Monday, September 29, 2008


As I've mentioned previously, children have always had a special place in my heart. I am an elementary school teacher and I've always had a unique connection to the children who have been a part of my life. A few years ago I was inspired by the idea of writing a children's book. A number of my longer children's poems would lend themselves to that forum as well. For the next few entries I'd like to share some offerings with you and would welcome any comments you might have. And so begins a new section in my blogs that I will call simply: POEMS FOR CHILDREN. 
 Penelope Pickle One day found a nickel, 
And thought it a wonderful prize. 
When asked ‘bout the nickel, 
She started to giggle and a gleam there appeared in her eyes. 

 “I was walking down Isthmus Just minding my business, 
When suddenly I spied on the walk, 
All tiny and shiny Like a jewel from the briny, 
Why that nickel, well, it almost talked!” 
 It said, “Finders keepers, And losers are weepers, 
Besides you could never find who... 
Has dropped me, kept going, 
Impossible knowing. I might as well go home with you.”

 “So I picked up the nickel,” Said Penelope Pickel, 
And ran just as fast as I could. 
I showed it to mother, and William, my brother, 
It went in my bank, as it should.” 

 When safely inside it, I couldn’t deny it,
 My piggy I shook up and down. 
The noise of the clinking, It got me to thinking, 
And I put piggy down on the ground.
 Mom’s birthday was coming. 
I remembered Dad humming 
As he wrapped up her present just so. 
I wondered if I could 
Shop for something like Dad would, 
Piggy’s belly’s the one that would know.
But how much was in it? I’d have to begin it, 
Removing my piggy bank’s stopper. 
As I did coins fell ‘round me, 
All the clatter, it found me 
Scooping up all that silver and copper. 
What I found in a flash A
s I counted my stash, 
Was a total of five dollars five...
 That I put in my pocket, 
As fast a rocket, 
And ran down the steps to the drive.
 My heart began racing 
And anticipating 
As I rode to the gift shop nearby. 
Come on, bike, get going, 
Past neighbors out mowing. 
Come on, bike, you’ve just got to fly!

I finally got there. I couldn’t help but stare... 
At pretties up high on glass shelves, 
Lovely boxes and trinkets, I said, “Well, I think it’s... 
The time girls should think for themselves!
 And then in an instant,
 My heart was insistent. 
I spotted a beautiful site. 
A locket all golden, 
The clerks, well, I told them, 
I hope that the locket's priced right! 

Oh, what would they tell me, 
Could they even sell me... 
This necklace I wanted for mom? 
Do I have enough money, 
If not, that’s not funny, 
I tried to be patient and calm. 
 When the clerks both returned, 
I found out what they learned: 
The locket was four ninety three.
That’s not all the facts, Of course, there was tax, 
Oh, please, be enough, let it be. 
When the tally was in, I started to grin. 
The total was five dollars five. 
I couldn’t believe it Or even conceive it,
 And into my purse made a dive. 

 As I took out the change And counted, arranged, 
I couldn’t but think of that nickel. 
I thought, I reflected, A surprise, unexpected, 
What luck!" said Penelope Pickel. 
 I sped my way home, Passed the neighborhood gnome 
Who I waved to me as I peddled by. 
Then went straight to my room, As I whistled a tune. 
My excitement I just couldn’t hide. 
 Soon mom’s day was here I wanted to cheer, 
‘Cause I knew that she’d love what I got. 
Then she tore off the wrapping And I starting clapping,
 ‘Cause I knew that she'd like it a lot. 
 And that is the end of the story. I think you’ll agree it’s not boring. 
"It began with a nickel", Said Penelope Pickle, 
"So that nickel should get all the glory!"

Sunday, September 28, 2008

A Grandchild is Certainly one of God's Sweetest Gifts

On this particular date I am blessed in two ways. First it is my daughter and her husband's sixth anniversary.Having your child marry someone you yourself would pick, there are not words to say how wonderful that is. But it gets better.
This Tuesday will mark the 2nd birthday of my twin grandbabies, two precious boys that are truly the light of my life. Since these two events came so closely, we celebrated both today. I write a poem for my children's anniversaries and have, of course, followed that tradition with a poem for "the boys". My hope is that someday in the far distant future they will go back and read their grandma's poems and smile a little. The second offering is this year's anniversary poem for my daughter and her husband.

