Now this is different.
At the bottom of this post is Poem 1. My first poem. I have wanted to try this for quite sometime. What better time to start since April is National Poetry Month.
I wrote this with the patient encouragement of L. L. Barkat (Author of Stone Crossings: Finding Grace in Hard and Hidden Places and a book of poems entitled, Inside Out.) For me, beginning was the most difficult part of writing this piece. I did not know how to just suddenly begin. She suggested focusing on a memory. That was very helpful.
I began thinking about one of the most pleasurable memories of my childhood. Each Christmas, our family would travel from Dallas to Arkansas where both sets of grandparents lived. My maternal grandparents lived just outside of the city limits of Monticello, Arkansas on a two lane highway, Arkansas Highway 4. I loved going to their house. Behind their house was a barn, a chicken coop, a garden, and plenty of tall majestic pine trees. Both the people and the setting created wonderful memories.
So this poem is a reflection of those moments.
(Now I need to tell you that I post Poem 1 with some hesitation. It sort of feels like the thought of posting my first sermon. Now that would not be pretty!)
A simple white frame house
Sweet gum trees in the front
Log trucks passing by
The place where grandparents stay
Wonderful smells in the kitchen
A white cart full of desserts
Soon it will be the Christmas meal
Snow on the ground
Warm-very warm inside
A once a year moment
Where families become one family
Stories are told
Presents are opened
Grandchildren play outside
While uncles doze by a gas heater
Soon the sun begins to set
One last meal of left-overs
Going home. Good-byes.
Most leave the white frame house
One last reminder of Christmases to come