When she was just two almost three, Grace helped Grandpa John In the garden, as happy as can be. Near the carrots, Oh, they weren’t nearly as grown, Grace found a gift She could keep as her very own. She unearthed a marble, buried long ago, by some a child or squirrel long forgotten It’s origins unknown. Solid red was the marble and as shiny as if it were new. She carried it carefully into the house And introduced it to all she knew. Often she would carry it from room to room to room. And explain the house to the marble as only a two and a half year old can do. Her other favorite thing to do Was to to pinch it between finger and thumb. Inevitably it would pop out of her grasp and roll to parts unknown. The game continued, all of us helped, in searching for her gift Until one time no one saw which way the marble went It’s in our house somewhere, Of that I am sure. I hope some day it’s found again with a child’s love so pure.
At this hour of the day, when the morn’ is new and sunny, thinking of my favorite cat, is really rather funny. There’s Vinnie, the Calico and Chester lives next door. Oh, and there’s also Ollie; Just one of many I adore. I know and love several cats This much is true the one I want to tell you about is named ‘Cat Sank,’ also known as Yeux. Cat Sank is a French feline. she is smudge pot black; cute as can be, with a wide white stripe on her backside, for all the world to see. Cat Sank wears a beret And is funny, bright and full of spunk, She really has only one small flaw: She’s in love with a skunk. I want to hold her in my arms but outside she must stay Because of her love of Pepe LePew And his awful malodorous spray.
A glimpse of the other side gives way to full view. An interloper can observe with circular arguments and telescopic focus the secret garden on the other side. (There is always another side.) Nothing left to the imagination. Perhaps they are rabbit holes. Are they holes at all? Perhaps they are more openings than holes. It’s late and I don’t want to get into knotholes that are not holes, unless there are not knots in them. (The opening was there and I took it.) Our minds look for what isn’t, until we train ourselves to be grateful for what we have. Until then, we waste our time, wanting what isn’t there, Realizing it is only a wall. (This makes me think of The Beatles.) (I love to turn you on.*) *”A Day in the Life,” Lennon-McCarthy, 1967.
My focus is warped
warring with a deep physical need
to soothe the swimmer’s itch rash
inflaming my legs.
My focus is divided
vying with the physical need
of finding a more comfortable
means of sitting up all night,
My focus is eroded
by the pain of our
the hour of darkness
May you keep faith
May it shine like a beacon
coating the shadows
in everlasting light.
In this time of COVID-19, Loneliness creeps in to the farthest recesses making it difficult, if not impossible to stay connected to stay positive to remain part of something bigger. Not often am I concerned about having control allowing the natural course of things Social distancing Wearing masks All with a distinct lack of control. All to remain part of something bigger.
With churches closed and no one to visit,
We zoomed my entire family, many for the first time
It was wonderful to see everyone.
We also ate candy and cooked a ham.
How can I make my family photo albums?
I thought it would be easy.
Take a picture and download, edit, print.
Then, I found
What do I do now?
If you can help me with this problem,
then maybe you can tell me
How can I get all my photos in one place?
Right now, I have photos
On my phone,
On my tablet
On my husband’s computer
On the cloud
On Google Drive
I’m sure they are great pictures,
But for now,
I have to work from memory.
Are you warm enough?
Make sure you have some broccoli.
I saw this in the store and it reminded me of you.
Would you like a back rub?
You look tired.
Do you want to talk about it.
I’m here for you.
Count on me.
I’ve got your back.
Settling into my roomy seat breathing sighs to release tensions brought on by the airport Travel was easier before 9/11 Everything was. I wish I could fly without baggage “I don’t like to carry things.” I muse aloud. That’s very French. My mind responds. Yes. I smile mysteriously. I love every new minute of the flight champagne, reading, movies and nap