Friday, November 27, 2020

A Picture Hides A Thousand Words





While I was arranging my advent center-piece
the dried black beans I soaked overnight boiled over. 


(every so often I soak a bunch, then cook and freeze them)
It doesn't seem to matter how big a pot I use they will boil over 
into a black mess on the stove!
It's just ridiculous how much foam they create!
So, as serene as the centerpiece appears, all by itself
it sits among the mess and hub-bub of life
and the smell of burnt bean-water in the burner😆

Reminded me of the drama of taking family-photos
which for us is not an annual event!
First there's the, 'what shall I WEAR?!!
To the 'you're not wearing That, are you?! 
to Mom, does this look okay?
 to 'how's my hair?'
 to, mom's hesitant query to the nonchalant one; are you...ready??? 
and the not-hesitant 'yup'!.

SO much more than meets the eye goes into The Family Photo!
But. It . Happened.
Thanks to a nice November Sunday
and super photographer Brittany Ruppert 
for all her amazing farm animal noises which kept
children and adults distracted/relaxed/laughing/smiling!
(the reason Victoria is just about dying of laughter on every photo)😂😂



A picture hides a thousand words 
Behind its tidy guiles 
Is so much more than seen or heard 
In polished, paper smiles 

A picture only snares a glimpse 
We siphon from the mess 
To capture from the chaos, glints 
Of arranged happiness 

Oh, Brant 'Johnny' dear, don’t cross your eyes 
Quick, click the shutter please 
Where, fingers crossed, we snare a prize 
Midst disharmonic ‘c-h-e-e-e-se’ 

A photo (do not be deceived) 
By that which visage meets/metes 
For meek, sweet stance is oft achieved 
Through threats or promised treats 

Now everybody, one-two-three 
Oh no! I laughed-blinked-sneezed 
And ho, he thinks I didn’t see 
What Mister Kissed-her squeezed 

I’m thankful for the memento 
Of precious photograph 
I’m thankful that they only show 
The quiet, composed half 

I’m thankful for the keepsakes of 
Seasons soon turned to Was 
While time steals days but never love 
In spite of all it does 

I’m thankful for the sweet half-lie 
In tidy, pretty pose 
Of so much more than meets the eye 
…unless you are a rose 

I'm thankful for moments that smiled
Midst life's rough-tumble ways 
As we capture for morrow's child
Snapshots of Good Old Days

© Janet Martin 

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