Posts Tagged ‘poem’

GRANDMA – In Memory of Muriel Blaine

The willow and the hammock,

The flowers, the open sky,

I remember her home with fondness

Even as the years go by.

Her hard work in the garden,

Her doilies in crochet,

Those evenings on the porch swing

Mean more than I can say.

Sunday beads and earrings,

With Bible by her side,

She knew the Lord, she loved the hymns,

She sang and hummed and cried.

Her voice was love and kindness,

Her heart, wise as her owls,

The children were her jewels

She talked with us for hours.

The games we played as family

Are memories I will keep.

She laughed and squealed and screamed in delight

And made our fun complete.

In the kitchen when guitars strummed

We loved to watch in awe

As she and Grandad jitterbugged

Without a care at all.

They’re reaching for each other’s hands,

I can see them still.

One crosses, and one waits in joy–

Together in The City on the hill.

—-Julie Blaine Morris


Read Full Post »

The Loss of Ellen

A piece of paper

At our birth

Saves us space

Upon this Earth

A note on paper

In our death

Decrees our absence,

A halting breath

This bit of paper

Held in my hand

Sinks emotion,

Sifts through time’s sand

A sheet of paper

When we grieve,

A whisper thin wafer

As we bereave

A crumpled paper

Brings hot tears

Among these laughing

Happy years

A snatch of paper

Held in my hand

Glares black and white

It cannot stand!

Your legal paper

I grasp in awe

My mouth is dumb

My features fall

Your patch of paper

Pains my head

The heart denies

You can’t be dead!

This clinic paper

Shows not your sum,

Your life, your smile-

Your songs unsung!

This strip of paper

Insults the whole,

Unglads my God,

Unties my soul.

Their tat of paper

Is not the love

Who nurtured me,

Who’s gone above.

Take back this paper,

Recycle, reuse.

She’s not this pulp,

She’s mom– I refuse.

Read Full Post »

The Mourning Winter

Winter knew he was gone.

The season saw us all alone,

And so winter snowed and snowed.

Bare trees wept and groaned,

The silent white morning

Mourned his spirit going.

The dead leaves bowed down,

The dark sky made no sound

As flakes fell to the ground-

Respectful silence all around.

And our hearts were hurt, and raged

For his going now, at this age.

He left us like the sun

In winter’s clutches, light was done.

The darkened void he left-

Felt more than just a death.

Winter covered our depression

In hopes the pain would lessen.

The cold season sat beside us.

It sat unmoving, cried with us.

Died with us.

O White winter, bleak and bare,

O Metaphor of soul’s despair,

Deep drifting blanket still and frozen,

As a cold memorial, you’re chosen.

O Winter un-removed, unfinished,

Leave us!  Our rest and hope’s diminished.

Read Full Post »