By Patty Lynn (alias Grandma)

I cant’ believe it happened.
Two years have just flashed by…
In what has seemed an instant.
On mem’ries I rely.

How small you were,
Two tiny babes.
A miracle to me!
How could I know,
How fast you’d grow,
A “Gwapa” I would be!

But from those little packages
Have come such darling boys,
Who now can walk
And even talk,
Who love to make such NOISE!

The days I spend with both of you,
It’s hard to tell just how…
You fill my heart,
As from the start,
Like you I say, “Oh, wow!”

No one can quite prepare you…
For the joy grandchildren give.
It fills you up,
A precious cup,
I’m happy just to live…

Each day, each week, beside you.
Mere words don’t seem enough.
God bless you two,
Your whole life through.
I love you both so much!

By Patty Lynn

I’m sure that many years ago
When you were awf’lly young,
You dreamed of someday finding
That very special one…
Who’d be your friend and confidant,
Who’d hold you close at night,
And tell you just how much you’re loved,
(That dream would be just right!)

And then one day it happened.
You met the one for you,
And realized that dream you dreamed
Was really coming true!
For finding one who loves you
The way you want to be,
Is something quite remarkable,
In love your heart’s the key.

All that would be fantastic,
If that was all you had,
But then you had two babies.
Yes, you were Mom & Dad!
So on your anniversary,
What more is there to say…
Than you’ve been blessed
With happiness,
Today and ev’ry day!”

Saturday, September 27, 2008


It's 11 o'clock in the evening and as I sit alone at my computer, a young woman that I used to work with comes to mind. This woman, just a girl to me really, was happily married, had two children and a full time job, BUT, on this particular day, she was having a meltdown. She felt like her life was rushing past so ungodly fast that she just wanted it to stop, just long enough to breathe. She HAD to work full time although she said her husband made good money, but there was daycare to pay for and the car and mortgage payments and... She confessed that she and her husband hadn't had any alone time in so long she couldn't remember when it was. She had confided in me and was looking for a shoulder to unload on. I offered my observations and suggestions and this poem.

Patty Lynn

Our life, it seems, is spinning
At such a fevered pitch.
We work full-time,
Have children, too.
There seems to be “glitch”!

We thought it would be easy
To balance our demands,
But home and work,
Daycare and kids,
We need at least eight hands!!

And what about “alone time”
For both of us to share
A moment or romantic look,
The time to say, “I Care”?

Instead, our time’s spent
Keeping Up
With all there is to do.
There’s hardly time to say the words,
Sincerely, “I Love You”.

We’ve lost the YOUs we used to be
Now we’re just Mom and Dad…
And breadwinners and homemakers.
Was this the dream we had?

I guess it’s time to look again.
Before we lose our way,
Let’s make a date,
‘for it’s to late…
And we both rue the day…
We put “on hold” the two of us,
But kept on “Keeping Up”,
Instead of overflowing love,
We'll find an empty cup!!!!

Friday, September 26, 2008


This poem was written for a young mother who was celebrating the 1st birthday of her little girl. How true that we are the teachers of our children and yet we in turn are taught by them.
In the days and weeks to come, you will find that much of my work centers around children. There will be poems that touch on what miracles children really are and poems specifically designed from a child's perspective. I hope you find them both entertaining and thought provoking.

Sweet Lily and Her Mother
By Patty Lynn

In just one year your tiny babe
Has grown & learned so much,
And so have you, her mother, too,
There’s WORLDS in ev’ry touch!

For children can be teachers,
Without intending to,
They bring out all that’s best in us,
What’s honest, kind & true.

They teach us what OUR Mother meant
When whispering she sighed,
“I love you, dear”
Her words ring clear,
Their depth can’t be denied.

Yes, children learn to crawl & walk,
But moms do much the same,
They’re unprepared and frightened,
No manual, they claim.

But ev’ryday this little one...
Needs all that you can give.
Her tiny hand fits inside yours,
Together you both live.

