Lately the old mothers
have been slipping from their places
falling, dying
vacating strategic positions
leaving gaps
in the front line
A new generation
of matriarchs is needed
to organize the family dinners
the baby showers and the anniversaries
to send the birthday cheques
There's a call for fresh recruits
a newly commissioned troop
of kneeling warriors
arms raised in petition and praise
blessing the infants and the in-laws
interceding for the prodigals
alert watch women
guarding the walls of the family
© 2007 - V. Nesdoly
*************
This is for all us daughters who have lately become motherless - especially Glynis, whose mother died a few days ago.
Well girls, we're it now.
InScribe Writers Online Blog - Where members share their writings with each other and the world
July 31, 2007
July 23, 2007
This is Summer - Bonnie Way
Hot sun in the sky;
Lawn mower purring by;
Pretty-colored butterfly;
This is summer.
Days without a care;
Cool wind teasing my hair;
Flower fragrance in the air;
This is summer.
Gardens growing green;
Heat a shimmering sheen;
Bugs too tiny to be seen;
This is summer.
White clouds floating past;
Much-needed rain at last;
Weathermen miss the forecast;
This is summer.
Popsicles to freeze;
Fat yellow bumblebees;
Apples growing on the trees;
This is summer.
© Bonnie M. Ross
I wrote this poem years ago, when the scent of freshly-mowed lawn stirred my poetic musings. I wanted to capture the feeling of the summers of my childhood, and I still return to these memories.
Lawn mower purring by;
Pretty-colored butterfly;
This is summer.
Days without a care;
Cool wind teasing my hair;
Flower fragrance in the air;
This is summer.
Gardens growing green;
Heat a shimmering sheen;
Bugs too tiny to be seen;
This is summer.
White clouds floating past;
Much-needed rain at last;
Weathermen miss the forecast;
This is summer.
Popsicles to freeze;
Fat yellow bumblebees;
Apples growing on the trees;
This is summer.
© Bonnie M. Ross
I wrote this poem years ago, when the scent of freshly-mowed lawn stirred my poetic musings. I wanted to capture the feeling of the summers of my childhood, and I still return to these memories.
June 28, 2007
A Taste of the Wild - Donna Fawcett
As published June 25, 2007
He flares his nostrils, tasting the air for all signs of predator. Nothing. And yet there is something. A faint wisp of current that whispers to him. Flee. Run. Chase the wind. Tossing his head, he challenges the silent voice with his own certainty. There is nothing there. The wind picks up in a burst of hot, dry air and swirls the dust through the field before settling once more to stillness. Picking up a striped hoof, he bats at the ground impatiently.
Another toss of black and white mane sends the ear gnats and deer flies dancing into the air only to settle back to their morbid feast upon his hide. He feels little of it. Ears flicker back and forth as though in command of their own fate. All is as it should be. He is still for a moment longer and then a spasm shudders through the great collection of bone, hide and bunched muscle and he bursts forth, lifting legs high, holding his head upright as he continues to sample the close atmosphere with alert senses. With the thunder of each hoof small clouds of dust are churned to life, scattering out behind him. The pull and stretch of muscle pushes him into the bright daylight at a terrific speed and his herd members lift their grazing heads in instantaneous alarm. He flees.
Leader of the herd. Mighty stallion. The call has been sounded and they must follow. The single patter of four hooves becomes the roaring drum of hundreds and the field transforms into a flowing river of browns and blacks and whites and roans. The small puffs of dust become huge columns that obscure the fleeing charge and as the great band of horses crest the distant hill and plunge beyond its horizon silence once more comes to the still afternoon.
He flares his nostrils, tasting the air for all signs of predator. Nothing. And yet there is something. A faint wisp of current that whispers to him. Flee. Run. Chase the wind. Tossing his head, he challenges the silent voice with his own certainty. There is nothing there. The wind picks up in a burst of hot, dry air and swirls the dust through the field before settling once more to stillness. Picking up a striped hoof, he bats at the ground impatiently.
