Thursday, November 1, 2018

A COMMENTARY ON MY COMMENTARY - Previously Unpublished

I spoke with one of my 'followers' today, someone who generally comments on my most recent offering and I guess I was surprised by the reaction to my poem called, Embers. The reader felt it was a 'downer,' a bit depressing.  I know my poetry typically deals with more lighthearted subjects but, as I said in the blog's preface, I had a heavy heart about all the tragic things that have been happening in this world of ours and I wanted to express that. 

Once I did I guess you could say I made a plea to the reader to realize there are things we can do to improve the world we live in, one person, one family at a time.  I made reference to the Golden Rule, a concept that everyone is familiar with, no matter if you're a Christian or not because it makes simple sense and I think we sometimes lose sight of this principle.  To me, if you treat other people the way you would like to be treated yourself, it would be a much kinder, simpler and more pleasant world.

In closing, let me say if any of you out there felt the same about the poem, Embers, it was not my intent to bring anyone down, rather I needed to express the heaviness in my heart and point out some of the simple things we could do to make some positive changes.

THE INNOCENT SWEETNESS OF CHILDREN - Prerviously Unpublished

Today is November 1st, 2018.  I had just published my most recent poem when I noticed that this was considered a DRAFT which meant it was never published.  So as I read this entry dated November of 2011,  I was instantly taken back to a day in the life of my now 12-year-old grandsons.  I remember this day as if it were yesterday, the two of them so sweet and innocent, and of course, how precious! If you don't have grandchildren yourself I pray that you will at some point because what we who do can say unequivocally, the love for your grandchildren is indescribable and deep.  Regardless, I couldn't let this to go unpublished, though it will always be remembered!


Today was an exceptionally beautiful day. My daughter and my two grandsons were here.  Because Ian was working with his Mom upstairs, Gavin, Grandma and Sprout had some special one on one time.  Who's Sprout? Sprout is a hand puppet that I include in some of my Sunday School lessons and is a particular favorite of both my grandchildren. They love to have Grandma simulate a little boy's voice and engage Sprout in conversation. In the past, both boys want Grandma's attention at the same time while wishing to have her all to themselves. But today Gavin wanted to go downstairs to share his gears and gearbox with Sprout, explaining each one and what it does to Sprout's willing ears and probing questions.

Now don't be mislead. Neither one of them believes Sprout is a real boy but they do like pretending that he is. The conversation is directed at the puppet but there is the frequent eye dart to Grandma's mouth, as well.  Today the conversation dealt with the gears, favorite foods, favorite colors, monsters, school and learning letters and sounds, and...the list goes on.

It was so adorable to hear this little four-year-old, so genuine, so animated, just bubbling over with so many things and, of course, I was privileged to be a part of it. It was like having a bird's eye view of two little boys getting to know one another, discussing what they liked and what they liked to do. I've got to say it was wonderful just having Gavin to myself while Ian was doing an activity with his mom upstairs.  Regardless, these moments are ones I will always treasure!

THE NAMELESS FACELESS THING

About 10 days ago I came down with a mystery illness.  I call it that because it was never given a name and so started the downward spiral.  Now I could explain what I mean by all that but today's poem does a good job of doing just that.

THE MYSTERY
By Patty Lynn

In keeping with the season, all Halloween and scary,
I'll tell you of my mystery, read on, but please be wary!
You see, I've got a tale to tale, a tale that I confess...
Is one I've lived, am living now, to say the least, I'm stressed!

It's started back a week ago, when Frank had quite a scare.
He felt a little off, he said, but evidence was there...
That indicated he should see His doc to check it out
Who told him that the ER was his best & clearest route.

And so we went to have the tests, the pokes and all that meant
But all we got was, “We don't know”(so hardly time well spent.)
“We'll say that you came in today with lower quadrant pain...
But we think that diverticulitis is to blame.”

My theory is that we came home with something unforeseen,
A virulent, atypical kind of viral bug, I mean,
That grabbed me, shook me, threw me down and took me for a ride,
That caused me to feel very sick, from inside to outside.

So though they couldn’t name it, they knew what it was not,
“We know it's not bacterial, but don't know what you've got.” 
A mystery, it surely is, this nameless, faceless “thing."
But while they threw their hands up, to this I clearly cling...

That now they had to face the fact that knowing it was viral,
They didn't have a single thing, no drug or treatment vital
To offer me, to cure this thing, it had to run it’s course,
Which meant that I could now go home, believe me, no remorse!

The mystery is still just that, a bug without a name,
But now I'm home where I prefer, and no one is to blame.
I'm glad to be in my own home in jammies, not a gown.
I know I'll lick this bug from here, can't keep this good gal down!