Tag: love

The Girl and The Butterfly

I wrote this several years ago for our oldest granddaughter, Dominique, and published it last year on WordPress in honor of her birthday. Dominique was three, I believe when the butterfly landed on her outstretched palm, and today she will be 13. Yes, Studly and I are grandparents to a teenager! Happy birthday, Dominique!

The Girl and the Butterfly

One little butterfly, orange and black circled the flowers in the summer garden.


One little girl, in red, white, and blue, danced around the flowers in the summer garden.


“Here, little butterfly!” called the girl.


But the butterfly flew higher than the girl could jump, and faster than the girl could run.


“Please!” said the girl.


No matter how hard she tried, the girl could not catch the butterfly.


“You must let the butterfly come to you when he is ready,” said Mama.


“I don’t think he will ever be ready,” sighed the little girl.


“Here, sweetheart, I have an idea,” said Mama. “Hold out your hand.”


Mama poured a drop of orange juice into the girl’s hand.


“Now hold out your hand and stay very still.”


The girl did just that.


She waited.
And waited.
And waited.


And would you believe it? The butterfly landed ever so lightly onto the girl’s hand.

The girl smiled at the butterfly, and after sipping the juice, the butterfly smiled back.

Peace, people!

I Tawt I Taw a Pudding Cat

  
Pudding is a beautiful Siamese-mix female with a sweet disposition. The staff at TAS believe she is about a year old. She gets a lot of attention at Tallahassee Animal Services, but the right person hasn’t come along yet.

Yesterday Pudding and I had a long talk. It went something like this:

Me: Hey Pudding baby, what’s going on?

Pudding: Well, I’m still here. In this (sniff) kennel, so how do you THINK it’s going?

Me: I’m sorry. That was really insensitive of me.

Pudding: That’s ok. You’re only human. 

Me: True.

Pudding: Listen, would you remind people that cats need homes. I hear people ooh and ahh over all these kittens. Can’t they see I’m worth oohing and aging over, too?

Me: oooooh! Aaaaaaah!

Pudding: (Sniff) Not you silly. REAL people. You’re a volunteer. Unless of course you want to take me home….

Me: (backing away from the kennel) Gotta go Pudding–I’ll steer people your way.

Pudding: Chicken!!! Bok bok bok!

Pudding really is adorable! And she’s ready to be oohed and aahed over!

Remember, adopt, don’t shop! Visit your local shelter today.

Peace, people!

Hearts

  
The human heart,
with its four chambers
looks nothing like a
valentine heart.

Yet, I love you
with my whole heart:
Both atria, two ventricles,
and every valve, too.

Now if that
isn’t romantic,
then I don’t
know what is.

  
Peace, people!

Another Cut

Right here.
You can’t see it,
but there’s a
tiny cut,
horizontal across
my soul.
It intersects
another
slice at a
right angle.

Normally I’d
enjoy such
precision, but
this array
is more
disturbing
than
appealing,
And totally
unnecessary.

  

Catch Me

If I choose to wander
too far afield,
If I climb too steeply,
If I dare to chase a vague dream,
Will you choose to catch me?

If I do not always get the
words just right,
If I don’t always discern the truth,
If you and I cannot agree,
Will you still value me?

Or must I fit into the box
we’ve constructed,
the comfortable conveyance
that defines my role
for you to deem me worth catching?

  

Unravel

He offered her a cloth
of intricately woven golden
threads, beautiful, yet
comforting, a shelter from
her storms.

Gratefully she accepted his
gift of warmth and love,
marveling at the complexity
of the workmanship and moved
by his generosity.

Bound by his offering, they
found peace and filled
their lives with love and
laughter, until she
noticed a tiny imperfection
in the cloth.

It wasn’t much, just a hint
of gray in the golden threads,
but it caused a dissatisfaction
in her restless spirit, and
old storms brewed anew.

Try as she might she could
not ignore the gray amidst
the gold.

Maybe, she thought, I can just
pull out this thread and all
will be well with my heart.
But once begun the task had
no end.

Gray became the color of
her discontent. One thread
led to another until she
touched more gray than
gold.

He watched her snipping
threads, not knowing how
to help, loving her even
as she worked at dismantling
his gift, his heart.

In the end, she sat alone
surrounded by threads of
gray and gold.

Too late she realized
the gray strands
were ones she’d added to
the tapestry by joining
her life to his.

Drawing by Kimberley Campbell-Picasa

Badger

At Tallahassee Animal Services there’s an adult male cat named Badger. He’s the sweetest guy and loves to be snuggled and groomed. But Badger has only one eye, so people barely pause by his kennel. 

Sometimes they look in, but I’ve not seen one person ask to take him out and hold him. Of course I’m only at the shelter for a couple of hours each week. I fervently hope that he gets some attention when I’m not there.

I’ve begun taking him out of his kennel at the beginning of my shift and again before I leave. We talk. I tell him my problems and he listens like a pro. He, on the other hand, never complains. But he does wink, and you know a girl enjoys a good wink.

Badger is an easygoing guy with a sweet personality. He’d make a fine companion. 

 

Showing his best side.
 
Remember, don’t shop, adopt!

Good Question

  
You, yes, you
sitting there
reading your
book, washing
the dishes,
or working
on your tan.
Do you love
yourself?

If not, then
it’s way past
time you began
learning how.

We have to first
love ourselves
before we can
truly, honestly
love others.

Fear, mistrust,
anger, might all
become dead
emotions,
ancient texts to
be buried and
never resurrected.

List yourself
first among those
you love, and
love will expand
to encompass the
whole world.

  
Peace (and love) people!

Paper Pictures

Great artists
work in
a variety of
media:
construction
paper and glue,
glitter and
fingerpaints,
thumbprints in
tempera.
They do not
concern themselves
with brush stroke
techniques or
fickle critics,
their only goal
a smile from a
proud recipient,
a place reserved
on the fridge.

 

two works of art by our youngest grandchild.

Peace, people! 

Heavy

heavy hearted
heavy handed
heavy on the sauce
heavy stories on the
down low,
heavy eyes
break your soul
why’s everything have to
be so hard?
so heavy all the time?
wanta lighten up
but everything’s just so
heavy.

  
Peace, people.