.
.
Wicked is, as wicked does.
Giggles verses cackles
give the witches wannbe’s away.
Wicked is as wicked does.
=================
.
.
Witchipoo’s the name,
Mother was my game.
I had”the look,”
that I’d think would scare
the bejeebees out
of my kids, grand kids.
Sigh. It didn’t work.
Witchipoo’s the name
long ago lover thought
it be cute.
I only look scary to me,
I guess !
================
.
.
Witchipoo’s the name,
fun is my game.
Screech ‘n holler
with all my might
tryin’ to cause a fright.
Witchipoo’s the name.
=================
.
.
Happy Halloween ! Boooo to YOU, Too !
.
.
.
“You remember too much,
my mother said to me recently.
Why hold onto all that?’
And I said,
‘where can I put it down?”
Anne Carson
.
Thoughts swirl
memories flow
looking for a place
to rest.
.
Thoughts swirl
memories flow
Mom said,
“You just create clutter
with all your stuff.”
Stuff being artwork
journals and books.
.
Thoughts beg to
be written,
a memoir for those
who don’t really know
me, but think they do.
.
Thoughts spoken
are chatter of an old
woman.
Thoughts written,
years from now,
may be a clue to
their present.
.
Thoughts creep in,Thoughts spoken
are chatter of an old
woman.
never minding
time of day,place,
what is happening.
Shower thoughts
hardest to record.
.
Thoughts spoken
are chatter of an old
woman.
Well, then, it’s okay.
The words may bring
relief to someone,
a laugh or clue
to another generation.
.
Thoughts swirl,
memories flow,
thoughts beg to
be written.
Thoughts spoken
are chatter of an old
woman.
Thoughts spoken
are chatter of an old
woman.
Thoughts spoken
are chatter of an old
woman.
Thoughts swirl
memories flow,
thoughts beg to
be written.
.
.
.
.
.
Witchipoo, my name
.
Halloween my fun and games
.
Knock, knock: Trick or treat
.
.

.
Dreams float over bed
dream catcher assures good dreams
stay secure, good luck
.
Dream catcher child made
speaks to spirits during night
reassuring sleep
.
Spirits live secure
nights weaving dream catcher home
sound sleep assured all
.
.
Apology. None.
She stops speaking, hangs up phone.
Sad state of affairs
.
Life’s mission: kindness
What if others disagree,
they take a stand ? Sigh.
.
Forgiveness. For whom?
Standing up for what is right ?
Forgiveness: Given.
.
I apologize to MoM
for …. what…standing up calmly
pleading daughter’s case ?
.
Forgiveness. For Whom ?
Both stood on own principles
Silence not answered.
.
Apology. None.
She not speak because I’m right
Sad state of affairs
.
.

My cat Bianca thought she knew how to open the front door … I was sitting across the room, camera at my side, took the photo, then laughed Her next “trick”, I couldn’t capture was trying to get into the blue shopping bag on the door knob ☺
.
warm the cockles of the soul
live longer with pets
.
Laughter helps long life
No laughter, short life seems long
Pets entertain, cheer
.
Like children, pets know
when spirits down, need lifting
watch, they entertain
.
.
.
I wish I had known:
life is a song – sing it.
I didn’t learn any lyrics.
Life’s lyrics, songs seemed
frivolous.
Should have paid attention
to the birds.
.
I wish I had known,
Life is a game – play it.
My life is too serious.
I wondered about those
who viewed life as a game…
and wished I could be different.
.
Life is a challenge – meet it.
Life’s challenges, were met
with vigor.
This is one game of life I know
deep down to the core.
.
Life is a dream – realize it.
My dreams were the dreams
of others for so long.
I became someone I didn’t know.
.
Life is a sacrifice – offer it.
Lesson learned,
better late than never.
Sacrifice happened,
but I didn’t recognize it
for so long.
.
Life is love – enjoy it.
I thought life was to be hard,
stern, not happy and
especially not to be enjoyed.
The hardest lesson to learn:
To enjoy life,
feel the love,
give love.
==================
.
controversial Indian Guru Sai Baba
Life is a song – sing it. Life is a game –
play it. Life is a challenge – meet it.
Life is a dream – realize it.
Life is a sacrifice – offer it.
Life is love – enjoy it.
.
.
.
Sunrise, sunsets, too
.
colors amaze hardest heart
.
Mother Earth’s palette
.
.
.
A day like many,
small town drugstore,
she behind the lunch counter,
he just back from
the Unpopular War,
spots her,
saunters over to the counter,
sits down..
It’s been a while,
but she remembers
his coffee order,
brings it to him,
with a small creamer
of half and half.
Asks “sugar ?”
.
He replies,
as in days long
passed:
“Just stir it with
your finger,
it will be sweet enough”.
.
As she tells the story,
they’ve been married
more than fifty years.
He doesn’t remember
details of those years,
he’s fighting a different
battle now.
As his wife tells the story,
he smiles, laughs,
says:
“I always got you
with that line.
You’ve always been
the sweetest girl
I’ve ever known.”
.
.
.
.