Happy Thanksgiving

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Wishing I was with you,
No matter where you are,
I thought I heard you whisper,
Meet me among the stars.
Paper, rock, scissors,
Our little boy insists,
Hugs and kisses,
On his nightly visit.
He waits patiently,
On the tip of the moon,
His favorite moment,
You be me,
And I’ll be you.

***Written with love for my siblings. Big Brother, Middle, and Baby will all arrive late tonight at Dad’s house. The Old Cowboy will be thrilled. I know the coffee will be on and the anxious chatter will begin. It’ll be way past midnight, it usually is, when this poem arrives.
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~Photo taken by Middle somewhere in Western Kansas~

***Now a quick ditty…

‘Tis a late Thanksgiving Eve,
And found crowded around the table,
Is a family who loves to giggle,
With someone who’s trying to sleep.
As usual, it’s our Middle,
Big Brother’s asked to please wake her,
Hurry now, before she’s seen,
Or, as usual, Baby’s gonna scream.
“Someone pay attention to me!”
“Don’t you love me anymore?”
“Get Middle off the floor!”
Big Brother will scratch his head,
And roll his eyes with a grin,
Mumbling, “Not this again…”
Time for some of my Dad’s whiskey.
Our Old Cowboy lifting her to her feet,
Left responding rather gruffly,
“Middle, you haven’t even kissed me!”
All four will be left to ponder,
Why his Oldest Daughter’s missing,
“Who does she think she is by moving.”
What could their redheaded sister,
Have possibly planned,
More important than her clan?
I know, they know, for Thanksgiving,
There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,
But, this year I have to write for them,
From here in Houston, sun shining.

Happy Thanksgiving!!!! I love you guys!!

~Little do they know…I’m off in the morning to experience Houston’s live Thanksgiving Day Parade.

Where: Is You

Nowhere,
Is deafening,
Your absence,
Is too,
Why do I,
Think of you?
Everywhere,
Is haunting,
Your love,
Is too,
Why do I,
Think of you?
Somewhere,
Is comforting,
Your mind,
Is too,
Why do I,
Think of you?
Anywhere,
Is lovely,
Your presence,
Is too,
Why do I,
Think of you?
Where,
Is you,
Your heart,
Is too,
Why do I,
Think of you?

Cherish

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With eyes locked
And my heart open wide
I promise to you
All that I am, will ever be
Admitting honestly
Whatever this is
I cherish our road, completely

***Let me apologize for the cheese factor in this poem for those who may be skeptical of finding love. I know it sounds like a five and dime wedding vow to some, but it just came pouring out of me 5 minutes ago. After reflecting over the words, my heart knows best, so I will share the poem in hopes that it brings a smile. For me, the only path worth walking is towards love in any form, but most importantly the one you’re craving, always.

Grackle’s Song

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When dried leaves depart,
In submission to the changing wind,
And nothing now makes sense,
Remember we’re all given a plan.
While quiet enough to hear,
And present enough to understand,
We’ll realize sadness, too, is a gift.
Even when the hearts of Grackles,
Sit and wait for a chance to create,
Songs out of screeches and cackles,
Their tune we refuse to consummate.
Yet, we allow it to comfort us within,
Remember, same tree, same devotion,
When leaning into darkness, once again.

Tell Me About Love

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Stepping away from the fight,
Only one need, for tonight,
Tell me about love.
Remind me that it lives,
And thrives among,
Moments we’re intolerant of.

Honestly, I’m needing to hear,
Sounds that bring back familiar,
Like the moaning of a guitar,
As long fingers slide through.
Explaining where I’ve left my heart,
And why it should belong to you.

Allow my strength to weaken,
I’ll listen for that voice I know,
One encouraging me to escape,
Whispering me towards a window.
Write of a passionate world where,
Someone chooses to wear a cape.

Paint pictures of your love among,
Flowers, hearts and shadows,
Even a dragon with a red tongue.
Warm me with your skillful hands,
Explore, as only an artist does,
My freckled skin, your nightly canvas.

