Grandma’s House #Poem

Did Jesus go to Grandma’s house
For sweets and cakes and bread?
Did Grandma ruffle up his hair
And kiss his little head?

Did Grandma call him in from play
With clanging dinner bell?
Did she tuck Jesus into bed
And pray that he’d sleep well?

Did Jesus wake with morning light
To smells of Grandma’s cooking?
Did he explore her storage rooms
For mysteries a-looking?

Did Grandma know her first grandchild
Would come to be the Christ?
Or was he just her Jesus-boy
She cherished day and night?

Did Jesus go to Grandma’s house
With joy and playful plans?
And did he love as children do,
His precious Grandma, Anne?

I’d really like to think he did,
And I suppose he might.
Because he lived like all of us
In God’s own loving Light.

The loving of a Grandmother
Who’s gentle, wise and kind,
Is Spirit taking form to bless
A child’s heart and mind.

Life’s Lost Meaning #Poem

What is obdurate?
Most don’t know
the meaning of the word.

Yet we live it
every time we are stubborn,
unwilling to listen,
not easily moved to compassion,
and when we demonstrate,
in thoughts, words or actions,
lack of empathy
toward another being.

We point fingers
at others,
because, of course,
they are the problem.

But perhaps
this word of unknown meaning
sucks the very meaning
from within our own lives…

72 words using “obdurate,” which I had to look up, for Sammi Cox’s
Weekend Writing Prompt #161

Simple Gifts #Music #Mp3

Download Simple Gifts Mp3

In the United States, this is Memorial Day weekend. Memorial Day is celebrated in remembrance of military personnel who died in the line of duty.

In remembering those who have fallen, we must not forget those who are still living, including ourselves. As long as we live, it’s important to be grateful, yet not to let memories keep us from living in the present moment. Our time here on earth can be tedious, difficult, and sorrowful. But it is also beautiful, enriching, and it presents opportunities for us to remember what is most important in life.

Here is “Simple Gifts,” played on lyre. This American Shaker hymn was written by Joseph Brackett, Jr. in the 1800’s. It is a reminder to return to simple things. Whatever we reach for, it is rarely the “big things” that bring us true joy and happiness, but rather the simple ones.

I hope you enjoy, and if you do, please share the link or mp3 with others!

Have a peaceful, safe, and happy Memorial Day!

MOTHER #Acrostic #Poem #Song

Master of invention, mysticism revealed
Optimistic alchemist, otherworldly being
Telling stories, teaching life
Healing everything from scratches, to teddy bears, to hearts
Essence of Love, expanding Awareness
Restoring herself to renew others.

Every Mother’s Tears

Original Song

Talk-o-matic #Poem #Song

Please don’t be a talk-o-matic,
Entering a place!
It’s really unattractive,
And it interrupts the pace.

Just pay some true attention
To listen and to note
What’s going on around you
Before you rock the boat.

‘Cause if you’re all a-chatter
Before you even hear,
That’s why the people scatter
And cover up their ears.

If you want them to listen,
You must offer them the same.
There’s more gold in the silence
Than the words we say in vain.

Please don’t be a talk-o-matic!
I’m not afraid to beg.
Self-centered, constant prattle
Sends good people on their way.

Sound or Silence Choice

Original Song

My Isolated Life #Poem

Before this mass isolation,
I was already isolated.
For more than a year,
I’ve talked to the same person,
Been to just one place for someone else’s appointments,
And really had only myself as good company.

Before social distancing,
I was already more distant than ever.
I’ve had no contact with friends, family, or even acquaintances.
Social media? Oh no,
I dare not get involved!
I am my only antisocial outlet.

Before economic difficulties,
I was already broke,
And I don’t just mean not having much money.
Rather, I had no resources, still don’t.
I work plenty, but I’m not allowed to earn.
And only I know how I feel, being well and truly trapped.

Before everyone stayed home,
I was already stuck,
Imprisoned by past choices.
I cannot leave
Without support, finances, work and a home.
I am a caged bird, singing to myself.

Before wide-spread depression,
I was already depressed.
Yes, I have regrets, guilt, if-only’s.
There’s so much I want to share, do, and be!
The up-side? When you tell me of your isolation,
You know I understand!