Thursday, September 7, 2017

Life is Not a Highway


Some might say life is a highway
but I much prefer life lived on neighborhood streets,
holding hands in hospitals, meandering back roads
or mountaintop paths with friends.
A life of honest conversation, laughter and song,
whimsy and character and possibility,
the heritage of farmhouse, harvest, horses, hard work,
corn on the cob, newly dug potatoes, hand cranked ice cream,
perseverance, weather worn, quiet afternoons by the pond,
little girl giggles, tea parties, games of tag, fireflies,
pastels, cinnamon buns, white eyelet curtains ruffling the breeze.



Photo credit: Joyce Rempel, Cranking Ice Cream at Heritage Park

Wednesday, July 12, 2017

Morning Exercise


Reach up into the cupboard
lift down the bowl and plate
place softly on the granite
so neither one will break

Pull the first drawer forward
pick up the knife and spoon
circle round the island
like a crescent moon

Bend into the pantry
through the yawning door
granola and some raisins
into the bowl to throw

Grip the fridge door handle
pull out the coconut milk
add raspberries for color
stir circles smooth as silk

Return to fridge, take out the bread
sans gluten, unrefined
slide the butter closer
sweet spun honey find

Push down the toast, rotate halfway
to even out the burn
While you wait, pivot and take
your coffee cup to urn

When all is said and done
you've stretched and put away
sit down to eat this silly poem
and send it on its way.



Picture: Personal collection

Tuesday, July 11, 2017

Dark Night


I wake in a roar
sustained drumming
a million worries
on tin pans

summer rainstorm
sans wind and wave
only deluge
deep calls to deep

in an hour long concert
then finish with
a lightning chaser
thunderous applause

God alone gathers
my tears in a bottle
uncorked tonight
to wash the earth

and now the blackbird sings



Picture: Fish Creek Park, Calgary AB, personal collection

Thursday, July 6, 2017

Good Things


Evening bike ride
in the twilight by the river
Blackbird singing
from the edge of the wood
Moon smiles back
and we thank the Giver
For every perfect gift
and all that is good.



Picture: Fish Creek Park, Bow River, Calgary, personal collection

Wednesday, May 31, 2017

Blue Plate Special


Fillet clouds
rippled fish scales
rest on a plate of blue

I drink the mulled wine
of sweet summer sun
savour this menu
of small gifts



Picture: Personal collection

Sunday, March 19, 2017

One Load at a Time



Laundry swishing and tumbling
like my thoughts
wondering
if I'll be dried up and wrinkled
or gently folded by caring hands
for good use on a future day



Picture: sourced online

Saturday, February 4, 2017

Easy vs. Hard



the easiest thing
and the laziest
is to watch
read
listen
and judge

the hardest is
to do better




Picture: depositphotos.com #39196783, standard license

Friday, January 27, 2017

Morning Glory


light and shadow
floating mountains
morning glory
on golden fall



Picture: Kananaskis Range, personal collection

Sunday, November 13, 2016

Supermoon


Smokey sky fills up the space
with orange memories from other places.
Sun abandons my earth and takes up the other's side.
I'm left to moon, speechless and starstruck.



Photo credit: Joyce Rempel, somewhere near Saskatchewan

Monday, July 4, 2016

Oh, Yes. I do.


I want to live in a world
where little things
are noticed
small victories celebrated
like what we enjoyed for supper
because I dared make something new

Where we sit on the deck
watch the clouds change
ever so slowly
jets on approach from a different trajectory
quiet sunsets

And we guess which bird
is making that call
and we don't debate
whether that's a purple
or house finch
at the feeder

I want to live in a world where
we retire graceful and grateful
to push-mower and hammock
mustang restoration and
room redecorating
as the young stressed thin
take our place at the job

Where there's always a stage
another act another song
belly laughs and road trips
Where we do things alone
because we can't miss
each other if we're never apart

Where you wink at me
in a crowd or from the 'cycle
reach for my hand
in church or over coffee
after chocolate or wine
where you hand me
a cuppa tea at day's end

I want to live in a world
with quiet sunsets
bluegrass and bonfires
your jigsaw puzzle, my poetry
lullabies and prayers
at home in your arms



Picture: Jill Hopkins

Thursday, March 10, 2016

And A Little Child Will Lead Them




I see her in a plain red dress
not quite like little orphan Annie
because her hair is straight brown
but she takes the man’s hand

who seems to be her dad
sitting at a round table in a brown suit
from Father Knows Best
but the feeling is like home

He’s reading the newspaper
like they do in the fifties
but as soon as she grabs hold
he turns, stands and follows

where she wants him to come see
and I think that’s how it goes
when I wanna show God something
and he ooohs and ahhhs

over the tiny flower I found
or pets that puppy next door 
or we laugh together
while he fixes whatever’s

broken just like that 
he comes when I reach
or sometimes when I don’t
and I remember I’m not an orphan




Photo credit: Depositphotos.com #91173348, Standard License