WEB SONG

She wove herself a pretty web
So evil and precise,
With only one thing to pursue
It was everything but nice.

She stood in wait... As they came
Unknowing,
One by one.
Enchanted by the silkiness
Her web song had begun.

She sang her tune
Heard near and far,
A haunting mystique it told.
Entranced they approached
Unbeknown to them
Misfortune would unfold.

She drew them near and
Held them tight,
Glared them in the eye.
Eyes stared back with
Panic and fear,
For defenselessly,
They'd die.

 She pierced them all with helplessness,
Without a qualm or care.
She then began her teadious task,
Entwining them with silky hair.

 All neatly wrapped in an envelope
She spun them neat and tight.
She anticipated the next day to come
For she devoured them,
To her delight.

She weaves herself a pretty web
So evil and precise.
Before you come to visit her,
Perhaps.....you should think twice.

FLASH

Your face flashed before me today,
Your memory took my breath away.
You were so young and full of glee,
A wonderful friend to many you see.

Your golden curls and waves galore
But, you consisted of so much more.
Your inner beauty was pure grace,
That beautiful smile upon your face.

Kindness always came from you,
Delightful and honest through and through.
You always gave your very best,
Nothing more, nothing less.

You taught us much while you were here,
And though you're gone, you are, still near.
So close and dear to our heart,
It hurt so much when you did part.

It's oh so true, the best He takes,
We carry on, with the ache.
We're grateful for the time we had
For this, I am so truly glad.

An angel now, that you are
Gracing the heavens as a star.
So until we do meet again,

Forever, and always,
You'll be my friend.

In memory of
Cyndi Renae' Cloutier
July 27, 1988 - September 21, 2001

HE

His face,
Forever frozen in my mind.
His smile,
Embedded in my heart.
His voice,
A melody to my ear.
His touch,
A tender caress.
His eyes,
Aglow amorously at me.
His manner,
Of refined gentleness.
His inner being,
Pure and sincere.

He,
Has captivated me.


Dedicated to my husband Donald, who has been a constant in my life, as a beau, husband, friend, confidant, hero, teacher, father to my children.
Happy Father's Day ♥

Decided to at least post a sketch today. Inspired by watching Mark Kistler's Imagination Station on PBS. I find I'm really drawn to sketching in black & white, maybe it's the uncertainty of the end result with color, and the thought I won't like it as well?

I'm trying to be more attentive to myself and my creativity, (it's not working) it is so difficult to find time for just me and what I want to do and what I need to do. It's easy to say "just take/make the time", that doesn't seem to happen here. The life of a woman, wife, mother, worker, grandmother, where does she find time for just herself with all these roles and needs to fulfill.

In closing I want to say thanks to all of you who follow my blog, I appreciate all your comments. I'm still learning the ins and outs of this blogging, be patient with me. My daughter, Sara, was the one who took care of getting me set up on here, she is a busy young lady herself, but always has the time to answer my endless questions. Till next time.

KEEPER OF MY HEART

Would you consider yourself worthy,

To be the Keeper of my Heart?

I desire a passionate companion to be,

The Keeper of my Heart.

My gentle heart is fragile,

It needs much love and care.

Keeper of my Heart,

Will be faithful, always there.

The Keeper of my Heart,

Must be noble, likewise true,

Loyal to the death.

I'll ask nought for more,

Consent to nothing less.

Keeper of my Heart,

Shall give their very best.

The Keeper of my Heart,

Will mourn me when I'm gone,

And I will sing his praises,

In a lonely, haunting song.

Keeper of my Heart,

Will never be set free.

He's been my Knight in armour,

He'll know not what to be.

He'll wander aimlessly lost,

Like a ship out in the sea,

Until his restless soul,

Is reunited back with me.

Would you consider yourself worthy,

To be,

The Keeper of my Heart?

DEATH

He comes like a thief, in the night,

Robbing you of life itself.

Without a thought,

Or consciousness,

His ugly face is shown.

He shows no preference,

Of any kind,

To him, they're all the same.

Any gender, race or age,

He just picks the day.

He leaves the rest,

With emptiness,

Aches that never cease.

He contemplates who is next,

He has to fill his need.

We sit and wait, for we know

Our time is sure to come.

He has your name,

He knows your move,

There is no where to run.

So live each day as your last,

For this could be so true.

He lurks in silence,

In the dark,

Just waiting to call on you.

CLASSIC, CHAOTIC, CLASSROOM

Teachers were teaching tragically, while the students felt trapped in transparent torture.

It was a continuous, constant, state of confusion,

As they furled their furious frustrations aloud.

Infurating me with ironic, inconsiderate, inconsistencies.

Eagerly, I awaited for an early end, and the empowering bell to emit its escaping echo.

MY GIRLS

My daughters have been my joy, my life,
Without them; I just couldn't conceive.
The countless memories we have made,
Some you wouldn't believe.

They're each unique in their own way,
With likes and styles of their own.
The only thing we all have in common,
Is together, we make up our home.

Anna Rose, the first of four,
Compassionate and so true.
She has her first daughter, Chloe,
Without them, life would be blue.

Elizabeth, was number two,
Fearless and spirit free.
Mom to Grahm, our first grandson,
Both mean the world to me.

Kimberly, was third to arrive,
An artist, who loves to create.
She recently was married,
To her love and high school mate.

Sara, our fourth and our last,
So full of words and sweet.
Continually writing to her hearts content,
With her, our families complete.

I've been so blessed with these children of mine,
They've brought me such joy and love.
I can't imagine a day without them,
They're truly God's gift from above.



To my precious daughters,
whom I love and adore.

Anna Rose
Elizabeth Irene
Kimberly Dee
Sara Donelle

ON THE OUTSIDE

Always, on the outside,

Always, looking in.

Always, afraid to show herself,

For fear,

They'd see her sin.

Unable, to let herself

Be set free,

Unable, to tell us why.

Caught inside her world,

Her mind,

It wasn't that she's shy.

She didn't think,

They'd understand,

Perhaps, they never will.

Laughter,

Never once was heard,

She always was so still.

We only knew,

She had herself,

Silence,

Her only friend.

On the outside,

Looking in.

No beginning and,

No end.

Full Phase

Magically, he rises,
So big and
Full of light.
Ironically,
Mother Earth is asleep,
Filled with dark of night.

He peeks his large face,
Up over tree tops,
Casting his luminous glow.
It's always such a mystery,
The evenings celestial show.

With wonder I watch
As he continues his flight,
Up, to his evening place,
He does this slowly, meticulously,
Completely, with poise and grace.

I stand there amazed,
As I gaze to the sky,
Taking in all that I see,
I bid him farewell for the night, and
Give thanks for the tranquility.