Mothers' Day Boggle

Want to play?

My husband put this together for me, but I'm sure you can find some good messages, too.  Ready, set, go!

Landscape

How deep the snow,
how tall the trees
among whose tops we trod? 

How many waves
have washed the stones
that lie along the shore?

From sea level
to snow level,
the gulls and ferns and more--

He paints the canvas
where we walk,
a bounteous artist, God.

Sheet Music Competition

I've been trying my hand at a different kind of composition, and I'm not alone.  My son and I have each entered a piece to the yearly Sacred Sheet Music Competition at Free LDS Sheet Music.  We both submitted arrangements of Christmas tunes.  There are many beautiful entries.  Check them out, and vote for all your favorites!

The Wedding Gifts

Gift Box Wedding Cake by pinkcakebox

The plates have chipped,
the cups have cracked.
It's much too late
to take them back.

The quilts have ripped,
the towels are rough.
The toaster works--
one side's enough.

Two decades and
four thousand miles
are hard on dishes
and textiles.

The best gifts never
fade, you see:
of me for you,
and you for me.



For my dear husband

Perspective

Puget Sound Skyline, July 2015

smug skyscrapers swell,

full of human consequence--

dwarfed by lofty mount

On a Pedestal

Courtesy of the Boston Public Library, 

Leslie Jones Collection

When it gets too hot
in this town there's not a lot
of comfort one can get
in the form of something wet.

I climb in to get my kicks
and escape the baking bricks
and I whistle at the chicks
and ignore the tuts and tsks.

They say this bath is for the birds,
but it's good enough for me!

Clearing

Dragonfly by Rostislav Kralik

buttercup

foxglove

blue sky

blue dragonfly

bright rays break through

gray days

smiles soak up

the tears

Disparity

Photo by Elene Usdin

Don't fret
because I've pulled out
all my baggage.
I'm not moving out
or moving on,
just moving up--
the better to kiss you,
my tall dear.


For The Mag

Grandeur

Wise Men Journey, by Joyce Tremethick

They journeyed far to seek the Light,

a star their compass through the night.

Their dearest hopes and dreams, could all

be brought to pass by one so small?

The majesty of earth and skies

were kindled in the baby's eyes;

the power that ruled the heavens, crammed

into a tiny infant hand.

Wise men bow to a humble King

whose love gives life to everything.

Merry Christmas!

Clearly

Bond of Union, 1956, by M. C. Escher

     "So, what do you think of him?  Isn't he so hot?"
     "I thought it was a little chilly in the café.  But you're right, he didn't seem bothered by it."
     "I could stare into his eyes for hours.  I love the shape of his earlobes, and isn't his little beard so cute?"
     "His face is sort of appealing, but . . ."
     "But what?"
     "Something about him seems, well, only skin-deep, you know?"
     "What do you mean?"
     "His comments weren't very substantial.  And he seemed pretty thin-skinned."
     "Huh?"
     "He can't take a joke."
     "Um, when did you make a joke?"
     "You know, when I teased him about his clear nasal passages?"
     "You were teasing?"
     "The speed at which my words went in one of his ears and out the other indicated a certain lack of interference in between."
     "You saw your words come out of his ear?"
     "Uh, yeah.  I can see thoughts, too, you know.  And every time a thought bubble began to form over his head, it burst before anything coagulated inside."
     "Whatever.  You're weird.  But he's dreamy.  I just want to wrap myself around him and never let him go."
     "Even if he's an airhead?"
     "I think he's perfect."
     Sigh.  "I guess he is, then.  Perfect for you."



For Magpie Tales