Mom had difficult time understanding me as I explained just how perfect her sterling silver dinner knives were for digging perfect holes in the dirt, digging up the garden's carrots and radishes and replanting them after finding they were not ready for harvest, following a ground squirrel hole or two deeper to see if the squirrel was home, but not much else. That all changed when Dad brought home some real digging implements: Captain Matheny's collection.
POETRY and OTHER THOUGHTFUL THINKIN’S
5 posts
I can’t fly, but I can fly a Kite. slow and gentle through the breeze or fast and swift directly into a tree. I see the tail up in a branch What a short life had my new kite. No puedo volar, pero puedo volar un papalote. Lento y ligero en la brisa, raudo y veloz contra el árbol. Alcanzo a ver la cola en una rama. ¡Este papalote, no hadurado nada!
One of Dan Winans’ copyrighted art designs reminds us our long-time worship of God. From the Biblical-historical record, it’s been about 4000 years since Abraham became God’s chosen patriarch whose family story of faith would be shared with all who would hear. God’s love is meant for each of us and for us to share that message of love and hope with others. The Bible passage shared here is from Old Testament, Psalms:33:21. “For our hearts shall rejoice in him because we have trusted in his hold name.” (If you are interested in Dan’s art, Dan can be contacted: TEXAS BOOGIE DESIGNS; P.O. Box743; Somerset, TX 78069.) “Smile. Jesus Loves You” is another one of Dan Winans’ copyrighted works that he is sharing with us. […]
by Mae Ernst Elliot I leaned against the old rail fence and watched the sinking sun, And thought of how many, many suns had set upon this scene. I saw the evening star hang: As cooling sand was felt beneath my feet. I looked toward the old gray house where families once had dwelt— The broken windmill, iron bedstead beneath the old oak tree— The fallen roof, the old chimney— what stories the could tell Of people who have lived and loved in that big family. I left the calf back in his pen and drove the milk cow out And thought of all the cattle that rail’d kept in and out. Through many years and seasons and it was then I knew I was part […]
from Poems to Play/Poemas Para Jugar by Bertha Jacobson from her 2019 book of Bilingual Poems for Children: My brother, dressed in western clothes, Mi hermano vestido al estilo oeste, could ride his horse for hours. montaba al caballo por horas. He always was a sheriff on the go, Siempre era el sheriff ocupado, fighting against the apaches in pajamas (that was us). peleando contra apaches empiyamados (nosotros). My sister’s steer belonged to the circus, and she tied a pink ribbon around its neck. With an elegant style she could even stand on its back, while the crowd blasted in great applause. El corcel do me hermana era de circo, y le ataba un listón rosado al cuello, Con gran elegancia hacía pirurtas en so […]