A Tip for Kids about Moms..........

Don't ask her at night when her head is so tired
If you can do that or this......
If you wait until morning after her coffee
Who knows.......she just might say 'yes'!!!

J~

I just read that smelling coffee can actually be
just as good as drinking it!
Not true!!!!! I tried that:)

See You Soon.....

Minutes compile
Expand
Pushing hours between us
Then days
Weeks
‘A little while’
Stretches into an eternity
And seeing you soon
Is like peering through a haze
At the moon
Or to the shore
On the other side of the sea
A little piece of me
Stays
With you
Every time you leave
And a little piece of you
Sustains me in between
Each good-by and hello
As the ebb and flow
Of years
Lines our faces
With tears
Of both joy and sorrow
Love's tender traces
Maybe tomorrow
‘Soon’ will be
Just a day away

Janet~

The phrase 'see you soon'
often makes me a little sad.
How soon is 'soon'?

You........#2

It’s more than the comfortable feeling
Of slipping into a favorite pair of jeans
Or the warmth in the air
When your face is almost touching mine
Or the rush of expectation
As ball-point touches paper
The passion in a perfect word
It’s more than the meeting of glances
Across the room
Or seeing the icicle plunge to the ground
Because the sun was too warm
And the sky perfect blue
No……..the thrill I feel
In a moment like this
Can only be described in one word
You

Janet~

Vegetable Soup

Wash, peel, chop, slice
Measure, feel, pour, dice
This is my dance
Choreographed for me
Suiting my hands
Color and harmony
Of the purest kind
A gentle ballet
For the eye and the mind
Carrots orange, turnips yellow
Savory, warm, aroma mellow
Potatoes, cabbage, peppers, beans
White, purple, reds, greens
Here is nourishment for the soul
Season, cook, place into bowl
Supper time, rally the troops
M-m-m-m good, love served as vegetable soup

Janet~

I love making soup.
There is a pure kind of therapy
In chopping, dicing, slicing….
And preparing a good, wholesome supper.

Prelude to Spring.........

It’s a stirring within dead stillness
Silence without a name
Evoking an urgent longing
To press it from whence it came
An ambience of expectation
Hovering in the brush
Beneath still-life submission
I sense a deeper push
As waters burst the barriers
Of winter's frozen shell
The rush of silver laughter
Now tunes the murmuring dell
A quickening of pulses
Deep within the earth
A stirring of the senses
An imminent re-birth
The harbor of hope’s promise
Cradled in bud and limb
A deep and soundless wakening
Prelude to nature’s hymn


Janet~

I did go on a trek yesterday afternoon.
The grayness did not hold its usual biting chill.
There’s not enough snow left to ski on the fields so
I walked, feeling like an unwanted intruder
Breaking the wind-swept stillness……..

Quiet.......

The lee is dark and silent now
Even the wind has ceased to blow
The shadows fade into the deep
And all the children are asleep
The quiet reaches to the star
Darling, I wonder where you are………..

Is it quiet where you are too?
Is the sky purple or blue?
Is the silence dark and deep?
I wonder if you are asleep
I pause but there is no reply
Save for the moon up in the sky


J~

I sat on the deck tonight
with a cup of coffee,
the silence broken by
the howl of the dog next door
calling for his owner who is......
no more.

A Letter

Darling, if I should write you a letter
What is it that I would tell?
Would I speak of such wee trifles as weather?
And ask ‘have you been well?’
Or would I commit to this humble parchment
The things I should like to say
Darling, if I would write you a letter
Would you keep it or throw it away

Darling, if I would write you a letter
Would you bother to read it at all?
Or would you reply that you like it better
When I pick up the phone and call
Darling does the smell of ink and paper
Drive you a little crazy too?
And should I decide to write a letter
Would you mind if I wrote it for you?

Janet~

In this electronic age do we still write letters?
A hand-written letter cannot be deleted.
It can last for generations.
I came across such a letter one day when I was putting some things away.
It was a letter to my grandma from her sister. PRICELESS!!!!!

Is This Really It?

Am I a proprietor or slave?
The toil of both lead to the grave
Do they not?
And is there any merit then
To strive to do the best I can
With what I’ve got?
Or is it just a choice of means
Until the swaying ever-greens
Weep on my tomb?
The dust of all is equal there
Is there reason still to care?
Is death my doom?
Has any seen the tears I’ve wept?
Or is there any tally kept
Of joys or sorrows?
When the beggar and the king
Rest side by side at evening
With no tomorrows
Will one be of greater worth?
Or is this life upon the earth
A grand illusion?
A little blip upon a screen
An actor in a random scene
Of mass confusion
Is this really all there is?
A journey to vast emptiness
No rhyme or reasons?
From the cradle to the grave
Is this the breadth of all we have?
Four quickened seasons?
How dark then, growing old would be
A hastening of futility
To cold, hard sod
Beyond this life is so much more
Death is but the wondrous door
That leads to God……….

Janet~

I’m so glad there is One
Who sees each step I take
My little successes
And every mistake
He sees my smile
Counts each tear that I cry
Thus by the grace
Of God, go I