Another toss of black and white mane sends the ear gnats and deer flies dancing into the air only to settle back to their morbid feast upon his hide. He feels little of it. Ears flicker back and forth as though in command of their own fate. All is as it should be. He is still for a moment longer and then a spasm shudders through the great collection of bone, hide and bunched muscle and he bursts forth, lifting legs high, holding his head upright as he continues to sample the close atmosphere with alert senses. With the thunder of each hoof small clouds of dust are churned to life, scattering out behind him. The pull and stretch of muscle pushes him into the bright daylight at a terrific speed and his herd members lift their grazing heads in instantaneous alarm. He flees.
Leader of the herd. Mighty stallion. The call has been sounded and they must follow. The single patter of four hooves becomes the roaring drum of hundreds and the field transforms into a flowing river of browns and blacks and whites and roans. The small puffs of dust become huge columns that obscure the fleeing charge and as the great band of horses crest the distant hill and plunge beyond its horizon silence once more comes to the still afternoon.
June 25, 2007
God Doesn't Go "Poof" - Marcia
The other night I went to see the latest box office rage, Evan Almighty. I enjoyed the first film, Bruce Almighty, produced by Tom Shadyac, so decided to try the second. The comedy had some hilarious moments - like when God suddenly appears in the back seat of the main character’s vehicle and he screams in fear. God says, “Let it out, son, it’s the beginning of all wisdom.” And there were a couple of scenes that brought God’s truth to the wide screen.
Like the scene at a restaurant, when God shows up as the waiter. He chats with the wife of the man who would be Noah, and tells her (I’m relying on my memory here, so the words may not be exact) – “If a person prayed for patience, do you think God would just go “poof” and give her patience? Or do you think God would give her the circumstances in which to develop patience? And say a person had prayed that her family would draw closer together – do you think God would just magically make that happen or would He put that family in circumstances that gave them the opportunity to be closer?” The woman sees the wisdom of his words and goes back to her husband.
I’ve been thinking about the truth in that scene, in light of my own prayer requests lately. For instance, in light of my prayers for my writing, specifically my book – It’s not likely that God will go “poof” and make it an instant overnight success. But He will create the circumstances around that work that will lead me and teach me much. It will be an opportunity to learn and grow both in terms of the world of publishing, and in terms of my relationship with Him. It’s another example of how God is often not so much concerned with the end result as with the process.
And that brings me to the difference in our perspectives and the need for me to adjust
mine. I want to see my book on the best seller’s list. God wants to see it change lives. I want to become known as a writer. God wants me to know Him more.
I’m thankful for the reminder. And I’m thankful that I know God well enough to trust Him with the process. As he said to Evan – and to me through that crazy comedy – “I’m doing it because I love you.”
Like the scene at a restaurant, when God shows up as the waiter. He chats with the wife of the man who would be Noah, and tells her (I’m relying on my memory here, so the words may not be exact) – “If a person prayed for patience, do you think God would just go “poof” and give her patience? Or do you think God would give her the circumstances in which to develop patience? And say a person had prayed that her family would draw closer together – do you think God would just magically make that happen or would He put that family in circumstances that gave them the opportunity to be closer?” The woman sees the wisdom of his words and goes back to her husband.
I’ve been thinking about the truth in that scene, in light of my own prayer requests lately. For instance, in light of my prayers for my writing, specifically my book – It’s not likely that God will go “poof” and make it an instant overnight success. But He will create the circumstances around that work that will lead me and teach me much. It will be an opportunity to learn and grow both in terms of the world of publishing, and in terms of my relationship with Him. It’s another example of how God is often not so much concerned with the end result as with the process.
And that brings me to the difference in our perspectives and the need for me to adjust
mine. I want to see my book on the best seller’s list. God wants to see it change lives. I want to become known as a writer. God wants me to know Him more.
I’m thankful for the reminder. And I’m thankful that I know God well enough to trust Him with the process. As he said to Evan – and to me through that crazy comedy – “I’m doing it because I love you.”
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