Poetry

Hold My Hand

"Hold my hand," my parents would say And I'd reach up, trustingly; Knowing they'd watch out for things I was much too small to see. They'd hold my hand when in a crowd Or when we would cross the street, And I knew as long as I held on tight, No danger with me would… Continue reading Hold My Hand

Poetry

While It Rains

When the heavens roar with thunder And bright lightning streaks the skies; When the clouds downpour their fullness On the ground that 'neath them lies. When the water runs in tricklets Down a fogged-up windowpane, How my heart contracts in wonder As the earth soaks in the rain. How I love the rain-- I love… Continue reading While It Rains

Poetry

Who is Gloria?

The year my sister started school, I thought my heart would break. At first, I moped around all day, Then a new friend I did make. She would always come to play with me Right after the bus had run. She told me her name was Gloria And she was a lot of fun. I… Continue reading Who is Gloria?

Poetry

Waving At Daddy

I passed my dad driving down the road As I headed home one day. I waved, but he just stared ahead And never looked my way. "He's getting old; he never saw," I thought, feeling kind of sad. He usually was observant But his eyesight now was bad. When he came home, he asked me… Continue reading Waving At Daddy

Poetry

Moonlit Walk

Our house stood in deep seclusion In the middle of oaks and pines; I'd not stray into the darkness Where the moon glow could not shine. Sensing that the darkness scared me, Daddy took me by the hand. Walked with me into the darkness, Helping me to understand. Pausing by the tree we raced to… Continue reading Moonlit Walk

Poetry

Momma’s Flowers

Momma leaned to stroke her flowers And to sniff their sweet perfume. She loved every bud we brought her, Nursed them gently to full bloom. We'd have bought her anything Because she was so dear; But when asked, she begged for flowers In the Spring of every year. We loved to gather at our Momma's… Continue reading Momma’s Flowers

Poetry

Momma’s Dresser

My eyes could barely gaze upon The dresser in Mom's room; I'd tiptoe up to see her things And to smell of her perfume. Talcum powder and a jewelry box And some lipstick she never wore; I tried so hard to reach those things, Standing on the bottom drawer. Her brush and comb were silver-rimmed… Continue reading Momma’s Dresser

Poetry

Momma’s Biscuits

Momma's favorite bowl was golden Trimmed with brown, for kneading dough. Every day she sifted flour For the biscuits we loved so. She pinched off the dough, then rolled it, Patting it out with loving hands; With a sprinkle of flour upon it She dropped biscuits onto the pan. I miss seeing momma kneading, Miss… Continue reading Momma’s Biscuits