For matters not whose hand is whose
They melt into each other,
You’re teaching her,
She’s teaching you,
Sweet Lily and her Mother.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008


Every woman knows the trials and tribulations of having her hair colored. Whether hoping to cover up the gray or trying to achieve a new "look", it really doesn't matter. If it's something NEW, translating the exact color by description or relying on a magazine picture can be, to say the least, a challenge. This poem was one of those instances when the result wasn't at all what I expected. Thank goodness I have a wonderful hairdresser who is always willing to "go back to the drawing board", so to speak, and give it one more try. Here's the conversation I had with my husband after that dreadful first attempt.

by Patty Lynn

“What color IS that”?
My husband exclaimed!
“Well, it ain't found in Nature!”
He went on to explain.

"My beautician’s described it
As his favorite shade,
But the stares and the comments
Have made me behave…

As if I’ve got something
I wish I could hide.
So I guess that it’s best
That I don’t let it slide.

It’s too dark, it’s too deep,
In short, not like me.
I want to get back
To a place I can see…

The kind of reflection,
That I recognize;
Not one where I'm needing
To cover my eyes...

And deny it’s my image
I see in the glass,
Look bewildered, confused,
When a window I pass.

What’s more he’s a PEACH
He's offered a cure.
He’s a chemist, magician,
His intentions were pure."

So I hurried on back,
Took a seat in his chair,
And watched him achieve
MY color of hair!

So warm and so golden,
For the autumn ahead.
He knows what I mean,
By "the shimmer of red”.

The highlights, they glistened
As they caught ev’ry light.
Yes, this time the COLOR
Was exquisitely RIGHT!!!!"

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Sometimes Important People Move On

In July of 2007 I had my left knee replaced and, yes, I heard every horror story you can think of. Someone is always there to tell you of someone they know that had a terrible experience, a great deal of pain and ultimately had to say, "it never healed right". Their intentions are good...or are they? But be that as it may, it had to be done. Fortunately I was led to an exceptional surgeon who was so kind and sensitive, he called me two days before the surgery to quell any fears I might have. He even gave me his cellphone number! That's one for the books, don't you think?? Long story short, I had a perfectly wonderful experience and a fabulous result but knew I would have to have the other one done, more sooner than later. The second, the right, was replaced this past May and I'm happy to report that the result there was equally as successful. The only negative was that the doctor decided to move to a small town in Wisconsin and I would have to travel some distance if, God forbid, I required replacement of any other body parts. Because he was such a remarkable fellow, I felt compelled to put pen to paper and leave this poem with him before he left.

New Knees
By Patty Lynn

This day comes way too sudden,
My sense of loss profound…
I feel that I must tell you,
I wish you’d stick around!!!

For doctors of your caliber,
Who truly, truly care,
Are such a rare exception,
But life just isn’t fair.

With all the surgeries I’ve had
And major ones, it’s true,
I’ve never found a surgeon,
Who was a skilled as you.

But more than that, you treated ME
Not merely my condition,
A doctor so approachable,
My hopes came to fruition.

Without my sounding negative,
More surgery’s in store,
And if that’s true, I wish I could…
See you walk through the door…

And calm my fears, assuring me…
That all will be okay,
Then I could “face the music”
With you to show the way.

But life goes on and you now need
A change in your direction,
And all of this will be for me,
My personal reflection.

I wish the best to all of you,
Your girls and faithful wife,
I pray this change will be for you
A good thing in your life.

I’m grateful for your special care
Your skill and expertise,
You’ve been so very generous,
Thanks, Doc, for my new knees!!!!

Monday, September 22, 2008

The Gloriousness of New Life

When I wanted to commemorate the birth and the christening of two precious children, I wrote the following two poems. I am so awe inspired when new life comes to be. I'd have to say babies are some of my favorite people.

By Patty Lynn

It starts with a cry
A new life comes to be
A branch has been added
To your fam’ly tree.

So darling, so pink,
Perfect fingers and toes
Two lives making one…
So the miracle goes!

You must savor each day,
And cherish each minute.
Time moves so fast,
Put everything in it.

Rejoice in her birth,
Grace her cheek with a kiss,
For nothing compares
To a moment like this!

