Fog ~

Fog is like a big gray wall, except that it is all soft and misty. It 
seems to ensnare you in a realm all your own and set you entirely 
apart from the outside world. You may walk on and on and never 
appear to be going anywhere. Time seems to stand still.
   Some people think of fog as dreary and forbidding. I think it is
beautiful and mysterious. When you approach a light very closely 
you can see the fog softly floating about like beautiful billowy 
clouds . It seems as though it is trying to enclose the light and hide it 
completely from view.
   I love the musty damp smell that accompanies a fog. It is utterly thrilling
to wander aimlessly when mists change the world, making everything
even yourself, feel unreal.

Denver Summer Night ~

This night each starry stab of light 

across the river trails a wriggling 

snake of silver 

in the water ...

A distant sadly comic saxophone 

cries faintly in the black and sultry summer 

mystery

Who ... stole my heart away?

Who ... an old piano mingles soft 

into the blessed Colorado breeze

crickets chirp and rasp a song as your 

slow breathing in my ear blends with 

the heat, the scent of dewy clover and 

the not quite heard strum buzz of stars.

It is a night for nakedness 

of soul.

(wildflowers are from my garden) 

Do You Remember?

Do you remember

how they looked and spoke and moved about 

so many years ago?

How their voices 

long since stilled by time 

once spoke your name?

Do you sometimes 

think of them 

trying to make the memory of their faces

come sharp and clear and beautiful 

only to discover 

that like old and yellowed photographs 

quaintly posed 

tranquil and faded 

there is sadness even in their smiling?

Sometimes do you wonder 

hopefully 

if they could see you now 

that it would be 

so beautiful for them 

an occasion for 

rejoicing?

Now that all their ancient love 

has long since burned to hallowed ash

do you remember 

how much of all that love

which warmed their hearts 

and stirred their hopes 

was preciously ...

just you? 

(photo is from Google ) 

The Reliability of Books ~ A Love Poem

When I can no longer have you 

I spread your books beside me in bed

sleeping with pages your fingers have turned

sleeping with words well-loved by you.

It is a small consolation for your absence 

for the nearness of your body next to mine 

I pull a book to me in the dark 

not knowing its title 

spread it like palms across my body

feel it move with my breath 

make it pulse like my heartbeat.

Books have filled these empty spaces before 

I know the pleasure of their reliability
awaiting your return.

Gossip

If time would stop 
sundials stand at noon

winds not blow

leaves not fall below

on your command 

I would listen 

to the words you hurl 

and they would hurt.

But time does not wear patience 

in her hair 

weather vanes blow north and south 

acorns grow 

fall upon the ground.

And I will braid your multicolored words 

into a rug 

and throw it down 

to hide the dirt.

A Love Poem

One afternoon 

when trees stood clear 

against the sky 

at dusk 

the light, a pale soft gray 

I sat down 

to write you everything 

I've wanted to say 

but now I have the chance 

I find my words of passion, love and romance 

lose all their heat 

when dressed in black and white 

and fall in silence 

on the printed page ...

I need the poets 

of another age 

to write their sonnets 

full of furbelow and fuss

I can only show 

you how I feel.

(Picture of us was taken on Mother's Day

my husband always takes me out to a lovely brunch)

The Eyes of Youth

Sweet sky and sun that seem

to reach through covering

of stern belief holding youth 

to black or white or sometimes 

gray of doubt. Unlock his mind 

to find its own young simple way.

His genes are good, his aims
are high, he needs to be released 

to try, and if he falls

it only adds to his resolve

to try again. Some say 

it is our failures that teach us 

to be strong. I only know 

there is a special haunting look

of dreams in his young eyes

a straightened back of courage

and grip of reason in his hands.

He will do well 

if he can make more good choices 

on his own.

Sea-Laughter

To the sea, to the sea

who is a laughing maid

carelessly 

tossing the froth of her 

wanton lips 

 upon the thirsty sands.

To the sea, to the sea

who is a flaunting maid 

madly

sweeping voluminous skirts of foam

across the lustrous rocks 

sunset-toned..

I am of the sea

caught in its beating peaceful monotony 

I am of the sea

and its endless breadth of shores 

and its path of quiet tide 

where cooled flesh slumbers 

with shadowed dreams 

and distant horizons.

(photo was taken in Newport Beach, CA.
a heavenly place to be)

Silence is for Listening

There are songs to be heard in silence! 
Melodies interweaving the pensive quietude 
psalms of fruitfulness and harvest to come
proclaiming life beneath the canopy of winter 
the river's mystic lament for freedom 
where bold canyons contain  its breadth ...

