the north
when sleet, rain, hail and snow
all come at once.
The cardinal family’s legs
are all so spindly
and their feathers pretty thin.
God of the heavens where I fly,
why is it already time to die?
My babies are much too young
to get along without me now
Please help me find a snow-covered little den
where I can house my beloveds.
Keep them safe and warm
when I fly back to You, my Creator.
The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh.
Please give them a good mom
when you take me away from them.
I put myself in your safe, comforting hands.
I’ll see you soon!
“Sunrise in the Highlands”
III. Edward and Guinevere
Oh my! Edward said
when he spotted a human being
on the hillside toward the east.
She had raised her arms to the sky
and the sunlight naturally
shone through her cotton dress.
Edward ran to where she was.
Oh no! Guinevere grimaced.
I was counting on being alone
out here in this beauty.
“May I help you?” Guinevere asked.
Always with an attitude of servitude,
she looked up into his face
and squinted her eyes
because by now, the sun was fully risen.
Edward stammered, “Uh – yes. I am
looking for someone.”
Normally suave and well spoken,
all of a sudden he was rendered
stupid-sounding and unsure of himself.
This lass had the most remarkable eyes
he ever saw.
They were so liquid and bright,
deeply set into that porcelain skin
with a beautiful smile.
And that hair!! It’s blonde, but it’s beautiful!
Must be a foreigner,
Guinevere once again sat down on the hill.
“The next village is down there,” Guinevere pointed,
“and it will take you about half hour to get there.”
She was taken aback by this handsome man.
Probably a prince, she thought to herself.
“Thank you,” said Edward, now breathing more steadily.
“Actually, I came to meet you.”
“Do not tease me, please,” begged Guinevere.
“I am outcast by my family and community
and have heard enough jokes about me
to last a lifetime.”
“Well, dear lady,” Edward went on to explain.
“I think I’m the joke here.
All my life I thought I had to marry someone
within my own ranks and status.
I thought I wanted a Scottish princess
with hair of red or brunette,
But all that is not important now.
I’ve been looking for the wrong person
all my life. The joke is on me
because I assumed everything would be as I’d planned.”
Guinevere blushed and responded,
“I see now you are honest and sincere,
and I admit that I too made assumptions.
I thought a man of your looks
would never talk to someone like me.”
“Oh, do you mean a beauty with flaxen hair?”
“Yes, and also someone who is a common sheepwoman.”
Guinevere said this with quaking breath
because she could not quite believe this was all real.
“It turns out, my fair one,” Edward explained,
“that rank and status mean nothing to me anymore.
Only matters of the heart.”
Edward and Guinevere then joined hands
and walked down the hill together
toward the sheep and toward Tiree.
The sun shone even brighter then
and vowed to keep watch
over these two joined lives.
~ THE END ~
Inspiration for this post comes from my prior post called “Opposites”. Hope you will enjoy!
Large and big,
pork and pig.
Fork and spoon,
sun and moon.
Gray and black,
skill and knack.
Cap and hat,
mouse and rat.
Yellow and gold,
brave and bold.
Sleet and ice,
sweet and nice.
Phrase and word,
eagle and bird.
Now it’s time for this to end,
You’re in a new day now to spend.
published on debbieloeselstanton blog on 11/3/12.
“Another Pink Ribbon Day”
Now that October has come and gone,
The Pink Ribbon still has an important mission.
There are still breast cancer survivors
fighting for their lives
and other breast cancer survivors past the hurdle
doing all they can
to raise money for research, education
and patient care.
We wear pink ribbon clothes
and use pink ribbon goods
because we have formed an alliance
to let cancer know that we will defeat it.
We know not when, but
it will be done.
All the other colored ribbons
representing other cancers
need our support too.
We need to help others
so that they can afford medical care
for their treatment,
so parents don’t have to choose
between feeding their kids and getting treatment.
I thank all the corporations for funding research for us
and helping to raise awareness.
I pray for those who are dying from cancer,
that they receive hope and life on earth,
or with an ultimate healing in heaven.
Grant them strength and peace
and the same for their families and friends.
We know you’re not forgetting us Lord,
but it’s hard to believe sometimes
when things look grim.
We place ourselves in your capable hands
and even if we don’t know the outcome,
you do, and you will help us through.
Grant us to have one more pink ribbon day
and the promise for a better tomorrow.
Sometimes it is very tempting to live in the past.
Or at least revisit it from time to time.
There is something that can help me to keep living in the present.
I imagine a very, very thick door
such as you would find in an ancient cathedral.
The door is very, very resistant to being opened.
The door handle’s brass is very, very thin and worn.
The door squeaks and shudders on its hinges with a terrible sound.