A sweet baby girl
Changes Couple to Three,
Her presence has blest you…
You’re now, FAMILY!

By Patty Lynn

On this your precious Christening Day, we gather here in love,
As Water and the Word combine, as God from up above…
Makes you His Child, takes your soft hand, looks down on your sweet face,
And offers you the blessing of His everlasting Grace.

So, Darling Dear, we share this day, such joy within our hearts,
And thank Him for His love divine, so glad we are a part…
Of all that’s meant by Christening, bestowing Christ—on you.
This priceless gift He’s granted here, will last your whole life through.

So as we watch you learn and grow, discovering so much,
We all will be reminding you of God’s protecting touch.
Surrounded by His love and ours, you cannot help by flourish,
For love alone can feed your heart,
But God your soul will nourish.

Sunday, September 21, 2008

Each Day is Precious

In the year 2000 my sister and I had the rare privilege of taking part in the making of a lifetime memory. Our mother, then 87 years old, had periodically kept in contact with her high school best friend, Wilma. (just to put that in perspective, that was 75 years earlier!) Mom hadn't seen her friend, now living in California, for 25 years. Both were widows and still living in their own homes.

My sister and I thought it a wonderful idea to reunite these two friends by flying out to California for a weekend visit. As you can imagine, their reunion was memory-making for all of us. How blest we were to have had this opportunity. Before we left I had put pen to paper and composed the following:

by Patty Lynn

If today is yesterday's tomorrow,
May I make the most of today,
May each one I meet remember me
For my kind and sensitive way.
Yes, we're granted but one chance to live life
And our Lord expects it to be...
The way on this earth He would live it,
Through my deeds only Him should they see.

So with this in mind I'll remember:
Tomorrows become yesterdays.
Make the most of them all
To look back and recall...
Cherished mem'ries of all those todays.

Friday, September 19, 2008

The Month of October will soon be here....

Being an October baby, I have always had a love affair with Autumn in general and October, specifically. The first I actually set to music; the second was my attempt at new poem design, the third is self-explanatory. All are a dedication to Fall.

October's Sky
by Patty Lynn

The winds are much crisper, the falling leaves whisper...
Your name and then they ask why.
Why we aren't together enjoying Fall weather,
Here 'neath October's Sky.

I often remember our last September
When we held each other tight,
Can't help reminiscing, it's you that I'm missing,
Here 'neath October's Sky.


We always said our love was destined to be...
Forever, together, we two.
I only know for me there's no one but you,.
I wish I could make you see...

That we could start over, begin this October,
Our love has a chance yet to be.
As winds start their chilling, please tell me you're willing...
For love 'neath October's Sky

by Patty Lynn

Oh, cloudless sky and crisp cool wind respledent color burns...
In shades of yellow, orange and red all year my spirit yearns...
For this October rhapsody, that fills my mind and soul.
I hear its song and I belong.
October makes me whole.

I can't describe this feeling, as deep as Autumn's hues.
A melancholy melody much like the soulful blues...
But colors fade and Autumn wanes, the season makes its close,
Transitioning to winter white, the sparkling blanket knows...
What lies beneath so much alive, yet sleeping for a time,
These buds will bring new birth in Spring,
But this October's mine.

I revel in its splendor, drink in each fragrance fresh,
Right to the core, through ev'ry pore,
Exhilarates my flesh!

I'll savor ev'ry moment, so grateful that I'm in it,
Thank God above for His great Love
And each October minute.

Autumn Reflections
by Patty Lynn

By Pat Marsh

As the days become shorter & cold breezes blow,
I’m reminded of autumns so long ago,
When taking for granted each color and nuance,
I thoughtless pondered just what I would do once…
The piles were collected and I would jump in,
With playmates and neighbors. What a terrible din…
Of shouts, affirmations, “fall’s finally here!”
How I loved my red nose and each freezing ear.

No hat, seldom coats, just a constant abandon,
Short days and long nights and putting my hand in…
Those gooey old pumpkins with wild, scary faces,
Combing closets and attics and various places…
To find just the perfect costume to wear,
Applying the make-up, mom fixing my hair,
To go door to door, was it trick or it treat?
All I knew was I’d soon have some goodies to eat!