Once I felt the eloquence of a joyful hymn
seeing a doe in silent vigil over her fawn ...

I have heard anthems ascending mountain heights 
and Brahms Lullaby in a somnolent valley.
The songs in silent interludes! To hear them
is to banish loneliness from our solitudes.

Widow

Tonight her heart seeks quietude and rest

within a silent room where lamplight falls 

with mellow grace and flickering fire enthralls 

and lures the mind to meditative quest 

for here his presence is most manifest 

and loneliness retreats beyond the walls

it is a reconciling peace that shawls 

her being with the oneness they possessed.

Through years, in faith and trust her soul had sought 

the cherished warmth of his bold spirit's flame 

whereby love's sweet security is wrought 

he sensed her need in that unspoken claim 

and now there is the shared and secret thought 

to blaze with precious memory of his name.

(written for a dear friend that lost her husband, recently) 

Little Friendly Lake

You lure us from from duty's hurried street 

to riches not compared with coins of gold 

you offer time to rest the aching feet ...

here, prodded minds and bodies loose their hold 

from care to pause and play in wide-swung doors 

green-lacquered reeds and water lilies doze ...

while rhythmic ripples softly kiss your shores 

here, harmony and happiness repose 

and songs of birds ring heavenward and high ...

though but a mote of mirror, you reflect 

deep calm and peace in wood and field and sky

constructed by a Master Architect ....

(and the pelicans were on the lake that beautiful day

my husband is the photographer. ) 

And the Robin Sang ...

How I wanted that day to last forever! How
I wished every one  could have lived it! To
some that day was not an unusual one, for the
sun shone only as brightly as it did on any
other spring day. But those seemingly ordinary
hours were the most sublime I think I shall ever
recall for I was lifted from the despair of doubt
into a great happiness and a more complete
understanding.

The tall trees stood erect as the warm
breeze rustled their lovely green leaves. A
policeman strolled merrily through the park.
His young wife, wheeling a baby stroller
walked beside him. Through a great love and
some strange power a child had come into
being. From a tiny acorn had sprung the
stately tree beside me. Still I doubted, but at
that moment, a robin sang above me - his
time-old song revealing that which I now
understand. Surely there was a Creator, some
Divine Power to make possible this beauty I
had felt in its fullness only today. I bowed my
head in humility and prayed - prayed to a
God I knew truly existed.

The perfume of fresh lilacs filled the air -
so pure, like Him who had created them.

That day seemed everlasting, it is forever
seared in my memory. A robin had shown me
the light. Some need holy men, others a vision of a miracle but all I
needed was nature and a robin's simple notes.
I walked on, its song still echoing through
my heart and the sun was at my heels ...

Quiet Neighbors

They stand inside the terrace rim
he, six feet two, alert
she, at his side, close to him
in a quaint hoop skirt

They never talk, laugh or sigh
they never even stir
until the wind comes running by
then he sings to her

The rain to them is anodyne
they welcome snow and dew
he, the lusty Douglas pine
she, the feathery yew.

First Teacher

At our first sentence: "A man ran"
she leaned closer and listened.
Her eyes, when we read "Fan me Ann"
rounded and fairly glistened.
Then when we counted right
that eager, glad September
her smile was far the brightest light
that shone!
Yes, I remember!

(My mom was a teacher and she was my first teacher,
 Remembering that first year with her in Kindergarten, some very wonderful memories)

Mother Goose Lullaby (for my precious Rose)

Hush, you darling little thing

listen closely while I sing

'Bout the sandman who will call

when you into sleep shall fall

First, he'll give you sleepy-dust 

when your travel, sleep you must

Then he'll take you in his arms 

show you all the dreamland charms 

You shall have a hurried look 

on the folks in story-book

How they play and romp and run 

you have never seen such fun

You shall see old mother goose

with her goslings running loose 

all about a great big pond

'bout which geese are very fond

Then you'll see the jumping cow

try to figure out just how 

she could jump so very high 

o'er the moon up in the sky

Then, dear, try to solve the riddle 

'bout the cat that played the fiddle 

Next in line, the lazy spoon 

whom the dish outran too soon 

Taste Miss Muffet's curds and whey 

she was eating on that day 

then the spider came to call

she forgot to eat them all 

After you have seen this jumble

tell the sandman not to stumble

over Humpty's wall but see 

that he brings you right back to me!

It Was The Mockingbird ...

It was the mockingbird singing at night 
singing for other birds , sleeping or flown 
piping his stolen flute, trilling the light 
measures that were never his alone ...
It was his mockery, pulsing and bright 
carelessly borrowed from all that he had known 
It was the mockingbird, singing at night 
that taught me a song of my own! 

