POEM WITHOUT RHYME…

In March I promised a fellow blogger I’d write a poem. She said it was Poetry Month.

Instead I visited my kids in the US and didn’t get to it.

Better late than never…

POEM WITHOUT RHYME IN FOUR STANZAS

In the still of the night
Or the wee hours of morning
I heard a plaintive cry
Looking for the time
Thorough one half-opened eye
From the wrong side of the bed
I heard it again.

Surely no little creature
Living in my humble abode
Would need to cry out so
The stuffed dog lay still
Dozing contentedly on the floor.
Listening carefully I heard it
One more time.

The sad moaning sound of
That oh so desolate cry
Enveloped my whole being
Wrapped in wretchedness
I was made too aware
Of my solitary bed
Filled with aloneness.

My thoughts turned to you
And I missed you terribly
My arms reached up
Towards my own chest
Looking for my heart
I heaved a deep sigh
And whimpered.

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Happy Valentines Day…

PHOTO BY CHANDRA

We are all tired of COVID:19. We want it to go away!!! We miss friends and family we can’t see. I certainly do.

I miss my book club. I miss my loved ones. I miss seeing many of my friends. I miss being physically close to them. I miss touching them and feeling okay about it AND, it’s Valentines Day!

I even find keeping a safe distance from strangers lonely. It’s difficult to have conversations with people standing in line with you. You’d have to holler for them to hear and that’s not so cool.

But, what I miss most of all is HUGGING loved ones and friends. Don’t you??? I feel like squashing them. Have you almost forgotten what it was like to hug someone dear to you? To cuddle? To feel really close to someone? Well, here’s a little poem to help you remember:

Would you like a cuddle
with me, and to huddle?
No – not in a puddle
where ducks like to waddle
that would tend to befuddle
and leave us amuddle.

My wanting to cuddle
Is not empty twaddle,
My sentiments floodle
my heart – my cheeks ruddle,
I tremble, I shuddle –
And it all came so suddle.

By Hans Muller

Better than a novel…

Queen Elizabeth 1st wearing her red wig

Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex

I’m intrigued by history, but hesitate to call myself a history buff. I am actually more of a ‘history gossip’. The happenings of the past — political marriages, love-affairs, intrigues, murders and other goings-on are fabulous and often better reading than a novel.

For instance, take Queen Elizabeth 1st of England, who wore globs of white makeup to cover her pock marks. (It contained lead and caused many a death as a result.) Handsome Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, a favourite of hers, who was rumoured to have warmed her bed and probably did, in the end had to pay with his life when he made her really, really angry. After all, Elizabeth had absolute power.

Frances Sidney, Countess of Clanricarde, Robert’s wife

Being a favourite of the Queen was a dangerous business. Robert served her well, but when he acted against her wishes and had the audacity to marry Frances Sidney, Countess of Clanricarde and widow of the English writer, Sir Philip Sidney, he should have known he was walking on thin ice. Whatever WAS he thinking?

Hugh O’Neill, Irish Leader

The Queen didn’t act immediately, but she seethed. Then when he made an unauthorized truce with the rebel Irish leader, Hugh O’Neill, the Monarch at first greeted him kindly, but saw an opportunity for revenge. The angry lady ordered the handsome guy’s head chopped off. Well, what did he expect, the queen was obviously not amused.

It is also interesting to note that Robert was beheaded in 1601. Frances, Robert’s wife, died that same year too. I wonder??? Do you?

Me in prison? Really?

on one of my daily walks.

On one of my daily walking/shopping excursions, I stopped to buy some lip balm. I put my mask on, entered the drugstore and saw a selection on a rack at the corner of an aisle. An employee was stacking shelves nearby.

Turning the corner, my walker hit the display and I heard a tube fall. I looked on the floor in front, behind, around me, and twirled again and saw — nothing. Then, behind all of the tubes, there it was. Well I thought so.

I had walked out with that darn thing

The employee saw it and said not to worry — she’d pick it up later. I thanked her, selected one to buy, picked up some vitamin B12 tablets, paid for them both and left the store.

It wasn’t until I got all the way home that I discovered the troublesome tube. There it was in full view in my walker’s basket. Is that where it went? I had walked out with that darn thing where anyone could see it, except me.

I was as innocent as a newborn babe

The rack wasn’t very sturdy and I guess the tube we saw on the floor was not the same one. Oh, dear. I was as innocent as a newborn babe. I had no intention of stealing anything. If I was going to do so, I’d certainly pick something of more value. What would they do to me?

Do I need a lawyer?

Every time someone rings my bell I wonder if it’s the police? Do they now have a file on me? Do I need a lawyer? Will they put me in shackles and drag me to court? In front of all my neighbours, who will be saying: ‘I knew there was something I didn’t trust about her when she first moved in 30 years ago.’

Will they put me in jail?

Will they then put me in jail? How long will I have to serve for a tube of lip balm? Will I get some awful prison guard who hates me on sight who will abuse me until my sentence ends?

Will you send me cigarettes? No, I don’t smoke but don’t they send cigarettes to everyone in jail?

Yup, he hates me!

A Mere Change of Heart…

 

We shared a love of film and theatre

And talked about them passionately.

I saw us together melding our knowledge

Learning and growing and sharing and…

 

 

 

He talked of summer visits to Oregon friends

And taking two weeks to drive there — slowly.

I heard the promise of joyful times with him

Exploring tomorrow and tomorrow.

