Poems – Valerie's Voice

Happy Spring Flowers

Spring flowers are a wonderful sight to see…. their vibrant, happy faces pop out through the winter’s leftover debris of dead grass, twigs and dirt, and really stand out. Tulips, daffodils, hyacinths, crocuses, scilla are all perky little reminders that spring is in the air.

Here’s a fun spring poem:

Daffydowndilly

"She wore her yellow sun-bonnet,
She wore her greenest gown;
She turned to the south wind
And curtsied up and down.
She turned to the sunlight
And shook her yellow head,
And whispered to her neighbour:
"Winter is dead." 

        - A.A. Milne from her book When We Were Very Young (1924)*

Often this time of year l buy some tulips to put in a vase to bring a little spring indoors. For several days the tulips stand perky and bright, and then the blooms open wider and their stems start to arch and bend and they take on a wild look.

I love it when that happens. It reminds me of the beautiful messiness of life.

Scilla siberica can be invasive. There is a lawn in Northfield covered in purple scilla…
It does look beautiful this time of year. 04/06/26

Spring is officially here in Minnesota, yet it usually takes longer to arrive than what the calendar says. But I’m ready for the colors of spring…tulips, daffodils, hyacinths, crocuses, scilla, forsythia…all signs of hope and rebirth.

* If you are in the U.S., you can generally post poems from A.A. Milne’s early collections—specifically When We Were Very Young (1924) and Now We Are Six (1927)—without infringement.

The Donkey

With Spring officially here the weather has been a mix of cold and windy, or warm and sunny – which is what I experienced when I visited the farm this week. It was a beautiful day to enjoy the country side, to help feed the animals, to groom Abigail the miniature horse, and groom the two donkeys, Zacchaeus and Barnabas.

I had a deeper appreciation for the two donkeys this Holy Week as I thought about the poem by Mary Oliver, “The Poet thinks About the Donkey.”

Barnabas and Zacchaeus, the two resident donkeys.

This poem was read at our church on Palm Sunday. It focuses on the donkey Jesus rode into Jerusalem – how the donkey waited, not knowing what for, then let himself be led and mounted. He was obedient as he placed one hoof in front of the other, and stepped into the crowd.

An excerpt:

But the donkey, tied to a tree as usual, waited.
Then he let himself be led away.
Then he let the stranger mount.

Never had he seen such crowds!
And I wonder if he at all imagined what was to happen.
Still, he was what he had always been: small, dark, obedient.

Here is a link to the entire poem: “The Poet Thinks About the Donkey“. I enjoyed the poet’s interesting perspective.

I had to include this photo of the newest additions to the farm… Jonathan and David.
I call them, large dryer balls.

As I was leaving the farm, I spotted my first crocus in bloom this season. Its simple elegance stood out against the backdrop of dried grass and twigs.

A beautiful spring sighting. Photo Credit: S. Holm

Have a blessed Holy Week.

Happy Mother’s Day

Thinking about two mothers today; my own mom and her best friend. Here’s a fun little poem I wrote about the two of them in 2013.

Two Friends

Back in the 50’s
When life was pretty good
In NE Mpls up sprang
A special neighborhood.

Children gathered daily
Going outside to play
Fathers off to work
Moms at home to stay.

Friendships were forming
…Everyone was new…
Some lasting fifty years or more
Wow – who knew???

Two special families
Lived across the street
Two special women
Destined to meet.

Raising their children
Having driveway coffee breaks
Always checking on each other
Vacationing to many lakes.

Their daughters grew up
Becoming lasting friends
Sharing McKinley Street stories
No more playing pretend.

Marriages, then grandkids
Time was marching on
But playing Bridge and having lunch
Kept their connection strong.

Four years ago God took the first
And now He’s taken the other
But memories will linger on
Loving memories of our mothers.

Happy Mother’s Day!

December Light

We woke up to six inches of snow Thursday morning. It’s been a while since that has happened. Last winter Minnesota was practically snowless. The fresh, white snow was pretty lying over the harvested cornfield outside the windows of our new sunroom.

Photo taken 12/20/24. The sun has come out!

It was cloudy when the full moon rose on December 15^th, but I can imagine the scene; moonlight on the field of freshly fallen snow. It reminded me of a poem I read recently:

December Moon

Before going to bed,
after a fall of snow,
I look out on the field shining
there in the moonlight.
So calm,
untouched and white.
Snow silence
fills my head after I leave 
the window.