If We Were Having Coffee

A huge thank you to Willow for asking me to coffee today. Friday’s haiku about coffee and cookies give her the perfect opportunity to invite me to try her weekly post titled, “If We Were Having Coffee”. I’ve often found her poetry challenging my reality, as she often writes about the tough stuff life can dish out, and I thank her for it. Willow’s lovely photos over coffee express her day to day travels in a charming way, and prove how blessed she truly is to enjoy a full life, so stop by and say HI soon.

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The photo that brought us here

I’m not entirely sure how this works, but I believe I hand out coffee and cake, while you listen to me ramble on about my world a bit. You have no idea how much anxiety I have just thinking about talking about myself. We should start with conversing over my anxiety, but this isn’t a therapy session. Well, actually, isn’t coffee with friends sorta like that? I mean, don’t we normally end up offering each other advice over a cup of coffee? Only problem is that I prefer to be the one giving the advice. I pride myself on how well I deflect. Okay, I’m just digging myself a hole here, so let’s get started.

If we were having coffee: I’d have cleaned my kitchen, if this was our first visit together at my place, and I’d have probably made a brown sugar coffee cake with bing cherries. Since we’re friends you have this amazing ability to go on and on about how lovely my chickens are placed about the room, how great the coffee smells and how delicious the cake looks, which is all so stickin’ cute of you. I’ll explain that chickens and pitchers remind me of home, my parents and my great grandmother, Elsie, so I keep them here so I feel a little closer to home.

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I’ll turn sixteen shades of red, while sitting through your praises, I’ll try and thank you as quickly as possible and turn the subject to you with a comment like, ” Wait, didn’t you go to the doctor yesterday? Tell me how that went…”

If we were having coffee: I’d offer plenty of creamers, sugars and milk.You’d tell me I was tough for drinking it black and I’d tell you not really. Taking my coffee black is all I know. My grandparents drank, and still do drink, their coffee black, as does my father, so I didn’t see a world with creamer until I was in my twenties. I wanted to be part of the conversations the adults had growing up, so I asked for coffee when it was being offered and took it as it was served. Figuring I was so much like them that I would like the flavor as is, and I do. The red Folgers can was the coffee can I grew up seeing. I love seeing that can of coffee today, even if I’ve moved on to other brands.

If we were having coffee:
You’d ask me how my writing was going and I’d brush it off. Sayin’ oh pretty good. You’d have to be the friend to push me through that comment and expect more in return, if you really wanted to know. I know you’re the friend who does want to hear, so I offer a bit more. I’m having some trouble with a few characters and even more of an issue with expressing myself. Explaining also, that I have no time to focus on what I need to get done. Writing becomes a hobby during the school year and I miss it terribly. Boo hoo…

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Pretend Audrey Tear

If we were having coffee: I’d show you a few pictures that I took and would like to use, but probably won’t, as the lighting was terrible and the background unforgiving. However, it is such a cool place to visit here in Houston. This is Discovery Green and the sculptor, Jorge Marin, has an exhibit currently gracing our grounds and it truly is exceptional work. Click on his name if you’d like additional information.
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If we were having coffee:
I’d offer that Dad was doing really well with his chemo treatments. The doctors fixed his allergic reaction to the medicine beforehand, so this month’s appointment went well. He seems to be in good spirits, too. I’m so proud of my dad. My sisters went with him and kept him company for two days during his second round of medicine. I should have been there, too. Only makes sense that I would be, as I’m the oldest daughter. I have loads of guilt about that…I struggle with being so far away from them. I don’t suppose that’ll ever get any easier to deal with, so let’s change the subject.

If we were having coffee:
I’d say church was nice this morning. I served through the service, but I don’t mind. I’ll catch the video online later. Some mornings I find fellowship with other woman more important than sitting through service. Our conversations can so easily turn from pleasantries to important life discussions quickly. I’ve become more intuitive through the years and grasp onto those moments when I can. I truly do find such peace in helping women and more than anything offering my ear as a listening tool is where I’m best suited.

If we were having coffee:
I’d offer you a ride along today, as I have plans downtown. Here’s hoping today is a better picture taking day.

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Houston, Texas

If we were having coffee: I would ask you if you would like another cuppa, or another cake. If we were having Coffee Original idea from http://parttimemonster.wordpress.com/