Then stuffed to the gills I’d crawl into bed.
I knew, all too well, I’d been over fed!
And the days that soon followed, how quickly they flew,
Thanksgiving vacation! I hadn’t a clue…
What went into the turkey, the dressing and all,
And why they all called it the Great Butterball?
I’m much older now and much wiser, they say,
But I’d much rather leave this ol’ job and just play!

Although I was anxious a grownup to be,
A jump in the leaves sounds MUCH better to me!

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Ah, how great it would be to have nothing to do....

A few years back I was working at a successful company, loved the people I worked with but the job, that was another story. There never was enough to do. But, of course, an employee never advertises that fact. I was thrilled to just have a job! I don't know about you, but if anybody asked me what I would find unbearable in a job, I'd say, "not having enough work to keep me busy for eight hours". The following was composed on a day like that.

by Patty Lynn

I think I'll go crazy one day, very soon.
They'll come and they'll take me...
To my own little room,
No windows, no music, just soft padded walls,
And no one will answer my occasional calls...
For help and for comfort, for something to do.
I'll scream and I'll holler and after I'm through,

Perhaps a kind soul, with a great sense of humor,
Swings open the door, says, " I wish I could do more...
But there just isn't anything else to amuse you,
No work and no projects, I hate to refuse you...
But this is the way of the corporate world,
Pretend that you're working, you fortunate girl,
You have a good sal'ry and benefits, too,
Most folks would be pleased with so little to do!"

"You don't understand", I'll plead with him, plainly,
"The bennies are great, it's the silence that mainly...
Gets under my skin, it's unbearable, really,
To which he responds, "you're so terribly silly."
So slowly, methodically, I return to my desk,
To the quiet, the nothing, "this must be a test"...
I say as I sit there convinced I'll go nuts,
"No work is my sentence, no ifs, ands or buts!"

For the truth is there isn't much difference at all...
'Tween the room that's all padded and my desk down the hall!

Is Youth Really Wasted on the Young?

It seems only fitting that I write something on youth, since I think I've thoroughly covered the other side of the coin. See what you think of this one. Talk about the inevitable...

by Patty Lynn

I've come to the conclusion
Youth's wasted on the young.
How can they be so careless?
They only think of FUN!!

Why can't they put their energies...
Into making healthy choices?
We're trying to prepare them,
But they never hear our voices.

They eat whatever moves them,
They stay out late at night,
They drive too fast,
And sometimes smoke.
That just plain isn't RIGHT!

What is it that they're left with
When the years keep right on sneaking?
If they only knew, just what they do
And the havoc that they're wreaking!!!

I'll tell you what's the outcome
And why we fret and fuss,
The dye is cast,
Youth soon is past
And what is left is...US!

At the Expense of Sounding Like a Broken Record...

As I went through what, surprisingly, was a huge folder of poems, I came across another poem that deals with the inevitable. So, just to keep like subjects together, I've included it in with this week's Blogs. I promise there will be many other poems on a variety of subjects and that I will leave the "Age Thing" alone after this(for a while). Hope you enjoy this one. It puts perspective on what really needs to be our focus as we grow older.

by Patty Lynn

I've heard it told that getting old is just a frame of mind.
If that is so, I'd like to know why this is what I find:
A frame that's frail, complexion pale,
Time hasn't been too kind!

For frames of any kind are such, they can't be "thought" away,
I choose to say,
With ev'ry day,
My Master's hand holds sway!

God grant me eyes that always see the beauty of each flower,
A loved one's kiss, a gift is this,
I'm thankful for each hour...
And day and week I breathe fresh air
And watch a child at play,
The wonder of a robin's song,
I have not words to say...
How thankful is my heart for these,
Such blessings God has given,
And when at last,
This life is past,
I'll live with Him in heaven.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

How True, How True!!!

As I have yet another thought about aging, I wish to give you another spin on the process, reality and fantasy. If there are any young readers out there, take heart, this isn't meant to scare you, merely to prepare you. (My gosh, can't this woman ever keep from rhyming?) Guess not. It's a curse! 

