Tag Archives: Poetry

Getting a Pup

5 Feb

My Take 

DiVoran Lites

 

 

 

By DiVoran Lites

My parents got a puppy
I don’t know where
But on their 50th anniversary
Dad left the party and came
Back with a small, black,
Boy they called
Casey or O’Casey
I can’t imagine why.

When I was little Daddy
Had curly black hair
I sat on the couch arm and
Ran my fingers through the silkiness
While he was resting after work
When I grew up, I became a hair stylist
I was at that 50th party
We stayed with Mom and Dad

I volunteered to love the beast
Through his scary first night.
We put him in a box
At the side of my bed
And when he woke
I dangled my hand in the box
And he quieted
Next day we took him

For a walk. The neighbors
Admired him. Aww
Casey traveled to Marrowstone Island,
Blue Mesa reservoir, and the Salton Sea
When it was still a sea.
But Casey didn’t fish or eat fish
Casey got cataracts and had a two thousand dollar
Surgery. He could see for a while but then had to
Navigate by running into walls
When dad went to the nursing home
Casey stayed home with Mother
And Patches the cat.
The three of them cuddled under the homemade
Afghan and watched, “Bonanza,” reruns.
He got let out at night to potty
While white-haired Mother stood by the sliding glass door

Waiting for him to come in.
When Mother went to the nursing home
Brother told Mother that a relative had come to get him.
Mother soon forgot
Mother and Dad both loved
Animals.
My first memory, or so I’m told
Is watching mice play under a bush.

Enthusiasm

2 Feb

From the Heart

Louise Gibson

 

author of Window Wonders

 

 

When we wake up in the morning
there is promise in the air.
We don’t know what the day will bring,
but the expectancy is there.

The time to be happy is now.
We have this day to explore.
Every day is a special occasion.
What are you waiting for?

Avoid premature aging with one word.
Enthusiasm would be my choice.
Get excited about each day.
Give your heart a voice!

 

Giovanni and the Magnolia Tree

29 Jan

My Take

DiVoran Lites

 

 

Hot pink flowers growing through green grass

Yellow cosmos glowing to be seen

Cherry laurel with a network of roots

Choke the yard. Call them choke-cherries.

A neighbor who owns a store knocks

On our door, wants to know if he can chop our

Chokers that grow yellow, inedible seed pods

That drop to the ground like accomplices to

The network of underground roots that choke out all other vegetation.

“I have too much energy,” says Giovanni “don’t want to spend it at the fitness center.”

We said yes, but tied a ribbon to the small, misshaped baby Magnolia

Which yearned to be free of overshadowing.

On Sundays, sometimes, we’d hear the crack of the ax

Against a tree and the ker-thump when the giant fell.

We never had one pang of remorse.

We and the magnolia wanted sunlight and at least a glimpse of blue

When most of the cherry laurels were gone,

The magnolia began to grow.

It was warped and scraggly and would never be anything but a runt.

Didn’t look like other magnolias, but it was free now and perhaps someday we’d pick a big flower from its

Boughs and wouldn’t have to ask someone else in the neighborhood

For a blossom to put in on a bowl where it could fill our olfactories with

Fragrance and our eyes with its creamy white petals and bright yellow filaments.

One day, I suppose it was a few years later,

I happened to look out a high window

To see the Magnolia tree, though still not shapely,

Reaching with its grateful branches

Into blue background

Taller than the remaining cherry laurels

With every dark green leaf polished to a flash.

In my mind the tree

Told me all it had needed was light

And there it was, thriving,

Giovanni thrived, too

And fairly newly married has

Possessed a baby son,

Giovanni may be seen every day walking the

New walking child

On cold days the tot wears a thick white sweater with a fuzzy, matching cap.

Sometimes you see them with the stroller coming home from store up near the highway.

Maybe someday they will chop trees or hike the world just to be together and spend their energy.

And the magnolia with be white with flowers.

It is Always Too Soon to Quit

26 Jan

From the Heart

Louise Gibson

 

author of Window Wonders

 

 

 

Let your dream be bigger than your fear.
Hold on to your vision and persevere.
The fuel for your journey is a spark.
By perseverance the snail reached the ark.

Love always perseveres.
a force strong and true.
It motivates your best interests
and brings out the best in you.
.

Don’t despise the day of small things.
It is the small thing that forms
the framework of our day.
Keep an attitude of gratitude
as the Lord leads you to do
all things His way.
.

Father Jean Nicholas Grou wrote:
“Little things come daily, hourly, within
our reach, and they are no less calculated
to set forward our growth in holiness than
are the greater occasions which occur but
rarely. Moreover. fidelity in trifles. and an earnest
seeking to please God in little matters is a test of
real devotion and love.”

Let your aim be to please our dear Lord perfectly
in little things.”

 

Poeming

22 Jan

My Take

DiVoran Lites

 

 

Why oh why must every thought

Demand to become a poem

That’s arrogant and demanding.

How can I put down my toothbrush

To write a poem?

How can I stop sweeping the floor

Folding laundry

Cooking supper

Going to the bank?

To write poems, poems, poems

How can I take the time to type them?

So they’ll not be lost?

Mindfulness

19 Jan

From the Heart

Louise Gibson

 

author of Window Wonders

 

 

Mindfulness is being aware of this moment.
Listen to your heart.
Your life matters.
Live it fully from the start.

Water the seed of optimism.
Have a love affair with life.
Think positive thoughts
and you will drive away the strife.

How will being mindful
help you with your pain?
Being aware of God’s presence
will bring peace to your heart again.

 

 

Credit to CrossCards.com

Ironing 1950

15 Jan

My Take

DiVoran Lites

 

Painting by DiVoran Lites from Go West

 

 

Whoever you iron for

Whatever you iron

Shirts, pillowcases, skirts,

Dresses, jeans, tea towels,

You are ironing to caress

And to earn a dollar a week

For the basketful.

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