Rose

My darling little rose is growing up so quickly!
She will be 17 months on June 26th.
She is my sweetest little treasure and I love her dearly!!!

Rose Elizabeth celebrated her 1st birthday on January 26th 
She is such a joy in all of our lives and loved by all her family.

Life is good and I'm busy taking care of Rose.
We are great pals and our days are full of sunshine and love.

Wishing everyone that might read this a most wonderful and blessed New Year.
Peace and joy to all of you.

Love
Margie & Rose 

Rose

My beautiful grand daughter is so beautiful!
She is now 9 months old ...
She is so precious and I love her dearly!

We have moved to Denver and sold our house in Colorado Springs ....
Life is a new adventure and I'm loving it!
Being with little Rose brings me such joy!
I'm her Nanny-granny!
I've always so enjoyed being a Nanny to many children but to be a Nanny to Rose is so wonderful!

Wishing everyone who reads this a wonderful day and a wonderful life!
Take care and be well :) 
I probably won't be posting again for some time as I just don't have the time!

-Margie 

MY BEAUTIFUL ROSE

My lovely granddaughter was born on Jan. 26th

Her name is Rose Elizabeth

My heart is overflowing with love!

Thank you Bess & Jon for this beautiful gift.

Such a blessing and such a miracle!

A granddaughter is a gift from above

one to cherish and love.

-author unknown

____________________________________

~Promise~

Darlin'

when danger lurks

beside you

reach your hand

to close-clasp mine

_____________________________________

I will be away for a while.

Going to be with my daughter to help her with Rose.

When I return to blogging I shall be happy to visit everyone.

Till then, be well, take care and be happy!

Love

Margie

*Update* Thanks everyone for all the wonderful and kind comments!

I'm still helping with my beautiful Rose!

With Rose and her mommy all week and come home on the weekends.

All is going well and I so love my beautiful Rose!

I'm so blessed!

Heading to Denver early tomorrow morning. (Mon. Feb. 13th)

Oh, added a picture of mommy and daughter!

My precious angels!

Wishing everyone much joy and love!

Take care, you are all wonderful!

CROSS-COUNTRY

Through an avenue of trees

we slipped

cold snow squeaked

beneath our long, thin skis.

Underneath featherbeds of white

fir arms bent dowm

and brushed our shoulders

as we passed between.

We heard the rustling

of the birds

saw tracks of deer

one small, gray squirrel

ran by in fear

of who we were

two-legged creatures

in his silent world.

We reached the open meadow

sun on crystal snow

felt the sharp cold bite of wind.

Then with a rhythmic flow

of motion glided slowly down

to find protected

woods below.

____________________________________________

We have been meeting up with some of our college friends from Boston for the past six years in Breckinridge Colorado.

We all enjoy cross-country skiing

We 'll be going again in March.

LIFE'S LITTLE MIRACLE

So many, many, things take place

along life's busy way

to make us laugh, and cry and sing
each and every day ...

But the Little Miracle secure

within your eager arms

is your lease on happiness

with her captivating charms ...

So cherish and enjoy her

guide her, help her when you can

and when you see her stumble

reach out a loving, steady hand ...

Then when she's big and stands alone

be not afraid to let her go

to walk her path

with head held high

for God and Love hath made her so.

__________________________________

Picture is of my beautiful daughter, Bess.

She has grown into an amazing and wonderful young woman!

She is a blessing in my life!

MAGIC

Magic is the sun rising high

in the eastern sky

to sink in brazen glory

in the golden west.

It's the secret guarded well

that daisies won't tell

as they nod their happy heads in jest.

Magic is the free

flowing waters of the sea-

gulls overhead

wings spread in flight.

It's a glistening star

viewed from afar

shining o'er the world through the night.

Magic is the slow birth

of sweet Mother Earth

from the seedlet to the rose's bloom.

It's a pattern without reason

for every changing season

intricately woven on

Mother Nature's loom.

Magic is the wild

carefree mind of a child

as she runs 'neath laughing skies of blue.

But, more importantly

at least, it is to me

Magic is the wonder

of my love for you!

_________________________________________

This picture was taken on a visit to Palm Springs, CA.

last October. Newport Beach was truly Magical!

WHAT I NEED

A love for my heart

Good thoughts for my head

Tasks for my hands

Butter for my bread

Sleep for my nights

Work for my days

Courage for trouble

A little bit of praise

A song for my soul

Strength for any test

That's all I ask for

You take the rest

__________________________________________

This poem is a repost from 2006.