Who Says We Get Better? 

by Patty Lynn
Who says we get better, get better with age? 
Did that someone not know of the war that we wage... 
With time and its ravages that leave us alone, 
Alone with the savages of aches and or moans,
Of creaks and the cracks that come with each morning, 
That sneak up upon us, attack without warning? 
Is it better to see an uneven complexion… 
Than the bright, lineless face of a youthful expression?
And what of this body, encumbered and weighty? 
Although "middle-aged", most days it feels eighty! 
 Who says we get better, get better with age? 
I'd like to believe this is merely a stage...
And one lovely morning I'll awake from this nightmare, 
Discover there's brown roots underneath all this white hair. 
The clock on the wall no more functions clockwise, 
But counters its movement, no glasses for these eyes!
For time's moving backwards, I'm youthening, slowly, 
To my twenties, no, thirties, a time that was holy, 
And I’ve learned that I cannot take this for granted. 
Now, I know what I know, youth's folly recanted. 

 Though we may not get better, get better with age, 
The truth is we're wiser, confined by the cage... 
Of "some" limitations, Alas, no reversal, 
One performance we're given Life’s NOT a rehearsal!


Believe folks, these are just for fun and a silly perspective on O'l Father Time.
There will be many poems to follow, some funny, some for special occasions, some
for children. I hope you enjoy my first offering and they put a smile on your face.
I was smiling as I composed them. Let me know what you think.

Dear Doctor…
by Patty Lynn

I want to get lipoed and tightened and lifted,
Begin at my toes and put back what has shifted.
You say that we're talking a HUGE overhaul?
So what is the problem, take care of it all!
They do it for cars when their parts are failing.
A "slight" pick-me-up and I'll have smoothe sailing!

LOVEHANDLES they call them, I call them disgusting!
My hourglass figure could use some adjusting.
You see, all the sand found its way to the bottom,
And, by the way, saddlebags – Oh, yes sir, I got 'em!
My "wings" keep a-flappin' long after my arm's done,
And chins, I've a couple, but I'd rather just have ONE.

So let me repeat, for some lipo I'm asking,
And while you are at it, could you try multi-tasking?
'Cause when you have "sucked out" all the flab that's in excess,
Plastic surgery's needed to make this a success…
And when it's all over "A NEW WOMAN" they'll call me.
I know that I'm silly and all this is folly,
But it'd be great if TIME didn't matter,
If each year we're older we wouldn't get fatter!

So guess I'll keep dreaming and hoping I'll find...
Like for RUST, an inhibitor, for Old Father Time!

by Patty Lynn

Comb-over, comb-over
Why do you comb-over…
That long skinny piece from the side?
You're bald now, so face it,
That piece won't erase it,
A whole shiny scalp it won't hide!

I know that you're hoping it'd grow back
That the hair of your youth would return,
But the truth is, it won't
So, please, sir, please don't.
It shows all the world that you yearn…
For a time when an Afro and sideburns
Was a statement of youth and aggression.
This look just won't do you,
Not becoming to you,
In short, gives a lousy impression!

So revel in baldness, it's sexy!
Content that you are what you are,
A guy lacking hair,
The whole world best BEWARE!
And put down the top…of your car.

The Man Poem
By Patty Lynn

It's true that the males'
A different breed,
And, when in his youth
Knows just what he needs:
A girl who is curvy,
A girl who is pretty,
Who's favorite show
Is Sex in the City.
No brains, EASY going
A bombshell and more;
She enters a room,
Jaws drop to the floor!

But as he matures,
A true oxymoron,
Man finds there's some value,
(Though to him it seems foreign),
In having a mate
Who is smart,
Who is strong,
Who'll love him no matter
How SHORT or how LONG...
He gives his attention
And shows her some int'rest.
She loves him regardless
In fact, she seems impressed…
When he brings her flowers,
Asks her out on a date,
She primps and she preens
In short, she can't wait!

But then, mid-life crisis
Takes hold of his head,
Convinces completely
He's soon to be dead!
He's determined he's got
To assure he's attractive,
Find someone who's younger
Who's vital, who's active,
Who likes someone older.
Why, she'll keep him young,
And after his fling
Lord, look what he's done:

He's lost the best mate
A man ever had.
His children no longer
Revere their ol' dad.
The sports car's disabled
And, oops, so is he!
She gone and he's lonely.
You have to agree!

