Little Red Sneakers (A Poem and reblog)

I am posting this yet again, as I see people still look this one up now and again. Enjoy!!!

Here is a poem from my journal that was written 6/21/93.  It is about my children and wanting never to forget all the special memories of their childhood. The red sneakers were Patrick’s, and they were little  canvas high tops-so cute!  (He had several different pairs, and I even saved a pair of velcro cuties!)

This poem is titled:

LITTLE RED SNEAKERS

I want to remember,

Little red sneakers, sandboxes and swings,

and all the little childhood things.

Little Red Sneakers 🙂 (Yes, I saved them)

Joyful laughter-wiping tears, I want to remember through the years.

Ice cream, lollipops and licorice,too,

Wagons and bicycles-a stroller for two.

Christmases and birthdays, when everyone’s over,

Ernie and Bert, Oscar and Grover.

Bathing suits and summer fun, a kiss and hug for everyone.

Carousels and pony rides, cookouts and climbing slides.

A wading pool, chock-full of toys,

Climbing trees is for little boys!

Scampering feet on wooden floors,

Singing kid songs behind closed doors.

Christopher Robin and Winnie The Pooh,

Owl, Eeyore, Kanga and Roo.

Reading books on Mommy’s lap,

Patrick

“Come on now kids, it’s time for your nap!”

Cookies and milk before going to bed.

Stroking blonde hair on a tired boys head.

The kiss and the hug,  the ” I  Love You!” before sleeping,

Lies deep within my heart, worth keeping.

These things I want to remember with pleasure.

Worth more than gold,

It’s a mother’s treasure!

The End

The Goblins Will Get Ya If Ya Don’t Watch Out! A Poem For Halloween!

Hello all!

I decided I’d post something fun.  Here is another poem my mother would read to us when we were small, and we loved it!  I can still hear her voice as she raised and lowered her voice to fit the parts.  It was funny,but scary.  And of course, I would read it to my children, with much enthusiasm.  It’s the only way.  You’ll see what I mean when you read it.  So Enjoy and share this one.  But remember…be good!

This is by James Whitcomb Riley:

To all the little children: — The happy ones; and sad ones;The sober and the silent ones; the boisterous and glad ones; The good ones — Yes, the good ones, too; and all the lovely bad ones.

Little Orphant Annie
by
James Whitcomb Riley

Little Orphan Annie’s come to my house to stay.
To wash the cups and saucers up and brush the crumbs away.

To shoo the chickens from the porch and dust the hearth and sweep,

and make the fire and bake the bread to earn her board and keep.

While all us other children, when the supper things is done,

we sit around the kitchen fire and has the mostest fun,

a listening to the witch tales that Annie tells about

and the goblins will get ya if ya don’t watch out!

Once there was a little boy who wouldn’t say his prayers,

and when he went to bed at night away up stairs,

his mammy heard him holler and his daddy heard him bawl,

and when they turned the covers down, he wasn’t there at all!

They searched him in the attic room and cubby hole and press

and even up the chimney flu and every wheres, I guess,

but all they ever found of him was just his pants and round-abouts

and the goblins will get ya if ya don’t watch out!!Once there was a little girl who always laughed and grinned

and made fun of everyone, of all her blood and kin,

and once when there was company and old folks was there,

she mocked them and she shocked them and said, she didn’t care.

And just as she turned on her heels to go and run and hide,

there was two great big black things a standing by her side.

They snatched her through the ceiling fore she knew what shes about,

and the goblins will get ya if ya don’t watch out!!

When the night is dark and scary, and the moon is full

and creatures are a flying and the wind goes Whoooooooooo,

you better mind your parents and your teachers fond and dear,

and cherish them that loves ya, and dry the orphans tears

and help the poor and needy ones that cluster all about,

or the goblins will get ya if ya don’t watch out!!!

This Scares Me, Too!

One Morning The World Woke Up – A Poem About The Ending Of War On Earth

I am posting a poem that my mother had me read a long time ago and it stayed with me…almost haunting me.  It is by Oscar Williams and it is especially perfect for today, with all the war and terrible tragedies going on in the world today. Although it mentions the Jews, you can put yourself or anyone else in their place. It really makes you think, and it is almost impossible to imagine a world without war, but it is beautiful to imagine.  The last stanza gives you the hope you almost are afraid to wish for, for you cannot imagine it ever happening, but it is nice to think about.  Read on and dream…

One Morning the World Woke Up

One morning the world woke up and there was no news;
No gun was shelling the great eardrum of the air
No Christian flesh spurted beneath the subtle screws,
No moaning came from the many agony-faced Jews,
Only the trees in a gauze of wind trembled and were fair.

