Whisper 


There’s a whisper of sadness in the crisp November air;

solemn raindrops adorn the bare tree branches 

like bejewelled tears.

The sun peaks out and smiles wanly

at the confused pink flowers 

which have emerged so late in the day…

How soon will the cold kill them,

turning their girlish blush into brown rot?

Memories creep closer like Christmas.

Loss hangs at the back of my throat—

waiting to pounce!

Early Evening Glory

Last week, after a vivacious spring day of intense showers interspersed with golden sunshine pouring through steely grey clouds, I snuck out while my kids were having their bedtime snack to drink in the early evening glory of the garden.    

       

I love the peppery purple scent of lupins…they always make me think of high school graduation because they were blooming abundantly in our back yard when I was finishing grade 12. We took pictures of me in my velvet green ( :> !) grad dress in front of a pink, purple and blue sea of lupins in our garden. 

        
Everything is glorious after the rain…the delicate ferns curling their fingers artistically…the billowy cotton candy clouds that look so bouncy and fluffy you could surely dance on them, if you could only get up there….the little pansy playing peekaboo underneath the blooming thyme bush.
Is it any wonder, with a garden like this (I take no credit; it’s my green-thumbed and maybe even fingered landlord) that taking out the compost is my favourite chore? 

  

  

Wishing you all a beautiful Mother’s Day Weekend, with many flowers and gorgeous sunsets! 

My Penny is Worth a Million Bucks

Some people think they know about pennies…
shiny bright little things that make children happy

and help them dream dreams of being big,

the kind of thing you carry in your pocket

just for luck.


But they know nothing of richness

of real treasure

unless they know my Penny. 


My Penny is worth a million bucks.


She is the kind one whose eyes I can see twinkle 

even over the phone as I call, yet again, to say,

“So, are you bored without me?”


She is the one who makes me tea 

when I arrive in a fluster 

of post-transit with kids business

and sit my big belly down

in the office sofa seat.


She is the one who knows,

(6 babies later)

everything about me,

and with her magic spinning wheel

tells me when the latest Eastland will arrive. 


She is the one who gives the kids stickers—

their favourite part—

besides getting to push the Doppler button

and hearing the new babies heartbeat,

and certainly reason enough

for them to request a new sibling

every year or two…


So my beautiful, wonderful Penny

know how much you are loved

and that you will always be

part of the birth story of all my children,

and more than that,

ever a part of our family.


If you promise to come 

and have tea with us at our house

we will even give you a sticker!

  

Misty Moon

  
There’s a misty werewolf moon tonight
and it reminds me of a poem I wrote you

 just over 6 months ago

before you were born,

while you were still with us. 
The stars twinkle reassuringly 

in the cold night sky,

but the gloominess of this moon

covered in snatches of thin clouds 

like scattered veils,

brings me to tears.
Perhaps it shines brighter from your side

—up in Heaven—

with no clouds in the way. 
One day, honey, promise you’ll show me.