So guys, if you're list'ning,
Be careful and wise,
Appreciate women
Just open your eyes…
And treat them with kindness
Please treasure their worth
Or you might be called
The "last man on earth"!

Sunday, September 14, 2008

So Easy a Child Can Do It or Where is a Child When You Need One!

Well, Loyal Readers (Now that's an Assumption!),

As most of you know, I thought it a good idea to start blogging and so I began the process of setting up a blog. Easy, right? So how does one begin? Well, there's nothing like to start the search for information and I, of course, had no idea how to set up a blog. So, after a number of what I choose to call "circles" I was led to Blogger. com. By the way, a "circle" is a search that sends you in, you guessed it, circles. But I digress.

Back to the pursuit of blogging. I followed the prompts, chose a name, answered a number of questions, accepted certain policies (I'm not sure what they are), and designated my own personal address, which, as it was explained in the prompts was "the address folks would enter to find you". And that was it. It was a FREE service (gotta love the price) and I was all set. Ahhh, but was I??

I've now written my first BLOG and with wild anticipation I send off a few emails to friends to alert them of this fact and, of course, in so doing I convince them all that I am truly "with it" as I have taken my place amongst the thousands of bloggers, all of which, I am sure, are much younger but not necessarily wiser than I am.

So the following morning I rush to my computer excited to find myself, that is, my blog online! I type my web address in the search bar and low and behold...No Results Found! What? How can this be? I did everything they told me, I had an address, and my riveting first attempt at a blog was nowhere to be found...except by ME! Somehow this defeats the whole idea of a blog, I thought. I wanted to be able to share my thoughts, my poems, my children's stories, ask for comments, and I'm the only one that can access my blog???

Thus began the search for where I went wrong. I tried one thing after another after another but to no avail. I even created a blog for my husband (who, by the way, does not blog) in hopes that I could find that one piece, that one area where I went wrong and finally blog for someone, anyone, but ME.

Then finally after spending hour after frustrating hour, bleary eyed and convinced the answer would never come, I found it, why no one could find ME but ME. I had "choose a domain and register it" Duh!!!!! They never said that in the sign up. That was never mentioned. But that doesn't matter now. I am cool, I am hip, I know what a domain is (I've registered it) and now I'm ready to BLOG. Yippee!!!!!

Friday, September 12, 2008

My Copywrited Work /An Introduction

As I've just created this blog, I believe it's best to begin by introducing myself to you. I'm a woman who's initials are PMS. Doesn't that speak volumes? I guess you could say I'm at a transitional point in my life, that is, I'm young enough to remember that when I was young, people my age were considered old. Now that would certainly ignite the eire of my sibling who is quick to criticise my references to "being old". Truth is, I am just a realist and as such I realize that life, at this juncture (oh, how I love that phrase!) has limits. Someone of my "tender age" comes to the point where there are only so many summers left, only so many Christmases, etc.

But lest you think me a pessimist, being aware of such things does not make me negative. I truly relish every day, every sunrise and sunset, and all the moments in between. I must confess, however, that my lust for life has been rejuvenated by the birth of my two grandsons, Ian and Gavin. These precious boys will turn 2 years old at the end of this month and during these past 2 years I have been fortunate to be with them almost daily, a blessing that this wordsmith feels completely inadequate to describe. Suffice it to say, they bring so much joy to my life that every day spent with them is a day I wish I could "freeze frame"!

This may give you a little insight into the author of what I have called Poetically Speaking, but I believe my poetry and short stories will give you a better picture of "what makes me tick". Simply put, my writings reflect my love for the people in my life and the children who grace it with their presence.

I have accumulated quite a library of poems and stories that I have written for loved ones and children, in particular. It is my priviledge to share them with you. If they touch a cord or spark a memory, I'm pleased to have a part in that. We humans share so much in the way of memories and feelings. Not to say our individual ones aren't unique, but sometimes it takes the recollections of someone else to bring them forward in our minds.

I look forward to sharing my writings with you and I hope you will share your comments with me as you read them. I promise that I will read each response and take your thoughts to heart.