No trucks climbed into the groove of an endless road,
No tanks were swaying drunken with death at the hilltop,
No bombs were planting their bushes of blood and mud,
And the aimless tides of unfortunates no longer glowed:
A break in the action at last…all had come to a stop.

Those trees danced, in their delicate selves half furled
And a new time on the glittering atmosphere was seen; The lightning stuttering on the closed eyelid of the world
Was gone, and an age of horizons had dawned, soft, pearled.
The world woke up to a scene like spring’s first green.

Birds chirped in waterfalls of little sounds for hours,
Rainbows, in miniature nuggets, were stored in the dews,
The sky was one vast moonstone of the tenderest blues,
And the meadows lay carpeted in three heights of flowers:
One morning the world woke up and there was no news.

Lone Soldier

Little Red Sneakers (via Cherylmcnulty’s Blog)

I know I’ve reblogged this before, but I think it is a great poem and many people enjoyed this last time. Here’s one for all the moms that “want to remember” and know that special times with little ones never really last for very long. Thank God for memories! Enjoy!

    Here is a poem from my journal that was written 6/21/93.  It is about my children and wanting never to forget all the special memories of their childhood. The … Read More

via Cherylmcnulty’s Blog

Goodbye Max

Max being cute

Max with my daughter Caitlin

Ready for Fall

Waiting

Loved to be held

Waiting...again. Is it for me?

This is probably the hardest post I will ever write.  My dog Max, our min- pin of 11 years, had to be put down Wednesday from complications from diabetes.  He was a tough guy, and looked like he had 9 lives, always coming back from a set back.  He was tired.

We knew it was time and he let us hug him endlessly before he was put down.  That part was just so hard. I can’t get it out of my mind.  He just lay there on the vet table with his head between his paws as if to say, “I’m ready”…but we weren’t.

Enough of that.  He was a great, smart dog and if I were ever to get another, it would be another min-pin, most definitely.  He was part clown, I’m sure.  They told us when we got him he would not be a lap dog…wrong!  He loved being held. He had energy I would kill for!  And as far as a watch dog…the best!  We will never forget him.  He was my first pet that I ever picked out, and I trained him myself.  He was easy at that too!

Anyway, the part that hits me the most, now, is the quiet.   I can’t get used to it.  I keep expecting him to pounce on me while I lay sleeping on the couch, to tell me to take him out and put him into the basement where his bed was. The quiet is what is killing me the most.  When the postman comes, and the Chem Lawn guy comes, and we come home from jobs and school…the quiet gets you!

His dish is still sitting on the floor, and something is holding me back from putting it away. Am I crazy!  I try telling myself that he’s better off and without pain and in a better place, but I want him with me!  I will try to be less selfish, and I have to go on, but Max..we love you always!  You were the best and you won’t be forgotten, ever.  Until we meet again…<3

Here is a video for “Rainbow Bridge”

Please watch.. and have a tissue ready.:(

The video was disabled…you have to click again on where it says “watch it on you tube”.

The Dream

I wrote this just recently as I started a new job and seemed I would never get back to my drawing again.  I get depressed and sullen when I can’t get back to the drawing board and express my emotions in art.  It’s just a part of me.

The other day, I just started thinking how long I have been at this and trying to become published on cards or flags…anything. To have a company decide to say “yes, we’ll try this”, instead of all the rejections.  More than 25 years I have been doing this.  And so , I decided to write this poem about someone who had to finally give up the dream, and say goodbye.  When you are an artist at heart, you can never truly say goodbye to the dream, but this is what it felt like to me. And yes, I cried.  And I can’t say I will truly ever give up.  Here is the poem:

The Dream

*I’ve come to say goodbye.

Although I will think of you often,  I have to grow up now and think of other things.

It was nice to think about you, though,

giving me the hope that I had something more to offer in my lifetime, so I wouldn’t feel so dead inside.

I guess it was just all a fallacy,

thinking I could somehow be another Mary Engelbreit,

living a life full of creativity and art and making a difference in the world.

You will forever be on my mind, but I will try hard to forget you.

