Oh Brother! Thou Art A Bother!

You I have loved and watched over
Since about the time I turned three years of age
Are a worry to me know as we both age.

I worry about your health
While you worry about losing your hair,
And your youth, and your money.

I worry about your ability to keep working
To pay your singular way in the world
As you try to keep it all "juggled and afloat".

I know that I cannot take your troubles from you
And place them on my own full plate,
And you would never allow this to take place.

Why could you not stay a sweet, happy, little boy
And why could I not retain my great energy of old?
Then, I could just shake my head and laugh at you!

You art a bother, yes you certainly are.
But, at the end of these days I am glad for this:
You art my brother, dear and beloved all these years.

The Room at the House of Pies


This morning as I sat across from my spouse breakfasting
In the front room at the House of Pies where oft we eat,
Two tables behind my love caught my eyes and ears.
So I sat there and shamelessly - eavesdropped.

At one booth, sat two diners seated on just one side,
A caring mother and her grown daughter.
First one would caress then the other
Would lovingly touch back.

Daughter chortled on happily about her girl-roomies,
And a boy-roomie who had irritated all of them.
He had summarily been advised of his terrible
Transgressions against the whole gender, and moved out.

Then mother spoke of her next visit to daughter.
And when they left, mother was embraced as they walked.
Cherished, was what came to my mind.
Their feelings were mutually alive and well.

At the other table a young mother and her toddler
Sat across the booth from the young mother's - parents possibly.
These parents, both stiff, seeming to express disdain,
Held themselves awkwardly taut and distant. No love shown here.

The parents possibly grandparents seemed to say,
"We are fragile, uncomfortable, and scared of life."
Their hearts seemed to lack warmth, their tongues chimed a sad mimicry.
They really could not love a young mother and child.

Oh Rosebud we call Chloe

Oh Rosebud sweet for sure
You are prescious in our care.
Your mother is not mean my dear
Her job just never ends you see.
She protects the sweetness
Of your breath
The eyes that make you smile
The legs that make you dance.
Her care never ceases
It just grows older
As do you. You see?
As you bloom, she fades.
And she does it all - for you.
So tho you doth complain m'dear
Your mother you need not fear.
She will keep you safe until
One day you just might
Need to care for her!

Alex Step Outside

When the sky turns cloudy
And folks are irritating
Step outside, dear Alex
And look again at the world.

When you look at me
Who do you see?
Sometimes I step outside, too
And you might just not see - me.

The "me" you see may look gloomy
My face may look - oh, so sad
But, look again, dear
I stepped right outside that self!

It is quite a trick
But easy as can be
You simply shed your skin
And leave it be awhile.

Look at me standing here
As I feel upset at something.
Now, look again, I've left
My gloomy self behind.

And all it took was ....
To SMILE.

Zeus with Emily

One large, one small
One old, one young
These two grand dogs of mine.
One is wiry and gray black silver
The other a rosy shade of tan
And white and silken.
Missing all those who went
Before these grand pets.
Missing my own beloved
Furry loved ones.
Two nephew dogs I have
As well. So sleek their coats.
One grey one black
Both funny and frisky boys.
Now, Zeus who yips
And Emily who growls
As if she doth protest
Tho we know she is
A Sweetie Pie,
Are my comic relief.
They are my gentle
Warm, pettable porters
Of full acceptance.
I can enter a worn out
Depleted old woman
Ready for the manure
Pile I'm certain awaits me,
And one moment with these
Two funny loving pooches
Fills me with such hope
That I will make it
Through one more day.

would I were a camel

Feels as if
I've been to
- - - -
and back again.
I feel I have
more miles
on my heart
than all the cars
I have owned
combined.

Why I went
to all those
sad, dryed up
places, who knows?
Not me, for sure.

When a human
Being gets dumped
And tries to be
reclaimed, as it were,
Only to be rejected
over and over, and over again
it 's like
visiting dry holes,
old spent wells
of former sustenance.

One human being
all alone
could expire
from such a drought
as I sometimes
find myself in.
would I were a camel
or dromedary,
not needing a drink.