The picture was taken last year, a family picture, with my daughter and son and also lovable, sweet Jake!

Wishing everyone a Merry Christmas, and Happy Hanukkah

and a wonderful New Year full of love, peace and joy!

____________________________________________

Rejoice with your family in the beautiful land of life.

~Albert Einstein

SOMETIMES, LISTENING ...

Oh, many years were gone

before I understood

prayer is not only asking

for what I think is good

not always agonized appeal

or rapt petitioning

but sometimes silent tuning-in

Quiescent listening ...

__________________________________________

Photo was taken on my recent trip to Nova Scotia.

The lake with the water lilies was so lovely!

I sat quietly with my niece and felt such peace!

___________________________________________

Shall be back to blogging when I feel the heart of it!

Not there right now but hope to be soon.

Will try my best to do some blog visiting, though.

Have missed everyone!

~ Margie xx

SEE YOU IN OCTOBER ... (early October)

Wishing everyone a wonderful rest of the summer!

I'm taking a little break from blogging as in 3 weeks I'll be going on vacation. Heading up to Nova Scotia (one of my favorite places in the world!) to visit my family. I have so much to do before I leave and will have no time to blog.

But, I shall visit your blogs one more time before I take my break.

So, see you in October ... be well, be happy and enjoy life like the heart of a child!

Love and light ...

Margie :-)

A little poem before I leave ...

SUMMERTIME

When velvet bees rove lazily

amid the sunwarmed clovers

and summer hours drift hazily

these are the days for rovers ...

When August holds high fragrancy

and dreams are for the taking

my heart in wanton vagrancy

belies all future aching.

FIRST

Supposedly my dog Patches

never exactly belonged to me

but he was patient and gracious

helping a kid learn to play "go get it"

("fetch" was a foreign word then)

and showing me when enough was enough

("Don't wear him out" dad said

"He gets tired just as you do)

Patches ran the trails with dad

and peacefully tolerated me

as I learned that dogs need praise

and water and love.

He didn't deserve that painful death

from distemper.

Gentle little dog

wherever you wait now

maybe you barely remember me

but I need to send belated thanks

for that long-ago start

towards many years

of incomparable friendships.

_________________________________________

This is not a picture of my Patches but looks very much like him.

Patches was my first dog, my best dog !

SURPRISES

I am surprised at the red of the maples
Amazed at the spriggy young peach tree and plum
the wild berry canes are covered with silver
and here is a hoptoad big as my thumb ...

Astonished am I at the faint of the violet
that flows in among the dawn's softest gray
Delighted with noon so clear in its challenge
and almost amazed at the closing of day ...

But children, the children! Like butterflies flitting
like blooms that burst forth on a stream's
shining brink -
like birds that are spilled hit-a-miss in the
heavens -
so dazzled am I it is futile to think.

__________________________________

(Painting by artist Jack Vettriano)
http://www.heart-break.co.uk

A GALLOPING HORSE IS TODAY ...

Jump on behind, you who would ride with me

or in front for we ride bareback

in closer contact with our mount

the source of energy between our legs ...

No one can hold to slower gait

this golden day that freshened

by two days of resting clouds and showers

on the upturned face of August

leaves the restless river dappled green

with algae through which the ducks

make streaks in patterns along the shore

as they chase each other with ardor

or with punishing intent. Must we remain

static in our watching? The road

along the bank is for our riding

and there will never be an end

to our racing river. We must make

the most of this pungent day, the only one

of its special kind there will ever be.

We who find this so penetratingly sweet

in our loving of the earth and of each other

must not let a moment of this glorious day escape.

_______________________________________________

(The picture was taken by me.)

THE SEASONS

I understand the seasons now

I know their shades are varied
moods and knowing savor
each in turn ...
The lightning, sudden
frightening bolts of brightness ...
let it come ... for this is beauty
deepest mood that complements
the peaceful days ...
Then let it pass, let winds
blow soft and brush my cheek
with moistened lips ...
for this is beauty, deepest calm
that complements the stormy days ...
Let each shade color me
in turn, the red, the blue
the purple days
for I would know the shades of each
yet be the color of the whole.

TO MY HUSBAND ...

Sweetheart, you are more to me than dearness ... more than love
and yet these two are inseparably bound
in every thought and concept
I have of you ...

In your fleeting smile
and in the sweeter sound
of your lyrical voice
in every strand of hair that frames
those calm and ever comprehending eyes
that see within my very soul
and you understand and
empathize ...
________________________________
(Thank you, dearest!)
(I love you!)

