All posts filed under: Poetry

Unplug

Published by

Went out for a walk,  ran into you. Wanted to talk, but you had so much to do. Staring at your screen, staring down as you walked. More important than me was that screen, so I walked. I walked alone and I waved so long to you. You, with more important things to do. Like texting, or Facebook, or surfing the web, from your hand held device, or iPhone instead. Instead of looking up, at the world all around you, You chose your electronics, your wifi, to surround you. I’m no better than you, rest assured. As I point one finger at you, there is not a first, nor a second, but a third. A third digit pointing right back at me. I have counted them, yes, there are three. That’s three times I can guarantee. At least three times I have been guilty of the same damn thing. Ignoring my loved ones as they have tried to connect. But I had too much to do. Too many friends to request, too many pictures to …

The Farmer’s Gift to Me

Published by

            Beans are beautiful even in the fall. When the sky is crisp and blue When the beans have dried inside their shells to a warm and tannish, hue. Those beans are lovely, they provide so much, soft and fuzzy their shells to touch. I am rambling, this I know, but to these beans, so much I owe. Gratitude for family who comes together. Each fall, each October or September. To watch the harvest is such a treat, to see my brothers, my whole family. We come together, we share a day or two, to watch the beans and tractors brew, that earthly concoction of chaff and seed. The dust it drives us all to sneeze. But with that dust, we all receive another gift.. Those Iowa sunsets, so colorful, from the drift, of all that dust those combines made, So many colors in so many shades of orange, gold, purples and pinks, Our sky is painted with earthly inks. Ramblings, by Marie Stephens  Copyright 2013

My Cup Runs Over

Published by

My Cup Runs Over written by Marie Stephens Copyright 2013 All Rights Reserved Sometimes I feel like I’ll never fit in. Like no one around me wants me to win. To win at this life where I have been placed. To conquer the challenges I have faced. And then I remember, the Lord God Almighty Has chosen ME ever so wisely To be His child, Entrusted with gifts Gifts that only I can give. What are my gifts? I’m not quite sure yet So I act like myself, I try doing my best At whatever it is to be thrown my way: Different Things, Different people, Different events each day. I just act like myself. I do what I can. I take one step at a time, Knowing God is my biggest fan. Sometimes I stumble. Sometimes I fall. Sometimes I crumble. And then I must call. Call on the Lord To please pick me up. When my heart is left empty, To please fill my cup. Then my cup runs over. My cup overflows, …

Work

Published by

Work Always behind Never caught up The more work you get done. The more work you make up. Weeding Planting Staking Baking Picking Pinching Seeding Raking Where did the time go? Where was it spent? Tree leaves are falling On my cement. Zinnias are gorgeous. Morning Glories are glorious One Glory survived, Now we’re victorious! The one that survived and beat all the odds: Vine chewing rabbits Seed eating birds Sprout stomping dogs My childrens’ feet Not one of these were able to defeat. Could not defeat this defiant Morning Glory This lovely blue flower That gives me satisfaction and power. The power to see That all this work: The planting The waiting The rejuvenating The digging The pinching The pruning The trimming Replanting Reseeding Removing Repeating That all this work is never done. That all this work can be quite fun That all this work makes life more grand Without it my yard would be quite bland Without it I would lack for stories For stories of Morning Glories who fought to survive The …

My Mommy Flicked a Beetle

Published by

My Mommy Flicked a Beetle Original Poetry by Marie Stephens My mommy flung a beetle. She flicked it far away. He never saw her coming, On this sunny day. My mommy flicked a beetle. Tonight I’ll tell my dad. That beetle never stood a chance; I bet he’s feeling sad. My mommy flicked a beetle. She flung it to next week! I think it flew up over my house And landed in the creek! This poem spawned from bubbles in the driveway with my 3 year old, Ben.  We were blowing bubbles, and along came a little black beetle.  He was getting a bit too close, so without warning, I flicked him with my finger.  Evidently, it made an impression on Ben, because, an hour later during lunch,  he was still talking about how he was gonna tell dad that his mommy flicked a beetle!  So our lunch conversation revolved around that little black beetle, with me jotting this poem on the back of an old envelope.  My hubs helped me finish the last line …