Sunday, July 23, 2006

Tweed
Drizzling damp a little grey
shaggy blades misty green
patchy gooey brown bespeckles
the day dawns still and silent
dreary outdoors remains apart


warm fluorescent, soft white too
illuminate the inside
where living breaths

beating souls share trials, triumphs
broken hearts

out there time marked by
golden rays warm and drizzly gray
take turns counting days, and years

inside children laugh and grow
tears of joy and sorrow flow
mother's hand lets slowly go
her heart holds fast to scraps
crinkled scribbles, wilted weeds,
and memories of green and tweed

Saturday, July 22, 2006

I thought maybe I should write a bit about myself. It would seem that is what bloggers do. Though, I have not read more than a few, blogs, a few blogs; my son's, a few friends, and the little snippets I posted a while back.

Since I could read and write I have memories of writing. Recording little rhymes, childish scribbles, rambling observations, mournful regrets, and pityful poor-me's in more than a few now yellowed and battered spirals, journals, and stapled together scraps. Scraps, little snippets of here and there ponderings and muddled musings. Now I am tired, and can muddle no more.
First time for everything. Tonight I am beginning a new blog. I did write a while back and enjoyed putting some of my written thoughts on virtual paper. I sat down to write tonight I had a zillion witty, interesting, thought provoking idioms bouncing unrestrained within my cranial gray matter. Unfortunately, those frisky musing seemed to have escaped the capture of my feeble fingers and my dozing consciousness. So, I guess for tonight this brief introduction will have to suffice.