Hours later, near dawn, when I look down again,
the whole landscape has changed.
The perfect surface gone, criss-crossed and written on
where the wild creatures ranged
while the moon rose and shone.

How much can come,
how much can go when
the December moon is bright.
What worlds of play
we’ll never know
sleeping away
the cold, white night
after a fall of snow.

~Author unknown

(This poems seems to be a rework of May Sarton’s December Moon poem: here is a link to May’s original poem. I cannot find any information on who wrote the words above.)

I like the image of animals leaving their tracks in the snow, as evidence of their nightly esapades. And, I’ve always be attracted to the moon and its tales and lores.

Light breaking through the clouds. 12/20/24

A lot is happening during this season of change…the full moon, the fresh snow, the winter solstice (December 21), which marks the longest night of the year. After Christmas with its many variations of light, after the New Year’s celebrations, after we settle into the new year, the days start getting longer in our corner of the world, and we will be gifted with more light, and that is very good.

Along the Sea

We were in Florida last week, on the gulf side, close to Clearwater Beach. It was beautiful. Sunny… every day, temperatures in the 80’s…every day.

We spent time near the water, and submerged ourselves in the water once. It felt wonderful. We walked along beaches and enjoyed the fine, white, sugar sand, and seeing the awesome shades of turquoise water, beautiful blue skies, shore birds, sea shells, sail boats. We “soaked” it all in…sun, waves, sea air, warm temps.

We didn’t know the name of these interesting shorebirds.

Usually when I am on the water’s edge I look for sea shells…(or rocks if I’m on Lake Superior’s rocky shore). I can’t help myself. As I walked along looking for shells I thought about a poem I wrote several years ago. I looked it up after we returned home and am sharing it below.

Along the Sea (2010)

Here I go again...
Walking along the beach,
Tides go out, tides come in,
I’m open to what it’ll teach.

Water rolling over the toes,
Sun sparkling across the sea,
The gentle sound of waves,
All soothes the core of me.

I walk along and sing psalms
As the pulsing waves repeat,
I feel a sense of calm
As my eyes draw to my feet.

I reach down for a token
From the bounty of the sea.
And check to see if it’s broken,
If so, I toss it back quickly.

I can’t resist, so I pick up more
Searching for one without mars,
Noting what likeness to people they bore,
Broken, wounded, with scars.

So, I start being less selective
And find new beauty in these...
My mind gently corrected
As I choose shells along the sea.

Cardinals

Below is a poem and a haiku I wrote for an assignment in my writing group. The cardinal is my favorite visitor to our yard, but I love to see them anywhere!

Take Flight 
 
The cardinal flies past the window and I know it’s melodious sound. 
For me, it is a love song, letting me know I am loved. 
His bright red color is like red lips kissing, touching the heart
And every time I see it I adore it more.
Through him God says, I see you, I know who you are and you are loved.
It reminds me what is important…family, faith, friends.
The fly-by is like a messenger delivering many thoughts saying
I am free, you can be free, take flight, be the adventurous person you are.
But then I sit back, a little anxious that I am being silly...
And writing this poem is like forbidden fruit and not worth anything.

Another assignment was a writing exercise and I ended up with three words: travel, fly and cardinal. I needed to use those three words to write a haiku.

Traveling by wings
A cardinal can bring much joy-
A bright red fly-by.

I Would Never…

Last week I posted a blog entitled The Color I Remember, an essay I wrote for an assignment with my writing companion. Today I am posting a poem she recently wrote for a different assignment entitled, I Would Never…

With her permission I have posted it below. Enjoy.

I Would Never …
By Sharon Ginter Eichhorn

Never is a powerful word.
Very finite, very fixed.
And so often that word,
well-intended and sincere, 
does not live up to the intensity,
the determined meaning of the word.
Rather, we in fact would, and often do,
the very things we said we would not.
People are, in general, well-intentioned,
good-hearted, rightly motivated.
But, in all of us is a weakness, 
a faltering humanness
that belies our good intentions.
Never is a powerful word. 
We must never use it lightly,
Because it is then that we might tumble,
we might prove the weakness of our humanity.
Instead, live your life always hoping…
hoping to be the person you want to be. 
Never asks too much, I think.
Never denies failings. 
Never damns humanness. 
Instead try, always, to hope, 
because hope never fails.

