May2009
Sketch Notes
Sketch Notes
Sketch Notes is my Web site's seasonal page where I can just get creative and have fun. (No rules.) In This Issue- |
 |
"Mary's Gold--Haiku"..........................by Joy Marsh
"My Promise"......................................by Preston Goodman
"A Letter To Mother"..........................by Terry D Robertson
"A Poem Especially For You".............by Pamilla de Leon-Lewis
"Excelsior!"........................................by Lillian Cauldwell
"Mother's Day Meditation"..................by Steven Curtis Lance
"A Woman".........................................by Marcia Miller-Twiford
"Mother's Love"..................................by Gwen Madoc
"Note#3/Mother...upon being/"...........by jeanne rene watson
"The Tie That Binds"..........................by Sandi Schraut
"Flower Song"....................................by Leann Marshall
"My Promise"......................................by Preston Goodman
"A Letter To Mother"..........................by Terry D Robertson
"A Poem Especially For You".............by Pamilla de Leon-Lewis
"Excelsior!"........................................by Lillian Cauldwell
"Mother's Day Meditation"..................by Steven Curtis Lance
"A Woman".........................................by Marcia Miller-Twiford
"Mother's Love"..................................by Gwen Madoc
"Note#3/Mother...upon being/"...........by jeanne rene watson
"The Tie That Binds"..........................by Sandi Schraut
"Flower Song"....................................by Leann Marshall
What a joy it is to remember our mothers on such a special day
as Mother's Day! Like their own children, they are as varied in
looks, personalities, backgrounds and interests as are cloud
patterns in the bright May sky, or wildflowers in the field.
And a mother does deserve a special day for everything she's
done and continues to do through her vital influence on not only
her children, but all of her loved ones.
But let's not forget the other women in our lives: daughters, sisters,
aunts, nieces, cousins, grandmothers, mothers and sisters-in-law,
friends, and more. So often revered and admired for their unique
capacity to nurture while remaining sure and strong, women will
always leave an indelible mark on their world, whether or not it is
their intention to do so.
The great writers in this month's Sketch Notes certainly illustrate
the emotions thus generated as you will see in these wonderful
examples of their work that are lovingly dedicated to the women
they love.
as Mother's Day! Like their own children, they are as varied in
looks, personalities, backgrounds and interests as are cloud
patterns in the bright May sky, or wildflowers in the field.
And a mother does deserve a special day for everything she's
done and continues to do through her vital influence on not only
her children, but all of her loved ones.
But let's not forget the other women in our lives: daughters, sisters,
aunts, nieces, cousins, grandmothers, mothers and sisters-in-law,
friends, and more. So often revered and admired for their unique
capacity to nurture while remaining sure and strong, women will
always leave an indelible mark on their world, whether or not it is
their intention to do so.
The great writers in this month's Sketch Notes certainly illustrate
the emotions thus generated as you will see in these wonderful
examples of their work that are lovingly dedicated to the women
they love.
My Promise
by Preston Goodman
Married life in poverty
My Promise
I will give you the moon, I said,
And the stars will be yours, too.
She trusted I'd make good.
Her mind was naive back then,
And so was mine, and we both
Believed every word I spoke.
Four years later, I make small-talk
To distract her worried mind from
Words and debts we can't amend.
Once we ate steak and lobster;
Now sometimes we don't eat
Anything good, if anything at all.
I hear her crying in the shower.
The water's cold most of the time
But it shields her from showing me.
She could have done better than a
Dreamer with no dream in mind,
She deserves more: still, she stays.
Tonight, she gave me a card that
I opened with care. On it was
A picture of a clear night sky.
Inside, she'd written three words
That meant more than the other three.
In blue ink, it said: "I Still Believe."
by Preston Goodman
Married life in poverty
My Promise
I will give you the moon, I said,
And the stars will be yours, too.
She trusted I'd make good.
Her mind was naive back then,
And so was mine, and we both
Believed every word I spoke.
