Tuesday, August 31, 2010


Not long ago Art Linkletter passed away and tonight's title is the name of one of his most popular shows. Art had a real way with children and if any of you remember it, (shot in living black and white) the show consisted of  "interviews" of a panel of kids. They were anywhere from 3 to 10 years old and Art would ask them questions, usually ones about themselves or their families. That was truly reality TV, nothing scripted or rehearsed and...hysterical.

Children are so open and honest. They haven't learned to fudge an answer or try to make something up. It's that genuineness that I so enjoy about my grandsons and that's what inspired this little poem. The last line is a direct, out-o-the-blow, quote from one of them, and I loved it. So as I so often do, I wrote a poem.

by Patty Lynn

Can you believe it, it's almost here.
My birthday is coming, yes, it comes every year
But this birthday's special 'cause I'm turning four,
And I'm not a baby, not a baby no more.

I can count, I can sing, oh, and I go to school.
When I wash my hands, I don't need a stool.
And I ride a bike, a two-wheeler, no less.
I know most my letters, mom says I'm the best.

I draw pretty pictures of shapes of all sizes,
And I know my colors, but some are surprises...
Like turquoise, and brick, fuchsia and lime,
Just so many colors, gosh, there's not enough time...

To learn all the names, 'sides there's so much to do
Like learning my numbers, boy, I'm telling you...
There's a lot of new things that a kid's gotta know,
Mom wishes that she could get up and go...

Like I do all day, but there's no time to rest.
'Sides bein' a kid, growin' up is the best!
It's like I was just telling my brown guinea pig,
"I simply can't wait, can't wait to be BIG!"

Monday, August 30, 2010


I can't believe it, I'm finally done with my book of poems. It's been a long process, but I can mark another something off my bucket list. I've attached a link on the bottom of this blog so that you can preview the first 15 pages. The book is actually 156 pages and producing it(publish)is quite costly. However, I have it in both a 8X10 hard copy with a dust jacket my splurge for myself and about $50 and also a 8X10 soft copy that runs about $36.
If any of you wish to order a copy, go right to the link and you could order one. I am also going to do another version in the 7X7 size softcover and that should run about $25. It'll take me a while to do that as I must begin from scratch because that's a new format. I'll let you know when that is ready.
Thanks for being patient with me throughout this tedious process. I've got to get started writing again so look for some new thoughts and poems in the weeks to come.

I've written a book with all of my poems
And when I began t'was my archives I'd comb
Recalling the times when each 'pistle was born
The times I was happy and times when forlorn.

Regardless, it prompted a thought or emotion,
A time to express my personal notion.
'Cause poems that I write are a journey of sorts,
Silly ones or creative imagined reports...

Of something that sparked me to a point that I had to...
Tell what I was feeling, have to say I was glad to.
So pen went to paper, a poem was the outcome.
Why some were so good I wanted to shouts some.

I know that there'll be more poems left to write
But it'll just have to wait til ideas take flight.
I've laid down my paper, my pen sits there, too.
For now I will wish you Goodnight and adieu.

http://www.blurb.com/books/1562579(link to the book preview)

Saturday, August 21, 2010


...I'm on a roll! Actually, I've been trying to find a moment here and a moment there so I can start writing again. As you know, I'm doing my last proofing before self-publishing my book of poems,which is intensely time consuming,so I've been writing poems that just come to me. A thought here, a title there, just as the spirit moves me.

Last night I was prompted by an old email that was thought provoking and humorous at the same time, so I put pen to paper and came up with the following. Perhaps there'll be something here that will strike a chord with you.

by Patty Lynn

If you can conquer tension without a glass of wine,
If you can wake up leisurely without concern for time,
If you can tackle dieting without the use of pills,
If you can quit complaining about your latest ills,
If you can give the credit to the one who's due,
Then I would say, without a doubt, my hat is off to you...

For tension seems a constant, self-medicating, too,
And frantic rushing seems the norm, a blur when day is through.
Now, dieting, you must confess, is difficult and stressful,
The more you try the less you lose, your anguished sleep not restful.

And do we ever, ever stop our grousing and complaining?
Instead of being positive, good attitude remaining,
We spew out only negatives, complaints who wants to hear 'em?
In fact, if truth be told, my friend, just who wants to be near 'em?

