The Room

The aroma of fresh baked banana bread tickles the nose when the door is opened, immediately giving the visitor a feeling of "coming home." The curtains are open, bathing the room in sunlight and cheer.

An overstuffed chair, covered in a rose floral print, invites one to sit down. The bookcase, within reach of the chair offers a variety of choices, from Shakespeare to Steinbeck; Freud to Bombeck; math textbooks and health encyclopedias. The bottom shelf is flattered to hold such titles are Hop on Pop, Green Eggs and Ham, The Apple Vendor, and Grimm's Fairy Tales, as well as dozens of other books for the "little ones," all of which are obviously well read. The table beside the chair holds a pair of wire-rimmed glasses, and a Bible, whose corners have become dog-eared over the ages. Hand made doilies cover all the tables and shelves, offering beauty as well as protection to the furniture.

An upright piano, with the music for "Count Your Blessings" sits open, inviting anyone who wants, to test their musical talent. Years of frequent polishing makes the wood glisten in the sunlight.

A cherubic face peeks at you from the top of the piano, smiling with that impish grin that only a three-year-old can get away with. Her face is just one of many in the assorted picture frames who look out over the room. An old black and white photo of a young serviceman, proudly wearing his dress uniform, sits prominently in the center. The same young man is a smiling groom in another one. Children, adults, families fill the other frames. The same blonde hair and blue eyes, the upturn of the nose, and the crooked smile reveal a family resemblance.

A china hutch holds a collection of hand painted plates, knick-knacks, figurines and a small, lopsided bowl, with "Bobby - 1963" etched into the clay in childish letters. Fresh cut flowers from the garden sit on the dining room table, adding their magnificent fragrance and colors of the room. Rose colored cloth napkins sit in their freshly polished silver napkin rings, waiting for the next meal. In the corner, the tea-cart sits with its floral teapot and matching creamer, sugar bowl, cups and saucers. A basket of assorted cookies and crackers waits for "tea time."

Clear glass candy bowls shout at visitors, begging one to "sneak" a sweet. Hershey's kisses, peppermint and butterscotch candies, and M & M's all have their own containers, within reach of anyone old enough to eat them.

The empty room sings, "Welcome, everyone, I am so glad you came." Love shines in the woodwork, the sunshine, and the aroma of flowers . . .  and baking.

Brandy's Birth Day

As pain wracked my body, I smiled:
"It hurts so good!" I said out loud.
I took a deep breath as the delightful pain spread its sweet agony through me

Time seemed to stand still when it hit,
unless I smiled or laughed

The nurse just stared, while the other nurses whispered.
They knew that my reaction was probably hysteria
"We can give you something for the pain, you know."

"No (deep breath) I'm fine, really. Isn't this great? It's almost over!"
The nurse calmly hurried out of the room
She returned with a composed, though confused doctor on her heels

"Are you alright? You know, I'm not used to my patients laughing at this stage
It's pleasantly disturbing, you know"
I grimace as a laugh. "Is it time?"  "It's time"

The room quietly hums with anticipation, peaceful music fills the air
The lights are dimmed as if the final scene was fading out.
The stillness is interrupted by a final cry of pain. . . . . 

Then . . .

"It's a girl!"

Contradictions

I had a feeling of guilty,
but no one to apologize to

I had a feeling of despair,
and no shoulder to cry on

I had a feeling of emptiness
and nothing to fill it

I had luxury,
but no pleasure

I had Paradise,
but no Happiness

I had sensuality,
yet no desire

I was a master,
 but had no slaves

I was a teacher,
but had to students

I was a commander,
but had no soldiers

The Way to Laugh

This is the way to laugh,
when you've been betrayed by the man you trusted
and you have to go on.

This is the way to laugh,
when your heart is breaking,
and you know that is't over.

This is the way to laugh,
when you're scared
and you don't know what tomorrow holds

This is the way to laugh,
when contractions are only 30 seconds apart,
but you know a child is about to be born.

This is the way to laugh,
because you know you have the strength to survive
and through faith, you're not alone

My Body

My body, the slave
forced to go where I say
with scarcely a whisper;
forced to do what I want
with an occasional grunt
No say in its meals
Worked to exhaustion,
long hours, no rest

My body, my friend
together since birth
inseparable companions
Forever sharing dreams,
plans, joys, and sorrows
Taken for granted,
with needs forgotten

My body, my home
Windows look out at the world
but reveal little of what is inside
Shutters that close when fatigue sets in
to help me unwind
Circuits sometimes overloaded
Doors that can shut one out,
our open wide

There is Passion in this Anger

There is a passion in this anger,
There is a rage,
a boiling of the blood
a loss of control
a selfishness that grows
     a litany of unkind words
     pain of resentment
In a shout of hatred
the exasperation builds

There is a precipitous cliff in my life,
a threadbare cord
leading to darkness,
the stupidity of temper
I have frequently known
since sibling rivalry began
at home as a child.
There is a senselessness from zero to nowhere
and there is a stumbling
from no place to nowhere
A journey from impatience to displeasure
where the heart roams forever

There is an answer,
if only I choose to follow
for myself and others
the road of self control
the choice of forgiveness
regardless of pain
There is a midground
where we all can meet
in this world so unfair;
in which we can disagree and yet still be allies

O there is this dark side of me
where old hurts fester
where indignation still burns
where fury still fuels flames,
and I stand alone