First Ice & Other

Yes the temperature was +10° this morning at 7am. I should have trickled water in the sink overnight but the heat tape on the outdoor pipes did its job.

I expect that we'll be really socked in after the snow that is predicted for Thursday and Friday.

 

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The cabin holds sturdy arms around me.

It is permanence.

It is safety.

It is sanctuary.

It is Tranquillity.

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One of my long ago writings....

Survival or defeat? 

I wish I could remember what prompted this one!

Finale - Complete Piece

In tattered sweater with holes and pins, she hobbles

   from her bed,
The fire is low, she must get coal, it’s out there in the shed.
Her eyes peep through the crusty glass, they see 

   their distant goal…
It once was near but now it’s far, offends her weary soul.
Her man is gone, a fine man too, he used to gather wood.
She does her best to carry on, for once, her life was good.
The milk was sweet, the sun was warm, her children —

  how they grew!
They’ve left her now, the fondest things, she’s bid them all adieu.
But back to now—with daily chores to wear her strength away,
She must get coal to warm her bones, to live another day.
With strong determination to reach her destination,
The woman struggles on with legs of lead
Through ice and snow, Oh! Lord! the coal is gone!
Her muddled mind can’t comprehend that the final hour’s near.
It just can’t be! She’s ready though…
She’s waited all this year.

By Geraldine, November 1977

People of the Time

 Dsiderata Poem - Max Ehrmann

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste,

and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons.

Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexatious to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery.

But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.

Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here.

And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations,

in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.

Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

Naturally Green

     

"We have gone; we have fled

out into the world we go;

we have left our home,

and we will wander

and roam, until we find

a new haven. Then we will 

in turn put forth a new generation.

People will curse us

they will say “Damned Weeds”;

but we know we are not damned

for we are the beauty

of nature and we too are

children of the Mother Goddess

as people themselves are."  Author unknown

Times to Remember

I woke up this afternoon after daily nap with a melody and words. This has never happened before and I think I can attribute it to restlessness about the virus impact on the planet. It came from a dream of sitting and rocking on a porch with a dear friend who is deceased. She has been spared these times. I immediately wrote down the words on paper.

It isn't much when read, but when I sing it, it means a lot to me. I can't give you the notes but they are in minor key.

Times to Remember

There are times to remember and I can tell you when

There are times to remember and it was way back then

But these times to remember best not come here again

For these times to remember should not have ever been.

gmr 4/16/2020

Neglect

Written in 1977 - GMR 

(Grant from National Endowment for the Arts; and The Pennsylvania Council on the Arts.) 

My poem was published in three different volumes.

Note: This poem is about neglected PEOPLE, attending to their care and needs, and experiencing revitalization.

Neglect

The fields were left unshorn, the house was bleak and worn.
The barn forgot its life and warmth and litters that were born.
The apples grew and fell, became a rotting smell.
The rust attacked the tools and wheels which knew their jobs so well.
With helping hands they came, to sow and tend and reap.
To save the farm from certain death, to wake it from its sleep.
And now petunias grow, along the chicken wire,
The piglets root and squeal with joy, in moss and grass and mire.
The sight of birds and bees, of cows and streams and trees,
Should soften all the hardest souls and bring them to their knees.
How many farms lay waste?
How many die each day?
Who will bring them back to life?
Hurry! Don’t delay!

This is MY Country

please click on image to view larger

Dust

I had to scour my old computer to find this poem. I KNEW I had saved it (about 20 years ago) but had misfiled it and the search drove me nuts! I finally found it. I have way too much old stuff that I have transferred, first from an Apple LCII to the Y2K model, and then to the very large screen 2009 tabletop iMac. The last transfer was to my laptop. This poem was really lost in all of those transfers that I did the "long way." No trickle uploader or any other file transfer was ever used. The main point here is that it wasn't on the laptop and I wanted it!  Silly me. My brain is slowly turning into dust!

"Why Dust?"

Dust if you must, but wouldn’t it be better

to paint a picture or write a letter,

bake a cake or plant a seed.

Ponder the difference between want and need.

Dust if you must, but there is not much time,

with rivers to swim and mountains to climb!

Music to hear, and books to read,

friends to cherish and a life to lead.

Dust if you must, but the world’s out there

with the sun in your eyes, the wind in your hair,

a flutter of snow, a shower of rain,

this day will not come ‘round again.

Dust if you must, but bear in mind,

old age will come and it’s not kind.

And when you go, and go you must,

You, yourself, will make more dust!

Dust if You Must was written by Mrs. Rose Milligan from Lancaster in Lancashire, England, and first published on September 15th, 1998 in the 21st edition of The Lady ("in continuous publication since 1885 and widely respected as England's longest running weekly magazine for women").