I'd rather spend the time I have in rousing celebration,
Look forward to each day I have in wild anticipation.
Besides the challenges that come, God grants me strength to face them,
No pills for ills, He's all I need, complaints, He helps erase them.

So when you feel that tension's great and time's your enemy,
Seek out the One whose in control, whose grace and love are free.
He'll take your hand and lead you through the challenges and strife
And help you understand the gift, His precious gift:

Thursday, August 19, 2010


Most of you know the signicance of this title.  The punchline is that I did write a book about my grandsons, Ian and Gavin, last Christmas and gave to my family.  I'm sure I'll be compelled to write another one as they are growing and changing every day, a lot quicker than I'd prefer.  With that in mind, this poem is a tribute to one of the twins.  Gavin, who resembles his mom physically and in many of his likes and dislikes, is the inspiration for this little poem about grocery shopping.

by Patty Lynn

I love to shop for groceries.
The supermarket's cool!
Mom tells me things about the store.
It's kinda like in school.

I look around at all the food,
"let's buy that," I insist.
But mom says we have got to stick
To what is on the list.

You might think I would want to buy
The candy,there's all kinds.
But I would rather have an orange,
But please remove the rinds.

My fav'rite fruits are raspberries
And pineapple is good,
Or broccoli that's dipped in ranch.
I'm just misunderstood...

'Cause other kids prefer dessert
And junk food by the score.
But all I want is vegetables.
Have some and I want more.

I guess I am a lot like mom.
A salad's what we'd choose.
Now add a tasty dressing,
With that you just can't lose.

I may not be like other kids
Who crave things that are sweet.
I'd rather have some vegetables.
So keep the sweet stuff, please.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010


This title concerns itself with me.  It's the way I have "come to be" lately. You can call it nostalgic, melancoly, whatever, it just means that I've been thinking back, rekindling memories. I have finished my book of poems this last week (soon I'll give you a link to get a glimpse of it) and am embarking on two new projects. One, will be to start writing again. I've written so few NEW poems that I'd like to see if I still know how.

Second, I'm beginning to write a book centering around my mother's life. This last one is completely new territory so I'm learning as I go. I'm developing an outline, consolidating a lot of information and going through mounds of photos. The other night I found a booklet that I had given to my family members back in 2002 that chronicled the last few months of my mother's life.  Much of it was quotes from the little notes, almost in diary form, that she had written during that time period.

I'm fortunate that my mother loved to write, so there is quite a bit from which I can gleen. It's an interesting perspective, aging from the standpoint of the one experiencing the process herself.  I don't know about you, but for me, I feel the clock ticking and I want to make sure that there is evidence that I was here.  Now I don't want you to think that I am morose, depressed or down about the prospect of this life ending. I'm merely more acutely aware that my life will not go on forever.  I could step off a curb tomorrow and it would be all over.  But when you are aware that the light at the end of tunnel is not so far off, you want to make sure you've done everything on your "bucket list."

For those of you who don't know what a bucket list is, I'll briefly explain.  This is list of things a person wishes to accomplish before...they...you know, kick the bucket.  My list is pretty short and I haven't even decided all the things that should be on it yet.  I just know that it's there and I'm plugging along choosing and doing the things I've told myself I would do before...  I wanted to write some songs...check.  I wanted to be a Grandma (not that I had anything to DO to make that happen)...check.  I wanted to compile a book of my poems...check.  You get the idea.

So, since I want to get back to writing some new poems, this is tonight's offering:

by Patty Lynn

When I was just a little girl,
A chubby girl at that,
I learned this lesson loud and clear:
"Don't show the world your fat!"

So when my friends were wearing shorts
Well, I was wearing jeans.
No sleeveless tops tucked in for me.
Do you know what that means?

It means you're hot, not ever cool
When temperatures are soaring.
It means no latest styles for you.
It means your wardrobe's boring.

You can't pick fashions of the day,
Just separates with jackets.
In short, their shapeless baggy things.
Too bad if you can't hack it.

Be sure you cover up those arms,
Nobody want to see 'em.
Confine them in a long sleeve top,
And never, ever, free 'em.

'Cause plumpish girls have too much flesh,
No matter if it's sunny.
A sundress on a summer's day?
You must be kidding, honey!

And so it was, the dye was cast,
Who cares if cool's your mission.
You must accept the way it is,
Fat's a wintery condition.