LAUGHTER IS A LYRIC THING

Laughter is a lyric thing

with shining wings fluttering

through its echoes joyful notes ring

sweet laughter is a lyric thing

like the song of birds ...

Fragrances and starriness

sudden smiles ... a sweet caress

little ways that cheer and bless

surprisingly ... adventuring

like the song of birds ...

Your laughter is a lyric thing

all your love-thoughts echoing

half-dreamed wishes whispering

your laughter is a lyric thing

like the song of birds ...

____________________________________

Dedicated to my wonderful husband.

I so miss his sweet and lyrical laughter when he's away!

THE ROBIN

A cherry
or berry
has stained up your breast
it is merry
oh! very
to see you so dressed ...
you bring us
and sing us
an old but dear song
of tune-time
and June-time
of love that is strong
you appear
and you cheer
with expressions of pleasure
have brought us
and wrought us
fresh hope set to measure
playfully
gayfully
you fill our life-cup
you greet us
and meet us
with " Cheery - cheer up!"

SMALL SONGS

Some songs are silver cymbals
and some are jeweled lutes
and some are eflins dancing
and some are magic flutes
Bird songs! Fire tipped harmonies
flame across far centuries
some songs are bright wings glancing
by leaf-hid waterfalls
and others eye entrancing
and some are laughing calls
across strange space where starlight
streams-
Go, little songs and bear our dreams
some songs are flame-borne whisperings
poets have spoken of
but all are from the time-harp's strings
that God has struck - for Love.
Such charm and cheer came not by
chance-
God too loves rhythm and romance!
_________________________________________
Photo courtesy of Lorraine at:

http://wordsflowandstuffl.blogspot.com/
Thank you, Lorraine!

MANY A MOON

The tears I shed for lost balloons

and bursting bubbles soon were dried ...

my sobbing pleas for silvery moons

with lesser gifts were satisfied ...

Many a reach has failed its mark

since then and many a moon has waned ...

but love I cried for in the dark

came to bless me and remained.

HEADY DAY ...

The wrestling rain and wind of yesterday

have fought each other to a draw ...

Uncertainty died in the forgetting night

Morning is born anew

with no remembrance

of what went on before ...

The far of mountains laced with snow

are bluer in the sun and nothing stirs ...

Breathlessness becomes the newborn spring ...

The grass pricks up its tiny blades

and near the rocks the heat of sun

brings into early blossoming

flowers that spread their fragrance

over all the plain ...

There is a heady steam

of renewal in the air

as life begins again.
________________________________________
Photo taken by my husband.
He's a great photographer!

IN A VETERINARIAN'S WAITING ROOM

Our emotions are bare

as the walls surround us ...

our feelings exposed

as the pets on our laps ...

We all meet as strangers

but the things we discuss ...

are life ... love ... and death

too revealing perhaps ...

Our sick little creatures

dissolve inhibitions ...

when our names are called

we arise and depart ...

All unaware of our

own frank expositions ...

each leaving behind

a small piece of their heart!

___________________________________________

Picture is of my cat, Smokey.

She has kidney disease and I take her to our vet for IV treatments twice a week.

She is 16 years old and such a sweetheart!

I DID NOT KNOW ...

I did not know that silence

could sound like light ...

I did not know that music

could stretch a landscape into forever ...

so it could blossom into

a million gardens ...

or that my eyes could paint

a cobalt sky ...

I did not know the sight of you

would change my life forever ...

into a daily hourly hosanna

of my love for you ...

I did not know!

_______________________________________

Photo courtesy of Lorraine at:

http://wordsflowandstuffl.blogspot.com

Thanks so much, Lorraine!

THERE SHALL BE ROSES

It rained the day we said good-bye

and I heard someone say ...

"How sad that rain should bring

an added gloom."

They did not know

how much you loved spring rain ...

and what delight was yours

in strolling through your garden

on nature's wash-day ...

Soft spring rain is falling now ...

Remembering ... I pause at the window ...

You are there ... among the growing things ...

your benevolent hands caressing

the newly-washed green ... the bud ...

This spring ... there shall be roses ...

growing ... blooming ... where you sleep.

____________________________________________________________________

In memory of my dear friend, Mary.

She died in the spring of 2006.

A TOAST TO MOTHER'S

Here's to the ones who gave the life

to the souls from the starry skies

here's to the ones that encircle the earth

with the light of their loving eyes.

Here's to the one who never forgets

though I roam the wide world over

whose love can banish all regrets

God's sweetest gift - my mother!

___________________________________________

Mom, this coming Sunday is Mother's Day!

Happy Mother's day to you, in heaven!

You are always in my heart!