Monday, November 8, 2010

Family Ties VII: Well Used

Family Ties VII: Well Used


KathyE said...

I just love, love, love these pieces. You have provided the inspiration for me to take out those tattered family heirlooms. Keep 'em coming!

Jackie said...

though one could see she never cried,
one could see she always tried,

always one to plant the seed,
she gave her love to all those in need,

when finally she was laid to rest,
we all knew she had done her best.

Anonymous said...

Today's Haiku:
Red, white and buttoned
Simply worn...and tattered,too
Making memories

Cassie Shella said...

Hi Lyric - this is beautiful. Here is a Haiku for you, it's called Home:Holy, Safe, and Warm
Where every heart is loved
Completely Sacred

Hope you like it, a have a Blessed week:)

Dreamie said...

Berries by Christine Jean

When I'm a very old woman
and I've taken to my bed
one day a doctor will come to see you
looking grim, he'll shake his head
it's then you must feed me berries
when I'm old and I've taken to my bed

Crush the berry between your fingers
drip the juice into my mouth
let it stain my lips and run down my chin
like it did when I was a youth
I'll touch your face and call you grandma
as the juice drips into my mouth

They'll take me back to days long gone
their sweet smell will bring the rain
the color will remind me of the summer sun
but it's the taste, my darling daughter, that will serve to relieve my pain
in my mind I'll return to the girl I once was
and pick berries with grandma again

Eli at Four by Christine Jean

Little boy hand takes hold of mine
He pulls me to my feet
“come on papa, take me for a walk.
Let’s look for something neat”

My joints are stiff, My feet so sore
My back is giving me pain
But walk we must and walk we will
Who knows if this chance will come again?

Down the street n’ round the corner we go
Searching along the way
We stop to watch a colony of ants
To the boy their work looks like play

Soon pockets are filled with pinecones
Colored string is added too
A sparrow feather, a smooth red stone
A fragile shell of robin’s egg blue

Little hands cradle each treasure
Small things make him happy you see
But what the boy does not realize
He is the treasure to me

Wen Redmond said...

Beautiful use of family heirlooms.

Time marches determinedly on.
We grow older and wiser,
watching as the seasons change-
changing us, moving us
ever forward, to become real.
To become ourselves.

Jane LaFazio said...

oh lyric, I adore these pieces. every single one of them. they are so lovely, so powerful, so touching...they make me cry. really. I so wish I could be there to see them all in person. really fabulous work, dear Lyric.