The Man in the Moon
Is a round faced buffoon
He would smile sooner
But his demeanour is lunar.
He’s not very bright
Comes out only at night
Needs the sun’s reflection
To enable our detection.
Some thought he was cheese
But oh really please
How could a visage
Just be made of fromage?
It once was said
A cow jumped over his head
But I don’t know why
A cow would jump that high.
Yet seeing him at night
Shining so bright
Gives one great pleasure
A memory to treasure.
But the Man in the Moon
Is gone all too soon
Yet I know now and then
I’ll see him again.
On some dark night
Not a cloud in sight
He’ll be up in the sky
Shining ever so bright.
The fresh round-faced babe wears a teeny ribbon in her hair
Did they attach it with a bit of glue or what?
It is the only indicator she might be a she.
Little girls in Sunday school have ribbons on their socks,
Their collars, the edges of lace on their dresses
Their satin sheen shines up nicely, sprucing them a bit
Boys are not eager to get ribbons unless they are Iowa 4-H boys
Entering their livestock – lambs, calf, sow or steer in a fair
The white green and yellow ribbons do not mean much
But the blue and purple ribbons give them much to smile about
Girls are growing up, entering pageants, wearing a fat vertical ribbon
Saying Miss New Jersey, Corn Queen, or Pancake Princess
Brides dangle ribbons under their bridal bouquet
Ribbons are memories, tucked away in albums,
Brought out to admire when nostalgia prances about.
Dear
round-faced
infant girl,
dressed in a long
white gown as satin
as her skin, tranquilly
lies resting in my arms. With
blue eyes softly shut, she seems to
blissfully slumber, unaware of
how innocently beautiful she is.
*The picture, of course, was Lydia on her blessing day
just a few months old. She is my youngest granddaughter
and just turned five years old after Xmas!
For the Gerber Baby Contest of PD
In my heart there is pain
As I long for my home
Where I know I once walked the yellow grass
Guided by the sky and ~wind spirit~
The crow always at my shoulder
The warmth upon my back
I watched dances for the buffalo
and sang proud for my people
I knew the earth before she was raped
In my eyes are the storms
Of many moons and I am without
Though in dreams she comes to me
A round faced woman and speaks
Of those who have waited just like me
Drifting through time
Until the new sun
My tears hold the story of yearning
The moving within
They who come when I walk through dreams
Know me,know my heart
I have no desire to be of this tongue
My love is for the people I belong with
My love is for all who need it
As the critters
As the Earth
~Great Spirit~ I am your daughter
Make my path the right one
So I may come home
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