It is just too painful.

I will now be too busy and  have other things to worry about,

like schedules, appointments and the daily rush.

So see, it won’t be so hard to forget you.

But you will always be a part of me and I know the memory of you will come out in random times of quietness and solitude.

I will think about how you made me feel alive, young, energetic and full of hope,

possibly changing the way the world thinks-

but I guess it wasn’t meant to be, you and I.

I’m so sorry.

Maybe I never really gave you the full attention and dedication,

even the time to our relationship, so you could grow the way you should have.

But life happens and things get put on hold and we fall back,

and I’m just too tired now to start over again and deal with the rejections

and trying to find someone to bring this all together.

So goodbye dream.  Goodbye for now.

I’m grateful you came into my life when you did.

Maybe someday, after I’m gone, they will find pieces of you and me and our lives together

and what could’ve been, and somehow put us back together.

And maybe then they will see our relationship wasn’t “all for nothing”.

Then maybe, just maybe, something we created together will be revealed… and possibly…

… stir up a memory

…reinforce a thought

…change an attitude

…make a difference.

I just wont be here to see it… and that’s okay.

And so, Dream, you won’t just shrivel up and die,

you will live on…

like you were intended to do all along. 🙂

Cheryl<3

I Want To Go Back

The Time To Be Happy Is Now

Sometimes the world seems like such a stressed-out place to be, that I wish I could go back in time and be a child all over again.

I want to go back… back to when I was about 5 years old  and living at home.

The feeling of being safe and free from worry.

Thinking back…

back…

back… I can see myself running outside in the crisp,cool air.

I was always outside.

Being small, energetic and young, I can play outside all day and not even tire.

I’m running,  always running.  Out toward the wide open space of the field that is behind my house.

It is early fall, and most likely at dusk.  My cheeks are cold, my nose is cold, but it feels good.

I stop for just a moment and listen… I hear the crows.  I smell the damp earth.  My toes tingle.

Looking back at my house in the distance,  I can see that the light is on in my warm kitchen.

Mom is probably at the sink as supper is being prepared.

What will it be?  A roast perhaps, gravy…and mashed potatoes.  There’s always potatoes.

I feel warm inside.

My family will be there when I get back. Mom, dad ,grandma, my older sister, and 3 younger brothers.

The house will be warm and safe.

But for now, I’m out in all this space by myself ,  yet  somehow, I don’t feel alone.

I couldn’t be with all this beauty.  So much to investigate…rocks, leaves, mud.

I have no schedule.  I don’t care about the time.

I just have to wait for the streetlight to come on, and then I’ll  go home to eat supper.

I’ll be fed and have a warm bath.

I’ll sit by grandma on the couch watching tv and lean on her warm, smooth arm.  I may even fall asleep there.

Someone will pick me up and put me to bed.  Is it dad?  Is it Mom?  I don’t care.

I’ll be tucked in and have my doll with me.

Someone will kiss me and turn off the light.

Then I’ll be in total darkness, but I won’t feel afraid.

I’m free,   I’m loved and I am safe.  That’s all that matters.

Yes, take me back!

I’d give anything  to go back in time and be a child all over again.

Just to experience the freedom from worry again .  The way we were excited in the little things.

To watch the world go by….

I thought it would last forever.

Silly me. 🙂

Grandma’s House…It’s Heaven!/ A Poem

 

The front of Grandma's House

Well, I never made it for Thursday’s Poet Rally , but I’m posting this anyway.

This was a poem I wrote for My Mother-In-Law’s birthday a very long while ago.  We all had to write a poem about what made her so special to us.  I just thought about what my kids would have written if they had to do this, so it was from a child’s point of view.  As you read ,  you’ll see there are many reasons why she was, and still is, so special. Even though she has changed her address (not 57 Don anymore),and has slowed down her pace a little bit, she still holds her own.  Everyone still likes to go visit Grandma’s House!

Here Goes:

             Grandma’s House…It’s Heaven!

*Someone once asked me if I believed there’s a heaven.

I replied that I did, “It’s at Don, 57!”

That’s the street and the house where my grandmother stays,

where she sews and she bakes and weaves love through her days.

And what would you find at my grandmother’s house?

Well, I’ll just name a few:

First, there’s that huge pool out back and Papa’s barbecue!

Then there’s the deck where we dry off and snack, we can’t forget that, too!

