Poetry – Valerie's Voice

Busy Beavers

We were enjoying a hike in our neighboring town of Faribault, on one of the last warm days of fall. The section of trail we were walking along had trees on one side and the Straight River on the other. I was looking toward the river when I noticed what looked like beaver shavings on the base of a very large tree.

Evidence of beavers gnawing on this huge tree.

We stepped off the trail to check it out, and sure enough there was evidence of a beaver, or beavers, gnawing its way around this massive tree. But we wondered, can a beaver really gnaw its way through this huge tree?

This is a photo of Gary hugging the tree. He cannot reach his arms around this large tree the beavers are working on.

Gary couldn’t even put his arms around the tree it was so wide. Was this the work of one busy beaver, or several beavers?

I do believe if one were so inspired, you could dress for the weather, park yourself at the near-by picnic table, sit quietly, and wait for the beaver to come back to work on this massive endeavor, because it will take some time for any beaver, or a colony of beavers, to fell this tree.

This size tree seems to be where we usually see beaver markings…

Lots of beaver activity along the Straight River.

Farther along the trail we saw more sightings of beaver activity…only the trees were more reasonably sized. Even so, some nice trees were being leveled. We couldn’t see the dam the beavers must be working on.

This tree is felled but has not been taken away yet…

The animal kingdom is amazing…beavers born with big teeth and flat tails to construct their homes…skunks spraying nasty, unpleasant scent to protect themselves…hummingbirds, the smallest bird, having energy to migrate twice a year spanning up to thousands of miles to stay warm…

An artistic design left behind by beavers…a shapely stump.

“All creatures great and small, the Lord God made them all.”*

All unique. All wonderful. All Amazing.

*From Cecil Frances Alexander’s poem: All Things Bright and Beautiful (1818)

A Poem

On our recent trip up north, with our sons and their families, I thought about this poem I wrote back in 1998, in the midst of raising children, working, and extended family activities. It rings true today, but maybe I’d add some grandchildren to the scene. 😉

On the sea in Norway, but any body of water will do.

There's No Place I'd Rather Be

There’s no place I would rather be
Than by the shore or on the sea.

For at this place my heart’s alive
My body’s at rest, my soul’s revived.

There’s time to reflect, to think, to pray
And time to watch nature at play.

These retreats are made o-so-fair
As different sounds fill the air.

Rushing water or gentle waves
Is what my body and soul craves.

The songbird always sings its song
And gulls or loons may join along.

Creatures dare to come close you see
When I’m quietly sitting with just me.

Through it all my Creator speaks
And I’d like to be there every week.

My world slows down and I rejoice
To be on shore or sea is my choice.

A photo of me(2016) kayaking in Lake Superior harbor watching the Tall Ships parade.

Good Friday

Lent is soon over: it’s Good Friday, but Easter Sunday is coming! Here are three haikus I wrote for this year’s Lenten journey.

Fast from complaining,
And alter your mindset to
Feast on gratitude.

Practice a new way.
Fast from being critical,
Feast on uplifting.

Lent can be a time
to exercise letting go
and form new habits.

I trust these reminders will carry on.

Spring Cleaning

Time for spring cleaning
It is a lot of hard work,
But satisfying.

When it’s done, I’m glad.
But, there is always more to do.
For now, it’s enough.

As spring emerges~
It’s time for new adventures.
Wonder what they’ll be?

As we were spring cleaning last week, I brought down a clown that sits on a high shelf, to dust it off. As I was dusting it, I was transported down memory lane.

This clown was from my mom’s collection. She had quite a fun collection. I wish I had taken a photo of all the different clowns she had at one time. Whenever I see a clown figurine, I think of her. She died in 2009.

I kept one of her clowns. It’s a wonderful clown, with masks that can be put on and off its face. Not only is the clown a nice remembrance of my mother, but also, it evokes fond memories from when we would go visit her when my boys were little. They would always ask grandma if they could change out the masks on that clown. She would say “yes”, and they boys would carefully put on a new mask.

After cleaning up the clown, we put it back up on the shelf, where it stands tall (ready to perform for us I think) until the next time.

Another Christmas Poem

This is my writing partner’s Christmas poem for your enjoyment.

Blessings
by Sheri Ginter Eichhorn

As we gentle into winter and the holidays draw near,
my heart turns toward my loved ones, the good people I hold dear.

It is a time I cherish. During Christmas time I find
that people make more effort to remember to be kind.

We all seem to be nicer, and to be more thoughtful, too.
It brings out all the best in us and shows in what we do.