 

 

His eyes across the dinner table spoke of

Countless hours we’d spend together.

Then he could not understand why his

Mere change of heart hurt so deeply.

Good morning world…

photo by Chandra

 

Mornings are dark right now, but I am looking forward with anticipation and pleasure to our wonderful skies come spring.  Vancouver has the most beautiful clouds I’ve ever seen and they fill me with joy. I face north and see the mountains from my windows and sometimes the clouds embrace the peaks as they would a lover.

 

 

Good Morning World…

Night in passing gives a military salute

And a promise of a crimson dawn

The Burrard Bridge at dawn, one of my favorite of many local bridges

Kisses my window.

 

Blossoms vie for space and light on my balcony

They push and shove like crowds of pedestrians

On a crowded boulevard.

 

 

 

My constant companion, Jerry, the anukshuk, watches over my balcony garden and the lovely miniature lilac tree daughter Susan gave me.

 

 

Yeah!

Cool air caresses my skin with a hint

Of sensual heat to come if I could only

Learn to be patient.

 

 

Fresh air and brewed coffee and car fumes

Dance together in my nostrils offering

A feast at my fingertips.

Good Morning World!

 

 

‘Good Morning World,’ I call out to nobody.

 

 

 

It isn’t a fire folks, just a beautiful dawn in my city

I owe an apology to my mom…..

How interesting to look back at childhood from this vantage point. I currently see things so differently. Does that mean there’s hope we garner a little wisdom with age? Perhaps… I now realize I owe my mom an apology.

I was the youngest of five children. We lived in Quebec when birth control was illegal so our family wasn’t considered that big.

finally five

I was finally five and expecting to go to kindergarten. All my siblings attended school and I could hardly wait to go too. I was so excited. Woweee!

 

they refused to accept me

Mom dressed me up in a starched dress for the occasion and we walked hand in hand to our local school to register. They refused to accept me. Why, I’ll never know.

Perhaps they had too many students or something at the time because the next year they put me directly into first grade. They surely didn’t ask me what my opinion was about their dastardly decision. All I knew was they said NO!!!

I cried….

I didn’t cry, I howled

My mom probably tried, but was not prepared to argue for too long. I was heartbroken. I cried all the way home. Actually, that’s not at all true, I didn’t cry, I howled in five-year-old frustration and despair. It just wasn’t fair!!!! Everyone else (in my family) went to school. My poor mother tried her best to comfort me, but it wasn’t possible.

Now having raised children myself, I realize what a break those few hours each day would have been for my poor mom. She was probably looking forward to having some time to herself even more than I was looking forward to going to school. Being older today, I can’t help but imagine how disappointed SHE must have been herself.

The poor soul had to wait a whole year before having me at school

After all, I don’t think we ever had a babysitter — preschool may not even have existed yet, so my mom had to wait a whole year before having a few child-free hours.

I feel I was cheated out of the kindergarten experience I never had, however I also wish I had thought to apologize to mom…..

Appreciation for supportive friends….

I met Bill and Nancy Keuntje on a train in 2017. They’re a warm couple who were kind to this old lady and very worth keeping in touch with. (I think they live in New Jersey.) Bill collects miniature toys and promised to send me some — and immediately did so. He also composes beautiful music, some of which I get to listen to on my computer.

Support your friends when they need you

‘I’m just a blue-collar guy who’s made it to age 70 and knows but for the grace of others, I would be much worse off.’ Bill says humbly, but he’s no ordinary guy. So, during his recent chemo treatment for cancer, Bill thought about all those who gave him love and support during the harrowing experience and wrote this for all those who love and supported him:
.
And I don’t know what special is –

Don’t know why it is –

grateful to support during treatment

How just a moment alone or among a crowd,

Can become the why of a lifetime –

How sometimes it appears…. or just happens –

How the solitude of a whisper within a passing cloud

Can become the dominant essence that pervades and envelopes

That which wasn’t there just a thought ago –

But I do know what’s special –

The value that it holds, the power it possesses –

How it can overwhelm and dominate –

Or be the gentle note a bird might sing as glimmers of the

first light of day appear –

The first breath of a newborn today.

And I do know that it’s always there –

Impatiently waiting – biding its time –

Doctors know friends help

Needing to nourish – to be nourished –

Whether by a congregation of souls

Or an unknown entity X-degrees separate,

Alone and distant within the depths of a shadow

But more importantly, I know the Who –

Maybe not by name or familiarity –

Couldn’t pick it out of a crowd, for the crowd might be it –

But you are there – amongst the throng

As a color within a rainbow graced by its hue –

Unique as a dewdrop upon a blossom kissed by the sun.

Yes, you are special!     More so than you realize!

Yes, you are special!   More than you could ever imagine!

YES!

YOU ARE SPECIAL!!!!

You can send Bill good wishes for complete recovery directly to: bkeuntje@gmail.com

Sad poetry

I’m following some poetry blogs which I find worth reading. Besides, when time is short, they don’t take much time to read. Some of the work is extremely sad. If you live long enough, you experience sadness now and then and can identify. Still, I hope they’re not always as sad as when they write some of the poems I read.

 

 

Here’s one of my own:

I hope they’re not always as sad as when they write some of the poems I read.

DESOLATION

I rushed home
To your arms
Because
I needed you

We’ve all felt sad from time to time

But your arms
never held me
And so
I hurt more
Than if
I had been
Alone.

(Not to worry, this was written long ago.)