Four years later, I make small-talk
To distract her worried mind from
Words and debts we can't amend.
Once we ate steak and lobster;
Now sometimes we don't eat
Anything good, if anything at all.
I hear her crying in the shower.
The water's cold most of the time
But it shields her from showing me.
She could have done better than a
Dreamer with no dream in mind,
She deserves more: still, she stays.
Tonight, she gave me a card that
I opened with care. On it was
A picture of a clear night sky.
Inside, she'd written three words
That meant more than the other three.
In blue ink, it said: "I Still Believe."
A Letter to Mother
by Terry D. Robertson
Mother I
Passed through someone's winter
When summer was still unfolding
But what autumn left behind
I know, spring will still be holding
And it will come
With the wind blowing in my hair
Memories I once had
of present, future and past
To remind me
Remembering is always sad
And Mother, I know
They sound like empty words
Some say
She speaks without reason or rhyme
But in my muddled thoughts
I am feeling all the time
And now the seasons pass in days
Like lovers through my door
And with each forgotten season
I fear there will be no more
Mother,
You're married and you're settled
While I am still drifing on the breeze
And hoping that I will grow
Old with grace and ease
Or find someone
To blanket the chill of loneliness
And to teach me that living
Doesn't have to always be a joke
Someone to help me break this love-lock I am in
Before all my dreams go up in smoke
by Terry D. Robertson
Mother I
Passed through someone's winter
When summer was still unfolding
But what autumn left behind
I know, spring will still be holding
And it will come
With the wind blowing in my hair
Memories I once had
of present, future and past
To remind me
Remembering is always sad
And Mother, I know
They sound like empty words
Some say
She speaks without reason or rhyme
But in my muddled thoughts
I am feeling all the time
And now the seasons pass in days
Like lovers through my door
And with each forgotten season
I fear there will be no more
Mother,
You're married and you're settled
While I am still drifing on the breeze
And hoping that I will grow
Old with grace and ease
Or find someone
To blanket the chill of loneliness
And to teach me that living
Doesn't have to always be a joke
Someone to help me break this love-lock I am in
Before all my dreams go up in smoke
A Poem Especially For You
by Pamilla deLeon- Lewis
"I wrote this little ditty for my friend on her
birthday. Our friendship has lasted 33 years."
Our friendship is special;
It is one- of- a- kind.
Because our love for each other
Forms a tie that binds.
The respect we have for each other
Is what has seen us through.
Our friendship has lasted many years
And has remained true .
For you, my friend,
There aren't too many things that I won't do.
Because you, my dear,
Have been a friend
Since the day I first met you.
by Pamilla deLeon- Lewis
"I wrote this little ditty for my friend on her
birthday. Our friendship has lasted 33 years."
Our friendship is special;
It is one- of- a- kind.
Because our love for each other
Forms a tie that binds.
The respect we have for each other
Is what has seen us through.
Our friendship has lasted many years
And has remained true .
For you, my friend,
There aren't too many things that I won't do.
Because you, my dear,
Have been a friend
Since the day I first met you.
Excelsior!
by Lillian Sara Cauldwell
Excelsior!
cried the maiden
surveying
the warriors behind her.
"We ride to battle
my kinsman
and must not falter
as our weary feet
lifts our battlecries,
Excelsior!
She stood
hight
above her saddle
legs straight
with pointed
booted feet
in stirrups
of wood
and iron.
Urging
forward
her tired soldiers,
they swept
upon
the swampy field.
Shields thrust
out front
swords shrieked
as their
victim soldiers
pushed forward
from their
side of the glen.
Mighty shields
protective
coverings
over their skulls,
knives pinioned
swords crunching
unprotected skeletons,
shouting curses
amid their
fighting song,
Excelsior!
She cried,
with indrawn breath;
several times
feeling the weight
of her chain armour
bang against
her empty breast.