It’s a time when we remember the blessings that we share,
and it’s a time to show others just how much we care.

It seems to me that, in the end, the blessings we receive
that matter most of all to us are our loved ones, I believe.

And, though life’s not always easy, when a tough challenge appears,
It’s the hands of all those loved ones that I hold to quench my fears.

I am blessed far beyond measure with the riches of the heart.
and it matters so for me to say that you, dear, are a part

Of my lovely cache of treasures—of the people I hold dear—
and that is why I wish you love today and through the year.

My wish for you is every good that life can offer you.
A life of love and happiness and lots of laughter, too.

May all the blessings Christmas brings be yours at the holidays.
But also, may the year bless you in endless, lovely ways.

An Assignment

Write a Christmas poem.

Oh, Christmas Tree, by Valerie Bollinger

Remembering an extra special homecoming:

Bringing up the Christmas boxes from the basement.
Choosing carefully the holiday adornments.
Taking time to decorate each room.
Decorating with the grandchildren in mind.
Wanting to create for them the wonder of Christmas.

Selecting the biggest and the best Christmas tree,
Cutting it down to size to fit in the pine-sided room, 
Admiring the spruce’s perfect imperfection.
Smelling its wonderful scent,
Stringing on the lights,
Leaving off the ornaments...for now, 
Creating enchantment within our home.
Lingering in the precious moments,
Recalling cherished memories of Christmas’ past.

Waiting with excitement at the airport,
Anticipating their arrival from the international terminal.
Spotting their figures linked together...my heart skipping a beat. 
Rejoicing and giving thanks.

Pulling into the driveway at home...
Entering the house ahead of the others to turn on the tree lights...
Anticipating the joy of the little ones seeing the lighted Christmas tree. 

Coming to a standstill.
Looking in awe.
Their happy faces lighting up.
It was priceless.

A Poem: Mama Bear

This is a fun poem I wrote for an assignment to write a personal poem with metaphorical meaning, and an animal as the central figure. Poetry stretches me. It is not my favorite writing style, but it is good to be challenged.

 
Mama Bear

Mama Bear is a nickname for my grandmother status.
It is fitting since I have always been the protective sort.
Don’t get between me and my offspring, and their offspring - my grandchildren,
For then I will get aggressive and grumpy.
I may look cute and cuddly but I can take a stand
And when I stand, I am very tall and noisy.
I do like honey and berries,
And I love rambling through the forest and mountains and by rivers. 
I have learned to take life more slowly
But watch out, I still have what it takes to roar!

Our Snow Angels

Snow Angels
All bundled up
Almost unrecognizable
Skipping down the snowy sidewalk
Stopping to take it all in
Noticing squirrels
And planes, and dogs
Squealing with delight
Then falling into the snow
Beautiful snow angels
Disguised as Grandchildren

01/2019 vb

Snow angels sliding down a snow mound without sleds.

Moon Cathedral

Full moonrise over Lake Superior, September 2019.

A Moon Cathedral
by Valerie Bollinger
 
Looking out over the expansive dark lake, at night
Gazing at the full moon rising
Reflecting a sparkling path on the water
Streaming it’s light directly towards shore
Guiding my eyes upward
Resembling a cathedral between the trees.
Behold, A moon cathedral,
God-made, inviting praise for His beautiful creation.

One Little Box

I was deep cleaning our bedroom closet recently and dusted off “a special box” on the top shelf. I wrote a poem about this box eight years ago. A few details have changed since then…the old Gateway Computer box has been placed inside a slightly larger fabric box for additional room, because now this fabric box contains 41 years of calendars and recorded history. I have shared this poem before, but I’ll share it again.

The original Gateway computer box, inside a larger fabric box.

One Little Box

In the bedroom closet upstairs, tucked away on the top shelf, is a box.

It’s an old Gateway computer box with the Holstein cow pattern, and it’s only about 14” X 18” and 6” deep.

It doesn’t take up much space, this one little box, but, if you open it up, out pops one great, big surprise! Thirty-three years of calendars, thirty-three years of life, thirty-three years of recorded history from one small family. It contains years of appointments, church activities, school and sports activities, vacation schedules, birthdays, anniversaries, deaths, dinners, all kinds of celebrations….

It reminds me of a Jack-In-The-Box. Each year it springs open, I add another calendar, force close the lid as it bursts with memories, and I put it away for safe keeping.

This one little box holds one big treasure.

And it’s amazing how little space this box takes, upstairs, tucked away on the top shelf of the bedroom closet.