November 5th

Remember, remember the Fifth of November,
The Gunpowder Treason and Plot,
I know of no reason
Why the Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot.
Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, t'was his intent
To blow up the King and Parli'ment.
Three-score barrels of powder below
To prove old England's overthrow;
By God's mercy he was catch'd
With a dark lantern and burning match.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, let the bells ring.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King!
And what should we do with him? Burn him!

I've always loved the story of the Guy Fawkes Plot. Have you told your kids this famous story of intrigue and daring?? They'll love it!

Barn Dance Time!

(Originally posted 5/11/09, reposting for I Heart Faces' Vacation Week. The kids and I went down to Mom's for the annual Spring Dance. Enjoy!)


Stroll on down to the barn, friends,




This old thing never looked so good!



Nod hello to a cousin,



Put your arm round your sister,



The guys all line up in a row.



Then toes start a tappin',



And skirts start to swirlin',



And the ladies they strut and twirl.



Little ones join in,



Along with couples young and old.



Take hands with your neighbors,



Shake off your weary labors,



It's Barn Dance Time!




P.S. my sincere apologies to mr and mrs A. for using you as the "old couple". someone had to do it....

Lots of other great Vacation Stories! Go check 'em out!

Adoration

(this post is in participation with Karina's Alphabet Soup. Unfortunately I don't have a photo to add in. I've been procrastinating about posting this poem for a while now, hoping I'd have time and opportunity to go and take one, but obviously that never happened. Sorry, Karina, better luck next time. You guys, join in! Check out other entries! Comment!)

ADORATION

Impercievable Light
Keen as a scalpel, pure as glass,
The colors of all the tongues of earth,
Beauty of eternal morning,
Brilliance of the sun of God.
The heat of Absolute Truth
Branding on my soul a cross.

My God, my God!
Be merciful to this child of unclean lips.

Autumn Babies (September's Poetic License)

tiny tired feet rustle, rustle, hustle, stumble
crunching leaves in yellows, browns and reds
September sun, apologetic, humble
slanting golden rays illuminating golden heads
as autumn babies hurry to their early beds






(Thanks, Robin, for the idea, sorry it took me so long to get it up, we've got sick Autumn babies around here...)


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Solid Joys

The feel of rock at my back
And earth at my feet
A child in my two arms
And rain on my cheek

The sound of rocking chairs creaking
And streams over rock
Of wind on a high hill
That makes the grass talk

The sight of firelight on faces
The sun on birds' wings
A circle of true friends
The perfection of rings

The love of a strong man
The joy in pain
The pure life in laughter
The light through the rain

The road that was taken
The fight that was won
The name of the True God
And the gift of His Son



(Inspired by the final verse of a hymn by Isaac Newton)

Savior, if of Zion's city
I through grace a member am,
Let the world deride or pity,
I will glory in Thy name.
Fading is the worldling's pleasure,
All his boasted pomp and show;
Solid joys and lasting treasure
None but Zion's children know.

Okay...

...you talked me into it :)


(the Valentine one)

A song of love, a song of joy
Running, laughing, girl and boy
Beyond the ken of common mind
The highest state of humankind
Nearer heaven we cannot fly
Than living, loving, you and I.




(the one Josh remembers from Storysingers-- our music/drama club)


Love life, my friend
But hold it lightly, in an open hand
Drain every moment of its essence
But equally, be it joy or sorrow
Take all as coming from a loving Hand
Give all as giving to the Master's plan
Laugh, love, weep, die and do it thoroughly.




Judge them kindly. I was only in high school...

August Poetic Licence

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Robin, at Penseive, is at it again! The monthly Poetic License challenge is back and I'm so glad :) Here's the challenge, and here's my Back to School Penseive, because Robin said that if we wrote a Penseive she would "...love, cherish and admire you forEVAH" and who could pass that up?? I ask you...

Good Morning, Mr Forshey, How Was Your Summer?

Books start to creep off the shelves and into wordy piles on my coffee table. 
Muttered frustrations about endless meetings hang in dark clouds in the corners of the room.
White dress shirts hang, still warm and crisp from the iron, their sleeves knife-edged.
The light-headed smell of whiteboard ink lingers on the edges of his khaki pockets. 
The endless march of bologna and cheese sandwiches with mustard, mayo and some horseradish-- to make it bearable-- begins again.

See you next summer, lover....

Possibly something newish

I'm thinking about doing something new... I've always loved poetry. I enjoy reading it, I enjoy writing it. Well, I enjoyED writing once upon a time. I haven't really written much of anything in a good long while (kids kind of put a damper on long contemplative walks and quiet pensive moments). I really enjoyed the poetry challenge over at Penseive a few weeks ago and hoped that perhaps participating in her weekly challenges would re-motivate me to write more. But a few themes like this one and this one got me less than nowhere (as those of you who know my feelings on reptiles and insects could guess).  So instead I'm thinking of starting something myself (yep, Laura, you could have guessed that, too ;). I think I may start posting a weekly poem of my own. I'll start with some that I wrote a while back-- just to get myself warmed up. Then I'll try to move into new creations. Since I'm such a glutton for comments, I'll ask you all to participate by leaving me suggestions for topics and encouraging remarks when I publish (note: "encouraging" being the operative word there).

I know I'm sounding very hesitant and non-committal. I'm reserving the right to decide not to do this at any point. It's a little un-nerving to share one's innermost thoughts with anonymous (and possibly non-existent) readers.

I might just start tomorrow....

For my fat babies...

It's poetry time again at Pensieve, and this month I'm joining in on the "literary history-making challenge". Here's my first attempt at writing a 'pensieve'.

Baby Buddha

Swirls of barely-there silky hair, doughy thighs, pillow-fat feet kicking my arm.
Contented gurgles, milk-dripping mouth sucking noisily at my breast.
Slobbery, wide open mouth kisses, smack on my lips like strawberry Bubble-Yum.
Moist, sticky, tickle-begging fat rolls, jiggle-giggling under my fingers.
Warm soft breath, pausing heart-breakingly for a moment in slumber, then flowing on, setting my mind at rest.

Be sure to check out all the other awesome entries!

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