With
cunning intuition,
she scanned the field,
with iron clad
gloves that
shielded her eyes,
she searched the field
until sighting her prey
she rode him down
and under
her warhorse's
large footed hoofs,
he died
an ignoble death.
Her energy flagged.
A deepened
groan
rumbled
from a
dumbfounded stomach.
War screams
and full-throated yells
continued
till the echoes
rippled through
the stormy clouds
and allowed
a shortened burst
of sunlight
that deified
her face.
Tired arms
and aching back,
she rode
back to camp;
still triumphant
with her mighty
call,
Excelsior!
by Lillian Sara Cauldwell
Excelsior!
cried the maiden
surveying
the warriors behind her.
"We ride to battle
my kinsman
and must not falter
as our weary feet
lifts our battlecries,
Excelsior!
She stood
hight
above her saddle
legs straight
with pointed
booted feet
in stirrups
of wood
and iron.
Urging
forward
her tired soldiers,
they swept
upon
the swampy field.
Shields thrust
out front
swords shrieked
as their
victim soldiers
pushed forward
from their
side of the glen.
Mighty shields
protective
coverings
over their skulls,
knives pinioned
swords crunching
unprotected skeletons,
shouting curses
amid their
fighting song,
Excelsior!
She cried,
with indrawn breath;
several times
feeling the weight
of her chain armour
bang against
her empty breast.
With
cunning intuition,
she scanned the field,
with iron clad
gloves that
shielded her eyes,
she searched the field
until sighting her prey
she rode him down
and under
her warhorse's
large footed hoofs,
he died
an ignoble death.
Her energy flagged.
A deepened
groan
rumbled
from a
dumbfounded stomach.
War screams
and full-throated yells
continued
till the echoes
rippled through
the stormy clouds
and allowed
a shortened burst
of sunlight
that deified
her face.
Tired arms
and aching back,
she rode
back to camp;
still triumphant
with her mighty
call,
Excelsior!
Mother's Day Meditation
by +Steven Curtis Lance
"By love I came to be"
Mother's Day Meditation
By love I came to be
Life left its navel scar
My mother to her son
To mark the moment I
Arrived though she has gone
Compass and natal star
Her gift of life to me
A link within the chain
Though I have fallen far
So I have risen high
And so I fall to rise
Still higher than before
And so I realize
That I was meant to soar
The higher for the fall
Which lifts me after all
The wheel of destiny
Turns slowly one to one
Unending unbegun
Life left its navel scar
My mother to her son
Compass and natal star
And so I rise again
A link within the chain
By love I came to be
by +Steven Curtis Lance
"By love I came to be"
Mother's Day Meditation
By love I came to be
Life left its navel scar
My mother to her son
To mark the moment I
Arrived though she has gone
Compass and natal star
Her gift of life to me
A link within the chain
Though I have fallen far
So I have risen high
And so I fall to rise
Still higher than before
And so I realize
That I was meant to soar
The higher for the fall
Which lifts me after all
The wheel of destiny
Turns slowly one to one
Unending unbegun
Life left its navel scar
My mother to her son
Compass and natal star
And so I rise again
A link within the chain
By love I came to be
A Woman
by Marcia Miller-Twiford
All her dreams safely locked away
now resurfacing as the elusive magic
reaches and stirs deep within
feelings so long ago laid to rest
vague memories of love’s sunlight
reappearing and diminishing all fear
gaining power with each new day
gently stoking the still warm embers
beneath the cold and locked heart
of a woman long disillusioned
by love’s careless abandon
Ripples of pleasure’s promise
forsaken when faced with reality
revived by a soft whisper of possibility
finding and rekindling hope
despair and disappointment laid aside
she breaks the seal that protects
her determination now powerless
when challenged by love’s truth
abandoning all fear
she once again trusts
and opens the door to tomorrow
Now eagerly vulnerable
she waits
by Marcia Miller-Twiford
All her dreams safely locked away
now resurfacing as the elusive magic
reaches and stirs deep within
feelings so long ago laid to rest
