Bits and Pieces

My mother was a writer.  She wrote poetry and endless hand-written letters.  Neither Mother or I were trained to do so,  but I know she enjoyed doing it and so have I.

Written 4/1990 after watching my grandson, Christopher, not yet two years old, delight in tromping through my newly planted flower beds.

Little boy footprints
Chubby child hands
Giggles and wonder
As proudly he stands

In grandma-ma's flowers
Seems a nice place
For tiny fingers
To touch and to taste

His bright curious eyes
Eager to ask
A long list of whys
Amidst toddler tasks

Tree bark and pebbles
Um-m, taste and see
Grown-ups frown, though
And take them from me.
***

Written 12/1998

'Tis the day after Christmas, And each place I look,
I see tiny toy pieces, In each cranny and nook.

Candy foil wrappers, Chocolates with bites,
Peanuts, Pistachios, Satisfied appetites.

Every toy beeps, Lots have lights flashing,
Battery powered, No signs of stopping.

Zac's now a rock star, With guitar and mike,
Quipped Grandpa, "No, don't... Amplify this tyke!"

Jessie's new dolly, Does razbries and speaks,
Gram found the "off" switch, A-h-h...nice quiet streak.

Morgan told everyone, "It's horses I like."
A whole stable showed up, No two are alike.

Topher's been plugged in, To things electronic,
Since yesterday a.m., Double clicks, double-quick.

Family came early, 'Bout half-past six,
Then all left in stages, What a soap-opera mix.

The kids played a long time, Gram snoozed on the couch,
We sampled all goodies, 'Till our tummies cried, "Ouch"!

Everyone's happy, For two days of PJ's,
No schedule, no dress code, Just lazy holidaze.

We must go to bed now, Though all have asked, "Why"?
I don't have an answer, so...Plug in a movie--Bye, bye.
***

Written 1986, to friends who treated me to Snelgrove* ice cream and fudge topping during my struggle with RA.

Martin and Bonnie,
I've indulged and indulged, In that cold, heavenly white stuff
And the thighs and the hips... they do bulge!
But I wouldn't have traded, That sweet thought and kindness
For all the rye crisp in the world!

*Grandpa South (William T.) loved to take his family to Snelgrove's for ice cream for special celebrations and after General Conference sessions in Salt Lake City, UT.
***

Written November 1985 for a special friend (A Reader's Digest version of the much longer original)

Hugs are terrific, They say that you cared
They lift burdens a little, A brief moment shared.

Hugs are terrific, And always in style
Those who give freely, Warm pained hearts for awhile.

Hugs are terrific, They're yellow, they're Spring
They're that first taste of chocolate, The best feelings they bring.

Hugs are terrific, New energy for life
A perfect prescription, For day's ills or strife.

Hugs are terrific, Worth their weight in gold
Gentle but powerful, A thousand words told.

Hugs are terrific, With 'H' the word starts
I'm sure that must mean, They come straight from the heart.
***

In my early years of elementary school I wrote this to send to my class:

Measles
Don't ever get the measles, You'll be sorry if you do,
For I am in a measley mess, I'm telling you.
I itch and itch but I can't scratch, So this is what I say,
If you go and get the measles, They will itch in every way.
***

And so it goes, something written for many different occasions, over many years--school assignments, the yearbook dedication my senior year of high school, recognition for teachers, friends, and family, thank yous, holiday greetings, the announcement of my engagement to be married, of each child's birth, from silly to sing-song and serious.

It has taken courage to share these bits and pieces.  Perhaps I'll write something new.  It's a part of who I am.