Harper D’s Day

Our youngest grandchild, Harper, celebrates her third birthday today. That seems impossible. Only yesterday she was a tiny, helpless infant. Nowadays, she’s a feisty little handful who talks to me on FaceTime for as long as she can make herself sit still. Then it’s “I’m all done with Nana!” and off she goes to sing “Uptown Funk” or “Let it Go.”

I wrote this poem for Harper when she was upset about not getting to attend school with her older siblings.

D Wants to Ride

The big yellow bus came to D’s house today.
Garrett got on the big yellow bus.
McKayla got on the big yellow bus.
D could not get on the big yellow bus.

“You must be three, and you are only two,” said Garrett.
“You are way too little,” said McKayla.
“I am big,” said D.

“I can count,
I can sing,
I can climb,
I can swing.”

“Just one more year,” said Garrett.
“You will be a big girl next year,” said McKayla.
“But I AM a big girl!” Insisted D.

“I can play,
I can dance,
I can run
Really fast!”

“D,” said Garrett, “Be our baby for awhile.”
“D,” said McKayla, “Stay little for awhile.”
D thought and thought. “OK,” she said.

“I will be your baby for one more year.
I will still count and sing, climb and swing.
I will still play and dance and run very fast.
But next year I will get on the big yellow bus!”

“Bye, D,” said Garrett.
“Bye, D,” said McKayla.

“Bye big yellow bus!” said D. “I’ll see you next year.”

   

 

Songs About Amarillo

There seem to be a great many songs about Amarillo, Texas. In fact, if one googles songs about Amarillo the question, “why are there so many songs about Amarillo?” pops up.

If I were to take a guess, I’d say it’s probably because the word, “Amarillo” has a musical quality. Spanish for “yellow,” it rolls off the tongue and works well in country songs. And when George Strait sings “Amarillo by Morning” it’s absolutely beautiful.

http://youtu.be/0rdzq60IAVU

Other Amarillo-titled songs:

“Amarillo Sky”

“Amarillo Highway”

“Amarillo”

“I Did My Time in Amarillo”

“Is This the Way to Amarillo”
 

Like a Garden

a blog is a garden.
while well-tended, blossoms appear:
fragrant jasmine, thorned roses,
upright jacks-in-the-pulpit.

when neglected, weeds sprout:
persistent dandelions, stubborn
pigweed, and annoying quackgrass.

mine requires a little TLC,
sunshine, moisture, and copious
amounts of fertilizer. manure.

fortunately i seem to possess
more than enough of the latter
commodity. i’m full of it.

  

Free Speech

Speaking candidly
aggravates the insecure
liberates others.

Don’t speak down to me
I’m no one’s little woman
I respect respect.

Propaganda earns
only scorn and disbelief
hard truths are preferred.

Vintage WWII propaganda poster

Painting Angels

Wish I’d written this! Read more of her work at movingtowardsthelight.com

Vonita's avatarPoems and Petals

image

If I could paint angels
I would paint angels surrounding me
I would paint all the souls I miss every day
Into life and have them here to stay
I would paint them from my heart
So they could be outside me
And I would never throw
The paintings away

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True North

I’ve stopped pretending
reality struck my eyes
there’s no canvas here

blame hesitation
procrastination and lies
forgive my lapses

without my compass
true north escapes detection
I’m left foundering

  

Rose directs, pointing

Sharp angles of distinction

Circle trapped petals.

Peace, people!

Countdown to Texas

    Four days to Texas
    Amarillo bound
    Can’t wait to see my baby
    When I hit that dusty ground.

    Goin’ home, after years gone by
    Goin’ home, tryin’ not to cry
    Tears of joy and happiness
    When my baby’s by my side.
    Goin’ home.

    Three days to Texas
    I can feel it drawing near
    Like a hot blast of air
    And a cold Budweiser beer.

    Goin’ home, after years gone by
    Goin’ home, tryin’ not to cry
    Tears of joy and happiness
    When my baby’s by my side.
    Goin’ home.

    Two more days to Texas
    Amarillo here I come
    Where the air smells of cattle
    And cowboys get work done.

    Goin’ home, after years gone by
    Goin’ home, tryin’ not to cry
    Tears of joy and happiness
    When my baby’s by my side.
    Goin’ home.

    One last day to Texas
    Back to my country roots
    I’ll put aside my flip flops
    And don my old black boots.

    Goin’ home, after years gone by
    Goin’ home, tryin’ not to cry
    Tears of joy and happiness
    When my baby’s by my side.
    Goin’ home.

    And now the wheels are touching
    a runway on the plains
    broad prairie sweeps around me
    It’s different, but the same.

    I’m home, after years gone by
    I’m home, tears start to fall
    In my baby’s arms I’ve finally found
    My home.

     

    Palo Duro Canyon–a must visit in the Texas panhandle
      
    Historic Route 66 runs through Amarillo
       

    All My Bags are Packed

    Truly my bags are packed. I’m off to Texas tomorrow for a Doright family reunion. 

    Positives (in no particular order):

    1. Seeing my children and grandchildren. Hugging will happen.
    2. Hanging out with Saint Helen. 🙂
    3. Visiting with the Doright clan, especially Studly’s sisters and his brother.
    4. Saint Helen’s cooking. Yummmmmm!
    5. The Doright Family Auction–always a hoot.
    6. Getting to see my Aunt Nedra and Uncle Richard.
    7. Touching base with old friends.
    8. Eating Tex-Mex food. 

    Negatives:

    1. Getting up at 4 a.m. To make my flight. Ugh!
    2. That’s it. No more negatives. Going to bed now.

    Peter, Paul, and Mary: Leaving on a Jet Plane. This song always makes me cry.

    http://youtu.be/c8jEapecSqc
    Peace, people!

    Poetry Slam

    Wham! Bam! Thank you, Ma’am

    Get on the floor for the poetry slam

    Don’t be shy and don’t ask why

    Just find your rhyme and jam.

    Everyone’s got a bit of poesy

    Running through their veins.

    Sing it or swing it or talk it out

    Make a noise, a joyful, raucous

    Boisterous poetic contribution

    Shout it from the tallest tower

    Forget your grown up hang ups

    Hang a left at the corner of meter

    Where Iambic pentameter plays

    And dissonance, resonance, even

    Romantic persuasion hold sway.

    Pour out your heart and find your soul

    Rock and roll and take no prisoners.

    Peace, people.

      

    I’d love to be part of a poetry slam. Even if it scares me to death!