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.