Sweet Billy Brother

He annoyed me with his jokes

I avoided him and his ways

And, then one day I listened

To what he actually had to say.

He was, much to my amazement,

A sweet fellow who loved his mother,

Loved his wife, loved his brothers.

He was not quick to anger

But very quick to laugh

To eat, to talk, to share,

He got me through some sad

Moments of despair when his mother

My cute, little mother-in-law, died

And I was guilt-ridden for not

Having saved her from abuse

By her caregivers.

Then it was a matter of saving

Him and my husband from

Those same evildoers,

One of whom abused them

When they were little boys.

He showed how sweet and

Peaceable he was, Billy did.

He forgave so easily, after he was used

So badly, so often, still he forgave,

Now he is gone, too soon

Since he was younger than I

Afterall, though much sicker.

He leaves behind a wife who

Will suffer losing him.

He leaves behind a brother

A sister-in-law and a stepsister

All three evil, all three hurt him

Each in a different way. Then,

As if they had a right, they

Ejected him from the family,

Which cut him like a knife wound.

Today he stopped bleeding

And lay asleep in peace

No longer suffering, just asleep.

He leaves my husband, his brother,

And he leaves me, his newly

Adopted sister behind as well.

We will always remember Billy

A sweet fellow with a good heart.

Weather

When I was a girl of ten or so
A wise lady told me to appreciate
Seasons and the weather each brought.
She was a professional teacher of
Immatures, such as I was then but am not now.
She knew how and taught me,
Those wise notions of hers.
To this day I remember what she taught me
To this day I miss four seasons.
To this day I miss small town life
To this day sameness bores me.

Would I have learned to be a little
More like her, a teacher
To my own immatures.
Grace, I have never forgotten you.

Anita

You were a cute little Betty Boop

And loyal to your children, all of them

Regardless of their worth, and,

Regardless of their loyalty to you.

I always felt that you and I were

Alike as mothers, in one way,

We loved our children always

No matter what - no changing our minds

Even when we cried over what they did

Even though we cried when they no longer

Loved us - their own mothers.

You were so kind to me, so sweet and kind.

I felt as if you were the best mother-in-law

Ever a daughter-in-law could have.

And you were.

Would I have caught on sooner to your plight!

We thought that your second son was watching

And honoring you and we were so wrong.

By the time I realized your danger, it was too late.

Sorry is not enough, I know this now.

Would have, could have, wanted to's

Are not enough to make things right in any

Small way. So I keep on trying, seeking some

Justice for Anita, telling anyone who listens,

About you, dear cute little Betty Boop.

Ugly Heart

I had a heart cath done last month.
I was scared, but it was not a big deal.
I thought someone told me in the surgery
That I had - a nice little heart.
I know my heart is old, sad, chipped, torn up, raggedy.

I eat too much, I exercise too little.
I cry over losing 2 lovely daughters
And I worry that I will lose a 3rd.
I don't feel that I deserved to lose any daughter.
I always tried to be a good mother tho I was too young.

I feel anger toward too many people
The ones who harmed my cute, little
Mother-in-law, she who was good to me and them.
And I am disappointed that the people paid to protect
Did not hear me and bring the abusers to justice.

So many painful wrongs for me to live with, think about,
They do not go away, they feel like mistakes,
Mistakes, mistakes, that I must correct somehow.
But I have not figured out how. How? How? How?
I fear I will die knowing that I failed to make things right.

I cannot let go of my daughters, my mother-in-law,
My mother who died too young, the boy I once gave
My heart to. And he took my heart, and, yet, he did not
Love me back, What is that? What is it called?
If someone takes your love like that is he a thief?

My heart seems to break at some moments,
And it is not my cholesterol, soft plaque and all.
What pains my heart is the sadness, the misery, the
Longing for those I have loved so much.
Anita, you would understand, Mumma, you could not,
Jennifer, you refuse, Amanda, you are silent.

First Day of Whatever This Is

Oh, what am I about to do
I know better than opening up to
Criticism, complaints, abuse.

I am too old to make many mistakes
It takes so long to try to correct
Whatever I have done wrong.

I am about to share my life

my heart

my pain.