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Entries in poetry (23)




Seasons change, they are meant to

And weary of one we look forward to another

Then there is a longing for what is now behind

Close your eyes and be where you are

For a moment

Time is often hard on us

But now you know that one day you will miss

All that seems to make a day a week

Memories are sweet, but taste right now what is good



August 18, 2009 Eliana's Birthday

A season passes;
There are moments when it seems
So long and then
I watch as years collapse into moments.
My heart does not believe
Yet can I deny what is
Before my eyes?
Vivid are the pictures in my mind
Watching one so new.
The first time breath fills lungs
Is something
Not to forget.
Sleeping, nursing, cooing, lying,
Crawling, kneeling, walking, laughing,
Talking, running, jumping, living
With us for such a little while-
But how could these years already be
Behind us?
Memories are firm
Reminders of the hope
The future holds.
And toward it we will walk together
One step at a time.



A bounce, a flounce
A swirl, a twirl-

There's nothing like
A little girl;

With hair to brush
And songs to sing,
Babies to hold
And legs to swing,
They occupy
Their precious time
With coloring pictures
And clapping rhymes.

They match their clothes

Run hand in hand;

They make up dances

And dig in the sand.

They work together

To get a job done,

They love cute purses

And eat chocolate for fun.

Even though girly
From head to sweet socks
They'll play some ball

And climb on rocks.

Side by side

Through thick and thin
Not just cousins and girls,
They're friends.


Ode To Wendy

Growing up I never had a sister;

The only sibling in my life a mister.

I always thought it would be neat,

But my parents didn’t see fit

To have another baby!


When I married then I got a sister.

At first we didn’t spend much time together.

We lived far apart,

She was mature and smart,

And I was still just a baby.


Then we started having kids.

We talked of onesies and of bibs,

About diapers, and poopy

And breasts until loopy

While always nursing a baby.


We spend time at the beach every summer,

The end of the visit a bummer.

We figure out ways

To get through the days

And now there is no baby!


There are meals to prepare and messes to clean.

All day we wash clothes and apply the sunscreen.

We’re cleaning up messes, washing up kids,

Passing out drinks-lids or no lids?!

Goodness, we’re glad there’s no baby!


This trip my sister-in-law has been busy,

Because of my youngest we’re all in a tizzy.

Her patterns for sleeping are just not the best,

And much of my time is spent getting her to rest,

Even though she is no longer a baby.


My sister-in-law takes over, with three kids of her own;

She’s made dinner and bathed the five kids while alone.

Pajamas, and toothbrushes, and books she has found

Stepping over toys, climbing laundry mounds,

Did I say we’re so glad there’s no baby?


She’s picked up my slack on this trip once or twice

And I’d just like to say that I think it’s real nice

Really much more than that,

Because at the drop of a hat

She takes care of me like I’m a baby.


I’d normally say we work well as a team,

But on this vacation my life’s been a dream.

She’s done so much work I feel like a jerk

Since my excuse is not,”There’s the baby!”


She’s not only my in-law, but also my friend.

And in her honor I’d like to extend

This token of gratitude

For her affect on my daily mood

Excuse me while I cry like a baby.


Even though we stay up way too late

And tempt each other with chocolate cake

Waking up is easier to do

When you face the day with someone who

Understands your non-sleeping baby.


I’m so glad I can be

At the beach with Wendy.

I have quirks, more than one,

And she puts up with a ton,

Including how I whine like a baby.


We’ve seen many changes through all of these years,

We’ve laughed lots of laughs and cried many tears.

And one change I’m grateful for

Is that she’s an in-law no more.

I think of her as my sister!


(Did that last line throw you?)


I'm Doing Laundry

Whose clothes these are I think I know,
The pants and socks cast to and fro'.
They will not see me stooping here,
To pick the dirty piles up so.

A looker-on might think it queer
With machines so very near
That I myself would get and take
The clothes dropped by my kids so dear.

The washer spins and gives a shake
As if to say it's going to break.
I hope it won't for I would weep-
The laundry then would overtake.

The bed is cozy, I could sleep
But I have laundry that's knee deep
And piles to go before I sleep,
And piles to go before I sleep.

Robert Frost I am not...but I was inspired.