Once the door is opened, a whirlwind quickly draws you forward.
The door slams behind you with a thud
and you find yourself in an unending ocean
trying to balance on a log.
There is no island or boat near you.
All around you are clear waters that you can look through to the bottom.
There are many views of your past in full sight.
However, you must be careful:
if you try to jump to another log to get a different view,
you find yourself in quagmire that is as terrible
Very quickly you realize that you are in
The Sea of Forgetfulness.
The bad memories are not in sight,
and the good memories give you comfort.
Even the good memories become more faint
as you live in the past.
People from your present cannot see or hear you,
and people from the past are likewise unavailable.
You are living in limbo
until you realize that your present life
is calling to you.
Even the good memories start to fade.
You have made peace with your past
before it completely faded from view.
Your present life is looking better and better.
Ah, the relief!
Why isn’t the past as good as we remember it?
Because the present is a different life now.
I quickly decide to get back to my present!
Just as I need her,
an angel shows up to open the big, thick door
I am back – I am home.
I am on secure footing once again
and quite relieved to see what makes up my life
right here, right now.
A Breast Cancer Patient’s Prayer
—- by Debbie Loesel Stanton
Oh dear God,
I haven’t talked to you in awhile,
but even if I had,
I would still feel like
I had been washed in a turbo washer
and hung out to dry, miles above the earth;
so totally alone,
even though I know you are actually with me
and I have my family and friends and care team pulling for me.
I hate it when people say
“It’s God’s will”, because I know
that you do not want people to hurt and get sick;
that’s just the way things go in this world.
God, my cancer isn’t your fault,
but can you please help me anyway?
I have many, many people and things to live for.
Can you make sure I can stick around here for awhile?
I want to make a bargain with you,
but that’s silly, because what do I have to offer you?
My faith and trust are on a downward slope right now,
they are threatening to disappear
like a rock on a slippery, icy mountain slope.
And, I also feel like I’m drowning;
please don’t let the waters of fear or illness
It’s been real hard to pray this, Lord,
because my thoughts wander all over the place;
my head is spinning and my nerves are as tight as violin or guitar strings.
I’m ready to explode into a great big puddle.
Please, please take your little girl’s hand
and lead her away from the shadow of death.
They say you’re walking with me through this valley,
but I don’t feel you, God!! Please help!
Maybe someday when my thoughts aren’t so muddled
you can tell me why this is happening to me.
For now, I imagine me climbing up into your lap and being rocked to sleep
I know you care for me, it’s just very hard to believe that right now.
I know you understand…
Oh, and one more thing Lord.
Please keep these people away from me:
ones who say they know just what I’m going through,
when actually they have never had cancer.
And the ones who ask if I need anything but then don’t follow through,
also the ones who give me advice about wigs and breast reconstruction
because they have never had to consider these things.
In trying to be helpful, they say anything they can think of.
Help me to be patient with them; they know not what they do.
Help me to obey my doctor’s orders
so that this very long road will not have to be even longer.
Please help your little warrior fight this battle.
Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep…
A necklace in the spa’s display case
Mesmerized me with a strong pull.
I couldn’t look away
and was lost in its complexity.
The shape of the jewel, square,
did not remind me of your eyes,
but the depth and clarity of the stone
Your eyes remind me of
a clear, rushing river
not polluted and bubbling with life and joy.
So pure and lovely to look into.
They say that eyes are the windows to the soul
and I have every reason to believe this is true.
Your eyes contain facets just like regular jewels do,
deep, warm and abiding.
Looking into your eyes makes me feel safe;
you have seen a lot of pain and wretchedness in your time
but still your love remains, and your beauty is inside and out.
It shines forth because you, after all, are a jewel.
— by Debbie Loesel Stanton
All rights reserved.
* I am sure your people think of you this way, though it may remain unspoken. 🙂
A Good Day
Tonight I was driving home from work, when on the highway I ran out of gas.
I tell you, the experience was more difficult than catching a bass.
I sat and waited for the “Highway Helper” once the state patrol called him to come,
As I grew faint from the high temps and felt so utterly dumb.
Mr. State Patrol advised me that pulling onto an off-ramp was not good enough,
he would give me just a warning this time but next time could be rough!
After ten minutes of waiting, I was all set to go and drove to a gas station one mile away.
Now I could go home and smile at the day.
It had actually been a very good day,
getting lots of work done and also having smiles and fun.
The positive part of this experience was: I didn’t get a ticket.
Nicer than a poor deer getting caught in a thicket.
And you’re wondering, why does Debb often rhyme?
It relieves stress so that I can say, “Okay, happy life, one more time!”