vague memories of love’s sunlight
reappearing and diminishing all fear
gaining power with each new day
gently stoking the still warm embers
beneath the cold and locked heart
of a woman long disillusioned
by love’s careless abandon
Ripples of pleasure’s promise
forsaken when faced with reality
revived by a soft whisper of possibility
finding and rekindling hope
despair and disappointment laid aside
she breaks the seal that protects
her determination now powerless
when challenged by love’s truth
abandoning all fear
she once again trusts
and opens the door to tomorrow
Now eagerly vulnerable
she waits
| Mother's Love by Gwen Madoc You are always near me Round and warm And made of Love She was My Mother Death tore us apart Now my heart Is lonely For her |
Note #3/ Mother ... upon being/
by jeanne rene watson
Note #3/ Mother ... upon being/...Marine Moms
perhaps if we hold on so tight
to each our smile
and laughter we laugh too loud
perhaps if we hug one more doubt
with arms that wrap round
old photographs and toads and baseball bats
we will stand unabashed
brazen
against the tide relinquished
form our own ebb and flow
perhaps if we kiss
each our cheek
we kiss the cheek of our sons marching
by jeanne rene watson
Note #3/ Mother ... upon being/...Marine Moms
perhaps if we hold on so tight
to each our smile
and laughter we laugh too loud
perhaps if we hug one more doubt
with arms that wrap round
old photographs and toads and baseball bats
we will stand unabashed
brazen
against the tide relinquished
form our own ebb and flow
perhaps if we kiss
each our cheek
we kiss the cheek of our sons marching
| Flower Song By Leann Marshall (For Mama) Cares not where she is planted, nor What might there be to gain Lives all her days in beauty Visions love’s most gentle rains Roots lie deep within the soil Yet she stretches for the sky And she nurtures those around her With a grace ne’er to belie As with everything held precious No different then, is she: Though no blossom lasts forever All her love will ever Be. |
The Tie that Binds
by Sandi L Schraut
bound by family
The tie that binds has in its grasp
a family held hostage tied quite fast
a strangle hold some days it seems
when its’ some freedom that you need.
and yet,
It holds you tight on coldest nights,
keeps you safe from darkest frights
and has much love in its embrace
a fathers’ strength, a mothers’ face.
When all is said and done my friends
I want to be held tight and safe
all freedoms giv’n with watchful eyes
within the grasp of binding ties.
by Sandi L Schraut
bound by family
The tie that binds has in its grasp
a family held hostage tied quite fast
a strangle hold some days it seems
when its’ some freedom that you need.
and yet,
It holds you tight on coldest nights,
keeps you safe from darkest frights
and has much love in its embrace
a fathers’ strength, a mothers’ face.
When all is said and done my friends
I want to be held tight and safe
all freedoms giv’n with watchful eyes
within the grasp of binding ties.
Mary's Gold - Haiku
by Joy Marsh
"For Mother's Day~ Childhood memories that stay with
you forever. I... will always remember my Mother and
especially my Grandmother who planted Marigolds every
year. I plant them every year in my garden and think of
them with a smile.."
planting marigolds
memories of my mother
holding out her hands
by Joy Marsh
"For Mother's Day~ Childhood memories that stay with
you forever. I... will always remember my Mother and
especially my Grandmother who planted Marigolds every
year. I plant them every year in my garden and think of
them with a smile.."
planting marigolds
memories of my mother
holding out her hands
| Important Note: All of the original writings are copyrighted, belong to those who created them, and should not be used in any way without their permission. |
| Thanks for visiting Sketch Notes. Do you have comments, questions or suggestions? Do you have an original poem suitable for Father's Day? Email me! |
 |
 |
 |
Click on the book to find a varied
selection of good reading!
Visit the Book Shelf
selection of good reading!
Visit the Book Shelf
