A Mystery Novelist

A mystery novelist typing away,
She works through the night
She works day by day
Plots so twisty,
Characters so strange
To make the mystery look
Pre-arranged.

All in a Day’s Work

[a poem for my dear Mark…]

A sweet greeting card complete with a squirrel
Makes me feel like I might be a really loved girl
Then I walk through the door after work to find
He’s busy cooking dinner for the kids, so kind!

Though it rains cats and dogs, his work is not done
No, in fact, he’s really just begun
To replace the broken side mirror of my car.
I’ll travel with him forever, no matter how far.

I think Mark’s in love with a goose….

When It Rains, It Pours

What a week! Can I get an Amen?
God, you are never surprised when
These tragedies happen.

We lost so much in a few days
What my Mama says
When it rains, it pours

Families have lost blood, charred
Lives make us pray hard.
Always try to be on guard.

And I’ve got a lake in my backyard…

Newly created Lake Cramer with thin morning ice.

Ode to My Sump Pump

We’ve traveled far down many a mucky road
You’ve been there for me, dear, carrying the heavy load
Step by step, hand in hand, for better, for worse
We often sing the chorus, forget to sing the verse

Oft I’ve wondered on our journeys near and far
Sump, dear pump, how did you get that scar?
You work so hard, your ever frequent pumping
Sucking water from the sump and ever dumping

Your labor continues through the deepest night
The rains, the showers, the streaming, the sight
Of water in my basement, you know my darkest fright
I love your ever vigilant care, oh sump pump hold me tight.

I Visited a Chicago Public School Today

Thirteen Statues

I found a flock of hardy souls
So stately near a school
I read their names, admired their goals
I wondered about their rule

The presidents, the warriors
All claiming to love the masses
The heroes brave crossing barriers
The Spanish children in their classes

Benito Juarez Academy
A Chicago Public School
Return to a state of normality
Secure in your vestibule

The teens I met in classrooms so full
Polite and friendly and proud
Beautiful hope for the future, they pull
My heart from the statue crowd

Only in Nordern Minnesota

The winters last so long up north.
The sports fishermen set up their camps thirty miles out on the frozen Lake of the Woods.
They fish for the elusive walleye and talk to their faithful dogs.
They wait.
They watch TV and cook pizza in their microwaves.
They hibernate for weeks on end.
Then their hearts begin to stir.
They emerge from their camper caves.
If they see their shadows, will spring arrive in six weeks?

Mother Goose Bids a Fine Farewell to Fear

Valediction to Fear

Yes, you had your arms holding me tight for so many years,
But now it’s time to say “goodbye”.
For most of my life, you whispered in my ear that you loved me and had my best interest in mind;
Now I know you lied.

Fear, you held me close and reminded me that I could not drive long distances.
You told me that expressways are too fast and too dangerous.
What if I had an accident? What if I got a ticket? What if I got lost? What if I got a migraine headache? What if MS suddenly flared up and I got weakness in my limbs?

You warned me about job interviews and the stress of even considering employment.
With great tenderness, you consoled me,
“There’s no need for you to work. Don’t worry about it. You’re actually happier and very fulfilled staying at home with the kids every single day.”

You whispered, “If you really try hard and fail, you will be such a disappointment. You have tried and failed before, remember?”

Failure
Might cause anxiety
Might send me into a state of depression
Might make me feel insecure
Might make me feel inferior
Might upset others
Might disappoint my mother

Fear, you never cared for me. You held me close, but you hated me.

Goodbye, Fear.

Good riddance.

I am Fearless.

Please Help Yourself to One of my Cinquains

Friday night at Joe’s on Weed Street

A goose
Trying to dance
In her blue dress at Joe’s
Young country chicks steal her thunder
Too old.

Good times at Joe’s Bar on Weed Street, Chicago. Mother Goose is not in this picture…

Spring Poses a Question

How does it happen?

Out of nowhere
Out of the cold, hard ground
Out of woodchips
Out of winter
Out of sight
Out of mind
Out of death

Flowers happen.
Spring happens.
Love happens.
New life happens.

We didn’t have to do a darn thing.
Could there possibly be a spiritual connection?

Woodchips and daffies

Snowdrops.

Purply crocus.

Golden crosusi. Or crosuses.

The Legend of Adam and Erik

Mother Goose jumped at the chance to write a sea shanty today, the third day of NaPoWriMo. This prompt went straight to my fowl heart, for indeed I am the proud mother of twin sailors in the United States Navy.

‘Twas the year of Nineteen ninety
So earlie in the morning
That my twin babes were born
So earlie in the morning.

I named one Adam, the other one Erik
So earlie in the morning
So glad to see them that frosty winter morn
So earlie in the morning.

My boys went off to boot camp
So earlie in the morning
My tears they fell like rain
So earlie in the morning.

I missed them so, how could they go
So earlie in the morning
My heart was filled with pain
So earlie in the morning.

They tested well for nuke, do tell
So earlie in the morning
The training was rough, but they were tough
So earlie in the morning.

Away they drove to Virginny’s shore
So earlie in the morning
I cried and cried to see them more
So earlie in the morning.

They hoist the mast and set the sail
So earlie in the morning
They work the valves and man the rail
So earlie in the morning.

My sons are now brave sailors
So earlie in the morning
On Old Honest Abe they’ll spend their days
So earlie in the morning.