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Ruth Van Alstine Poem
Rough and tumble
Playing tricks and having fun
Picking on pig-tailed girls while
Tromping through the snow.
Boys are like that, yes they are,
Full of vinegar and mischief too.
Climbing trees and falling down
On unsuspecting human beings.
Picking green apples all day long
To munch until their bellies cry,
Rolling in the dirt with laughter while
Finding bugs to chase the girly-girls.
Rough and tumble they may be,
But when harvested men full grown;
Brothers are loving, loyal and protective
Turned into strong good men through and through.
Previously Published: Shattered Moonbeams 2016
Copyright © Ruth Van Alstine | Year Posted 2019
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Ruth Van Alstine Poem
You sit and stare
upon your dish,
no strength to bear
even as I wish.
For you to live
forever strong
were mine to give
your life prolong.
But being neither
here nor there
Death comes hither
So be prepared.
Previously Published: Shattered Moonbeams 2016
Copyright © Ruth Van Alstine | Year Posted 2019
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Ruth Van Alstine Poem
Fall is here again with the
Saturday morning routine of paper and coffee.
A chance to sit and breathe,
halfway there....
Remembrances come unbidden
of mother lying on a hospital bed,
my father and I each holding a hand,
feeling the thinning pulse
as her life slipped away.
The funeral of Amazing Grace,
(her husband not there,
too broken of body and heart)
watched by empty children.
Fall is here again, remembrances unintended
of father lying down one final time
to force his broken heart to stop,
struggling, until finally
that last breath escaped his lips.
The funeral of ending rites,
his goal achieved
lying next to his wife,
watched by empty children,
Both parents gone.
Fall is here again bringing with it images,
unasked for memories of the loss.
I navigate this haunting realm,
and meet them halfway there........
Previously Published: Shattered Moonbeams 2016
Copyright © Ruth Van Alstine | Year Posted 2019
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Ruth Van Alstine Poem
I remember
a stubbly cheek prickling my lips,
a strong hand holding me protectively when I was small.
I remember
a spanking for eating mud pies,
hearing stories of when he was young
lying in the grass under the stars.
I remember
strong arms wrapped about
my trembling body, rescuing me.
I remember
a strong, wise, quiet guide
always there when I needed him.
I remember
my father.
Previously Published: Shattered Moonbeams 2016
Copyright © Ruth Van Alstine | Year Posted 2019
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Ruth Van Alstine Poem
Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust
my tears can not come, but I know they must.
Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust,
of my father, speak this I must.
Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust,
sad memories to put away, I must.
For ashes to ashes, and dust to dust,
wisdom shall come, in this we must trust.
Previously Published: Shattered Moonbeams 2016
Copyright © Ruth Van Alstine | Year Posted 2019
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Ruth Van Alstine Poem
She sits in the moonlight
and weaves her dreams
of life ideal and happy things.
Then, picks herself up
and slowly walks
back to reality.
Previously Published: Shattered Moonbeams 2016
Copyright © Ruth Van Alstine | Year Posted 2019
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Ruth Van Alstine Poem
I thank my parents
for the heart I possess,
that willingness to trust and be open,
belief in the goodness of others.
However sometimes misplaced.
For the powerful demand of
independence in body and soul.
They raised me like that.
An up and down blessing.
For the ingenuity and creativity
that runs in my veins,
the ability to make a needed item
from whatever lies about.
Essential to survival when times are lean.
My heart swells with gratitude
for all they gave me,
and the loss of them creates a craving
for their companionship once more.
The good and bad of it.
They are gone, have been for a while,
But gratitude and thanks I extend.
They gave me life and a way to live it,
a precious gift indeed.
Previously Published: Shattered Moonbeams 2016
Copyright © Ruth Van Alstine | Year Posted 2019
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Ruth Van Alstine Poem
Out in the garden she loved to go,
in early springtime many years ago.
Her mother's favorites dripping with dew
lightly scented drops of water flew
as we picked the branches two by two,
in the early morning hours,
just me and you.
Previously Published: Shattered Moonbeams 2016
Copyright © Ruth Van Alstine | Year Posted 2019
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Ruth Van Alstine Poem
I sit in the darkness
now and then
in mind a weariness
at soul again.
And in the blackness
do pray amen
to find some happiness
in the world of men.
Previously Published: Shattered Moonbeams 2016
Copyright © Ruth Van Alstine | Year Posted 2019
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Details |
Ruth Van Alstine Poem
In dream-time does my father wait,
each morning between asleep and awake.
Memories to stir till dawn does break,
to comfort and hold as my heart aches.
Previously Published: Shattered Moonbeams 2016
Copyright © Ruth Van Alstine | Year Posted 2019
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