Summertime

Enjoy the Summer Solstice… today… June 21, 2019.

“On this day the length of time with sunlight is the longest.”*

Here are some excerpts from, A Summer Blessing, from the book entitled The Circle of Life.*

Blessed are you, summer,
season of long days and short nights,
you pour forth light from your golden orb,
energizing the earth and calling forth growth.
 
Blessed are you, summer,
with your generous gift of heat.
Your warm breath animates creation,
encouraging all growing things to stretch towards the sun.
 
Blessed are you, summer,
you call us into playfulness,
encouraging us to pause from work.
You renew our spirits.
 
Blessed are you, sacrament of summer, 
natures’ green season, sweet echo of spring.
You speak to us in living color as you renew the earth 
with symbols of life for our bodies and souls.
 
Blessed are you, summer,
with your firefly evenings
you minister to the child in us.
You feed our hunger for beauty.

* The Circle of Life by Joyce Rupp & Macrina Wiederkehr

Ruby Red

Today was my mother’s birthday. She would have been 96 years old. She died 10 years ago, in March 2009.

Ruby.
I’m not sure the date of this photo, but I like it.
I noticed she has a flower in her hair.

I wrote this note to her for her birthday in 1997.

Dear Mom,

You are a very special person and you are my mother. Thank you for the gift of life. My life has been blessed in many ways and you have stood up for me many times along the way. I know you have always wanted what was best for me. It’s nice to have come from a stable home.

You have been through many hard times, losing your mom at a young age, losing a baby and then losing your husband at age 50. I’m sure you have suffered more than we know. You have become very strong through it all and have taught me to be strong.

You have always been surrounded by many friends and that’s a blessing. Thanks for modeling the importance of friendships.

I was proud of the house on McKinley Street. It was special knowing dad built it. You always kept it looking beautiful, as you did your townhouse and your apartment in the retirement center. You are great at keeping your house in order. I know I picked up your organizational skills. You are also a good cook. I don’t think I picked up that skill. I wish I could make a roast like you do.

I have pleasant memories of our driving and camping vacations and the great times up at the trailer on Farm Island Lake. Thank you for those opportunities to enjoy God’s creation.

I love God’s ideas of families and always enjoyed the Christmas Eve and Easter celebrations with the extended family. I am glad to have shared them with my cousins and grandparents. Thank you for participating in those get -togethers.

You’ve been a ***grand***grandmother. Thanks for loving and caring for our children and being so very supportive of them.

Happy Birthday Mom. I love you.

Ruby Red

I wrote this poem after she died in March 2009.

Red was her color
Ruby was her name
Never much recognition
Never much fame

But she was a faithful mother,
A grandmother, a friend
Loved and cared by many
Generous to the end.

She surrounded herself with beauty
Both natural and man made
She had a green thumb for growing,
An eye for things that stayed.

From the house on McKinley
To the apartment at Meadowbrook
She kept her place beautiful
It was always fun to look.

Her fun sense of adventure
Took her on many fine trips
And hours of playing bridge
Kept her mind sharp and crisp.

Being with family and friends
Made her most content
She had much joy in remembering
Those times were well spent.

So here’s to Ruby
Whose color was red
God blessed her life to 86
An active life she led.

Christmas Tea

The meditation below came through on my email a couple of weeks ago. It pairs well with a Christmas cup of tea. (used with permission).

You must be completely awake in the present to enjoy the tea.
Only in the awareness of the present, can your hands feel the pleasant warmth of the cup.
Only in the present, can you savor the aroma, taste the sweetness, appreciate the delicacy.
If you are ruminating about the past, or worrying about the future, you will completely miss the experience of enjoying the cup of tea.
You will look down at the cup, and the tea will be gone.
Life is like that.
If you are not fully present, you will look around and it will be gone.
You will have missed the feel, the aroma, the delicacy and beauty of life.
It will seem to be speeding past you. The past is finished.
Learn from it and let it go.
The future is not even here yet. Plan for it, but do not waste your time worrying about it.
Worrying is worthless.
When you stop ruminating about what has already happened, when you stop worrying about what might never happen, then you will be in the present moment.
Then you will begin to experience joy in life.

Thich Nhat Hanh