CAMILLE
“She is So cute” we are told constantly
and oh how we love it, her Poppy and me
She’s our little “Camookie” smart as a whip
With her fingers a-snapping, or hands on her hips

We never had figured, just a few years ago,
That this sweet little girl, AKA “Dynamo”
Would come into our lives to spread joy and beguile
And capture our hearts with her “Monkey Face” smile

Now she is three, a most innocent time,
Her problems are Huge “It’s not yours, it is MINE”
Her Mommy’s her rock, and her Daddy is wrapped
So serene her small world, until time for a nap

Right now she is young, but there will come a day
She will read this and know, we are not far away
I wrote this short poem for the future, you see
To tell her we love her – her Poppy and me

JOY

What is joy?
Joy is walking in the soft morning mist looking for the sun
Joy is seeing love in the eyes of the one you care for
Joy is the rapture of small children walking hand in hand
Joy is the white clouds drifting across an endless sky
Joy is finding happiness just when your spirits were so low
Joy is the sound of a melody made by beautiful instruments
Joy is the bountiful harvest sown by your own hands
Joy is the moon glowing full on an onyx background
Joy is the knowledge gained by opening your mind
Joy is all of these things and more
Joy is living, Joy is dying,
Joy is!

Ribbons and bows and tickle toes
That’s what a young daughter means
A ride on a swing, a flower she brings
A daisy, a clover, a rose
And the years how they fly
And we ask ourselves why
This daughter is so un-aligned
She’s happy, she’s sad
She’s good and she’s bad
At times we think she’s lost her mind
Then the teen years appear
Its’ loud music we hear, a shout,
“Did anyone call?”
Lets go to the movies, do something groovy
Have a party or go to the mall
So ah, now she’s grown
Her time is her own
She’s left in the physical way
But she’s not really gone
Cause’ when she comes home
We hear:  “Gotta do laundry, ok?”

A newborn to a novice Mom, such a burden all at once, so much to do, the day is gone too soon – a crying bundle makes the night so long
But it is such a joy!
The changes in life are so unreal, schedules can never be the same, but soon a balance will appear, life will be normal once again, Almost!
As years fly by, the bundle grows, the diapers gone now, outgrown clothes, tonsils out, braces in, “why can’t I go” a familiar sound!
And all too soon that little bundle of joy is ready to face the world.
We hope that we have done a good job, and we try not to hold them too tight to us, we must let go!
The time has come to let them fly, that tiny hand that clung to you has grown and holds another now.
Don’t cry Mom, don’t be sad, it’s all been worth it, and maybe soon, another small bundle will enter your life, and ah, who is the novice now??

It is late, I should be asleep, but thoughts go swirling in my head
The day has been busy, work is done now, why can’t I relax?

Work done, not really! Never a time with nothing to do,
Relax is an unknown scenario, feet up, head back,  No Way!

Even if it could be, my clock would make me stand at attention
Guilty for the laziness running through my bones

Oh well, as long as there is a purpose for living, work will be there
So as I lie in my comfortable bed, let the busyness swirl, finally to sleep
Tomorrow is here

Ocean waves are like hope, expectations of life
Hope, rushing to the shore with wild abandon towards unknown obstacles
Then gently pulling back as if unsure of what else lies ahead.
Sometimes hopes are shattered like the millions of shells that come tumbling to shore with the tide, but even at that, dreams spring from lost hope, just as the shells turn to grains of sand.  So all is not lost, time is the key to unlock the door, and let the waves wash away any doubts and make us stronger to face the next tide.