There’s a large playroom down cellar and a swing set outside!

In the garage, there’s a go-kart, where we take turns for a ride.

And Grandma’s kitchen holds smells of all her baking and cooking,

but it seems she must do this when no one is looking!

There’s always chocolate chip cookies and brownies, homemade!

Drinks of coffee milk, soda and iced lemonade!

There’s roast turkey and pork chops, hot dogs and fries,

ice cream and cakes, assorted pudding and pies!

Even Dad’s never seen a steak THAT size!

For snacks, she keeps a great, big shelf , and I always want to help  myself!

There’s gumdrops and chocolate bars, potato chips, too!

Corn curls and lollipops and gum to chew!

You can even take some home with you!

You’ll see fancy quilts and cloth dolls, and Grandma’s sewn every stitch!

If she sold all her treasures, I’m sure she’d be rich!

There’s plush chairs and pretty towels, lots of linen and lace…

“Hey, isn’t that chocolate on Kelsey’s face?”

There’s magazines, newspapers and books Grandma’s read.

Plenty of band-aids for boo-boos and kind words said.

Then holidays are always great, as Grandma loves to decorate.

She puts colored eggs out for Easter, and leaves out for Fall.

At Christmas, there’s gold-ribboned  wreaths on the wall.

I just don’t know how she does it all!

Now, there’s a roast in the oven and turkey soup in the pot.

Take a plate, stand in line, while supper’s still hot!

Grab a chair, sit on down, relax, take it slow.

Because at Grandma’s, it’s heaven on earth, don’t you know!

                            The End 

Now after reading this, it sounds like it would make a great children’s picture book!  I think I may just try this!

Hope you liked it, and I bet it sounded like a Grandma you know, too! 🙂

A Poem About “Young Love”

Okay, I’m just going to throw this one out there. This is a poem I wrote when I was dating my husband. He lived a distance away when we were first dating and so I didn’t really see him much, except for weekends.

You know the feeling you have when you’ve just started dating the person, and can’t seem to get them out of your mind?  Just call it “young love”.

Anyway, all embarrassment aside, here is a poem titled “If I’m Dreaming”. Written January 9,1982 (wow!).

          If I’m Dreaming

If I’m dreaming please don’t wake me

I want this to last forever

and I don’t think that I could ever

bear the thought you’re just a dream.

I keep on thinking, what if someday

as we’re together growing older

someone just taps me on the shoulder

and it all just fades away.

Or we may be kissing on my doorstep

when a voice is heard behind me

and as I turn to look , I’ll find me

back in my room and all alone.

Or you could be lying close beside me

and as you wrap your arms around me

an empty blanket I’ll find surrounds me

when I open up my eyes.

I don’t want to go on thinking

that someday I’ll soon awaken

and find my heart has just been taken

on a never-ending ride.

We have something much too special

to have it last for just one nighttime

a love like ours should last a lifetime

not for just an hours sleep.

So if I find that I’m just dreaming

I’ll pray the Lord to sleep forever

so that I won’t have to ever

be without you by my side. 🙂

Well, there it is.  Hope you enjoyed this and maybe somehow relate.:)

Ernest H. Shepard

When I was a little girl, my mom would read to my sister and I before bed and it was usually from A.A. Milne’s, “Winnie The Pooh” or “Now We Are Six”.  I simply loved the stories and assorted poems.  For me, Shepard’s simple black, ink drawings were perfect, and I couldn’t wait for my mother to turn each page to reveal the next one!  I truly believe these drawings influenced the way I draw today.

Shepard  seemed to draw children so simply, yet the form and actions of the children he drew were so life-like. Whether it’s Christopher Robin kicking up leaves in his high boots as he walks along with his nanny, marching to the pond with his fishing pole, skipping rope or just sitting up in his bed with the “sneezles”, it’s so innocent  and real.  He’s captured everything perfectly in a tiny black sketch, that I try to capture in an illustration that’s completely colored.  Sometimes, it’s more perfect in it’s simpleness.

When I want to be inspired creatively, I sometimes just go through these books by Milne. I want to try to capture the same feeling I had when my mother read to me from these books long ago -a combination of innocence, playfulness and comfort. 

The two, Milne and Shepard, were perfect together for these books and I’m sure they will be favorites for years to come.:)

Shepard's drawing from poem "Buttercup Days". My favorite.