Sunday, March 2, 2014

7 Happy Poems to Welcome Spring


I don’t care what the thermometer says. I don’t care how much snow is in the forecast. There is baseball being played somewhere.

I’m declaring spring!

And is there a better way to celebrate spring than reading some high school poetry? I think not. Poetry in general can be kind of morose, grim, and down right depressing. That’s not what we need right now.

We need happy, inspiring poetry that makes us think warmer and better days are ahead. And guess what? They are.

Here Comes the Sun
While I love The Beatles version of this song, I may love this live version performed by Richie Havens. I’ve been playing this song frequently since his death in 2013, so it was an easy decision to make on which one would be the soundtrack to this blog post.

Havens sings with an earnestness and hopefulness that is infectious. Here’s hoping it gets the warmer sun here a little faster.

little one
for Elizabeth

Elizabeth and I at S'onk Patrick's wedding

Summer winds brought
you into this big world, little one,
and you became our big angel.

You quickly captured big hearts,
dazzling with your big wondering eyes
and big open mouth smiles.

You were an instant big celebrity,
the center of the big stage, just like mommy,
even though you looked like your big daddy.

Six months into your little stay,
you face a big fight, little one,
more than just a big tummy ache.

It’s too soon, I know,
but you have to be a big girl now,
little one.

Your big friends and big s’onks
are saying big prayers,
so fear not little one, you’re not alone.

You have big life to live
and big love to give, little one;
this big world needs your big dreams and big hopes.

Winter winds are not here to stay,
but your big smiles and big laughs are, little one,
so weather the big storm and we’ll keep you safe and sound.

Saturday Morning With Dad

Raking the backyard with Pops
Back and forth does the rusty blade sway,
sweeping the rest of
the tall grass away.

The mower strays behind me,
with good ol’ Dad,
who wants to do nothing more
than run and flee.

We trudge silently along
with the sound of
the mower and the blade
as our only song.

Our muscles begin to fade
and we pause to
stare out on
what has become the Everglades.

After a stout cough
and a little chat,
we bravely set up our plan of attack
to finish it off.  


Did you drink my milk????

The milk is gone… 
because of me.

The milk you were to pour
on your strawberry covered cereal.

At one point or another,
someone was bound to drink it.

To be totally honest,
I’m not sorry it was me!

An Angel on the Bridge

The angel protecting the next generation
She waits with angelic patience
upon her arched wooden perch,
high above the harmful waters below.

All who proceed along the protected bridge
are helped along by her selfless, caring wings
and her watchful, caring eyes of sapphire.

She diligently prays each day and night
 for her dark-haired prince to come
give her peace of mind and fill her heart with joy.

Her countenance brightens as he appears,
making his way unto her safe haven.
Before her answers are fulfilled at last,
he slips upon the slippery planks
and tumbles towards the menacing waters.

Without a thought of hesitation,
she extends her affectionate wings
and catches his falling form.
She smiles as she lifts him back unto her bridge,
guiding him to her patient heart.

Take Hold of My Heart
Written for Judy and Michael on their wedding day January 13th, 2001 

Judy and Michael
From strangers from distant lands
to lovers not so far away,
a new and special love has been brought to life.

The beginning found them faceless on
opposite ends of a computer screen,
seeing each other only in daydreams.

Time wore on and soon friendship grew to love
and those daydream images became realities
as each braved the skies and marveled at the worlds they found.

He came from a world that
had shrugged off the bitter cold of separation,
bringing pieces of a fallen wall and a flag of black, red, and gold.

She came to him from a world
that was filled with power and might,
bringing a flag of red, white, and blue with her love.

Together they braved the dangers of disapproval
and together they conquered the scare of
losing her heart to the indifferent beings of fate.

Today, with a ring and tender kiss
she takes hold of his heart as he takes hold of hers
and a higher power leads them into bliss,
where they’ll stay now and forever more.

Family Man

Pops and I at the Alamo
He looks his best in early morning light,
trying to rub his eye’s awake, barely able to walk straight,
preparing to work all day surrounded by unknown faces.

His shirts come home with stains galore from his toil,
that are added to should mom be making spaghetti
and his eyes look more tired than in that morning light.

He still manages to smile proudly,
now surrounded by those who love him most,
even the dog who isn’t the same when he’s away.

His arms are sore beyond belief from years of labor,
but yet he never declines an invitation to roughhouse,
even when mom tells him to stop before he gets hurt.

He’s always good for a conversation,
even when he has no idea what you’re talking about,
and is always good for a laugh, even if it’s at his own expense.

He waits up patiently late into the night,
so that his son can sweet-talk his girl
and can’t help dropping a line or two of his own, just to show off.

He asks nothing in return for anything he does,
except a kiss from mom and tons of hugs from his boys
and falls asleep easy each night, despite the aches and pains,
knowing that his family loves him just as much as he loves them.

The Mouser
Written with Momma Ford and Patrick 

Since I don't have a picture on me of the cat in this poem, here's one of my favorite tree in Madison Square Park!
The little mouser rocks to and fro,
keeping her distance, along with her patience…
waiting…..waiting….till the time is right…..

Her tail proudly swayed,
her keen eyes looked for praise and a friendly pat,
as she displayed her catch the day.

Her best views came from the
roof top of master’s domain,
where she watched the cautious movements of her timid prey.
After a sun bath and a little nap,
the bathroom window was her entrance to warmth
and a tired hrmph from master.
She raced him to bed where she slept and
had knitted her way into his heart.

Heavy scratches upon her front door scratching post
announced to all her appetite was back.
Her demands were quickly met,
not before the battle of who’s turn it was.
As quickly as it came, her appetite left her system
and with just two bites of the same ol’ chicken,
away she went to dig her face in a half- eaten ice cream cup.

She choose her quarters carefully at night’s end.
The cool cellar, upon that broken old work bench
in days of summer heat.
A window sill on a rainy spring day,
or the warmth of a car hood on a lonely winter day.
Of course, master’s bed was comfy on any occasion.
Wherever she lied her head to rest,
the little mouser clenched her eyes tightly,
let go a content purr
and feel fast asleep.

When you’re done snapping your fingers, check out: 


  1. What a cute story with your mom. And nice photos. I always look at old family photos when I visit my grandmother too. Its comforting.

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