Cherished

Cherished Memory

lillian51 Comments

He was a quiet man. I don’t remember playing with my father or hearing words of praise or love. I don’t remember hugs. But I do remember a few summer mornings each year when I was young. A silent drive to the lake. A long walk out the pier. He’d take a wriggly worm from an old tin can and put it on the end of my bamboo pole. And we’d sit. Just sit. A skinny little girl with giraffe-knobby knees and her whiskered dad, under the rising sun and ever bluing sky. No need for words. No need to catch a thing.

Steadfast sky and sun,
their promise always fulfilled.
Light shall break through clouds.

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It’s Haibun Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, where Toni asks us to write a haibun about the day sky. Thanks Toni. Your prompt brought back this cherished memory.

Baby Album

lillian11 Comments

I still look at it.
On birthdays and occasional winter days,
when the snow swirls
and makes the windows glazed.
I wanted to keep moments of you
for you to meet, much later in life.
Lock of hair, corn silk fine.
Stick figures with circle knees
drawn by pudgy hands.
First this and first that.
A young mother’s notes.
Faded ink and colors smudged,
spine too thin for all within.
I wanted to keep moments of you
for you to meet, much later in life.

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Written for a June challenge from Holly Wren Spaulding’s class: write about something you saved for someone else.

Reunion

lillian2 Comments

Friendly foursome of youth
we lived near Mississippi shores
dancing with fire flies,
oblivious to time.

Fifty years of days gone by
we meet again,
laughter etched in faces lined,
steps slowed by trials of time.

Remember-when stories shared
told and retold louder now.
Sitting young in wizened frames,
we laugh and love in cherished time.

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Old friends. Young hearts. Augustana College is located in Rock Island, Illinois — along the shores of the mighty Mississippi – our alma mater. 

Elegy

lillian31 Comments

Father to five, beloved son,
you left far too suddenly.
Unable to escape or run,
knees buckled at Death’s glee.

And we were left behind in shock,
screams and rampant grief.
Angry words turned empty talk,
echoed wails with no relief.

Standing graveside, stooped in loss,
tears drenched with memories
fell upon your coffin etched with cross,
placed ‘neath quaking Aspen trees.

Rest now, my brother dear
and know that we are well.
Your children’s children keep you near,
and their children shall as well.

For all their hopes in future years
their smiles, their deeds in numbers swell,
all of these my brother dear
your legacy do tell.

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Written for dVerse — asking us to do an elegy today.
Photo is my brother, nine years older than me, died far too young at 51. Gone more than twenty years, I still miss him.

Memorial Day 2016

lillian47 Comments

Stars and stripes ripple in the breeze,
spirits from thousands past
breathing life into those folds of cloth.
The lone sound of Taps cuts through crisp air
bearing witness to their sacrifice,
the price they willingly paid
that we might live in freedom’s path.

american-flag-373362_1920Bjorn is tending the bar today at dVerse Poets’ Pub and asks us to write a quadrille (44 words) using the word “breeze.”  Taps is a slow haunting melody, traditionally performed by a lone bugler, at military funerals and ceremonies.  Today, May 30, 2016 is Memorial Day in the USA – a day on which we honor those patriots who died serving our country; and give thanks to all veterans who have served or are serving today.

 

A Step Through Time

lillian30 Comments

Ah youth
tis so hard to say goodbye.
Twirl the rope instead of jump
avoid the puddles instead of stomp.
Piggy bank replaced by credit card,
stiff joints and aging spots.

The antidote is children’s laughter,
hugs and kisses, daring do,
dragons, dollies and make-believe.
Clocks turn magically backwards,
surround sounds of silliness
in gramma’s visits to Neverland .

Written for dVerse Poets’ Pub: Abhra tending bar asks us to write a poem about a temporary goodbye. Just back from a family visit — and a return to my writing — I thought this appropriate!  Various photos of me and grandkids — they do keep me young! 🙂

 

Helen

lillian45 Comments

Unpredictable.
Lightning flashes,
hot licks that seared your soul.
Rosary beads tucked in drawer
near lace-edged handkerchiefs
and candy wrappers.
Pinochle, canasta
she held the deck,
played war occasionally.
A one-man woman she
danced to big band sounds.
Buried sister, son
two birthdays apart,
hers not theirs.
Gone these many years,
she still pops in and out
unpredictably.

mom

Walt is hosting dVerse Poets’ Pub today, asking us to write about a character.
She was indeed.

Memoir

lillian55 Comments

i remember
skip-to-my-lou
kukla, fran and ollie
days of the week underpants
and uncle howie’s store
the wisconsin dells’ wooden indian
my lone ranger lunch box
howdy doody’s freckles
miss tews’ ballet school
and kindergarten with junie z

any one out there
remember me?

A man dressed as the Lone Ranger rides his horse along the pier as the aircraft carrier USS RANGER (CV-61) ties up behind him. The RANGER has returned to North Island following its deployment to the Persian Gulf region for Operation Desert Shield and Operation Desert Storm.

A quadrille (44 words) written for dVerse using the word “skip.” Skip to My Lou is a popular children’s song – begun in 1826 as a lyrical game in Abraham Lincoln’s youth in southern Indiana and Kentucky, it became a partner-stealing dance in the 1840s. In my childhood, we literally skipped along the sidewalk singing this song. Photos: The Lone Ranger; Kukla, Fran and Ollie; and Howdy Doody – tv shows popular in the 1950s. Me playing dress-up with Junie Z, on a Wisconsin Dells vacation, and ready for a Miss Tews dancing recital.