Love's Hide-n-Seek

(For Danielle and her Children)


Twins

Love come softly, Love come hard-
Love's hide-n-seek now plays in our yard.
Once she was alone dreaming of a home,
Cut short -now are her dreams-
As beside her babies scream.
From love she found a man who treats her nice
And angels sent from God not once, but twice.
Baby boy and baby girl keeps Mama in a whirl!
Love's come softly, Love's come hard,
Now Steeley and Lyla play in our backyard...

Tower in the Sky

In Dover, NH there is a secret hiding place for Garrison Hill Tower that reaches into the sky.
We happened upon its green, metal frame, climbed the several stories of stairs, and took a rest up in the blueness of the summer sky.
Our little niece of six who accompanied us on our adventerous hike, with great excitment said, "Auntie Lisa, Let me take your picture!" Eager hands held the camera up to sparkling, blue eyes, "I almost have it! Hold on one more minute."
So she did, and here it is, and tho' she cut off our heads, the memory will live forever of when we climed our tower in the sky.

BIRCH TREES: OPTIMISTICALLY FRESH

Of all the trees on the land
I love birch the best.
They stand majestic, poised,
and optimistically fresh.
In a field or in the woods
withstanding nature's test.
Birch trunks shine in the sun
casting a flashy, warm glow.
Branches dance in the air,
leaves flutter in the wind, and so,
Of all the trees on the land
I love birch the best.

Ghosts of Honor!

I am a Patriot!
I was a Soldier!
I march in Formation with RED, WHITE & BLUE!

I am a crier when the National Anthem plays,
I stand tall and proud when troops pass my way.

I am a Patriot!
I was a Soldier!
I march in hometown Memorial Day Parades right up in the front with Vets, both old and new.

I am the 'Ghost of Honor' amid my living comrades. Beside me, other ghosts march...our spirits strut from prideful recognition.

We are Patriots! We are Soldiers. We are Ghosts of Honor!

Bridge the Heavenly Gap

The gap in this life to the next was bridged in the wee hours of morning the day my old friend passed...passed from this life to the one beyond...over the rainbow to the heavens, where the promise of 'being without pain' would now bring comfort...a freedom to move now, since he is no longer paralyzed...floating now on his cloud in the sky where he can stroke his favoured guitar and sing angelic folk songs...that will float down and comfort those left behind...melodies that bring comfort and cheer and allow the living to bridge the gap between this life and the next...sing well, Doug...we are still listening...waiting...remembering...holding our breath...until next we meet...

Blogging is Like Keeping a Diary

Blogging is like keeping a diary for yourself (that you want the whole world to read).

So as I write, read my secrets that with the world I wish to share.

If you dare, share a secret comment with me (and the whole world who is secretly reading.)

...I recently realized that as a child I didn't feel I had a trustworthy outlet for feelings. Instead, I put words to paper, as though writing my feelings would be just as good as speaking my feelings.

Know what? I was right. I even think writing my feelings is BETTER.

My paper and pen & computer keyboard are not judgemental. They don't give me that look like, "Come on Lisa, what are you talking about?"

They just let me speak and go on and on...they love it when I stroke and poke them and come up with some insightful revelation or mediocre tidbit. They really like it when I type my romance novels and stroke and poke for hours on end...pausing only to consider the music playing in the background and see if I can work it into my story.

Today, my friendly sister said "You probably became a writer because you felt more comfortable writing things than saying them out loud." Yes, Sis, you hit the bulls eye! You know me so well and are a wonderful Sis and friend!!! (Too bad we kept fighting each other in childhood. We wasted a lot of good years...)

Cuter and Sassier

How much more cute can a little girl be? Cute since birth and all the way through until now.

Cuter and sassier as each day begins, progresses, and ends. Overnight her 'cute' hormones kick in and she is smarter and wiser upon waking!

The day she was born cute emerged...

"I Love You Ocean, I Love You Roses, too!"

Inland temperature soars like birds toward sun,


I long to play, tho' in the heat there is no fun.


One place known never fails to fulfill my quest,


A place compared to no other - surely nature's best.


Imagine smooth-paved-path that contours the sea,


Adorned with sweet smelling roses - an occasional bumble bee.





Marginal Way in Perkins Cove, Maine is so exceptionally nice,


On this early-June day rose-fragrance mimics sweet-imported-spice.


To the left a gaze at sparkling sea beyond the shore,


Down this path I trod - my senses now explore.


Whitecaps on the ocean dance - sparkle in the sun,


Excited by the tide I jump and skip and run.






Toward shore whitecaps roll-and-creep,


While overhead the screech of gulls deep.


On the beach waves rolls in-and-out,


While on the path I skip and smell and shout.


"I love you ocean, I love you roses, too!"


One holding my hand says, "Always I love you."



(Note: This photo was actually taken in Mexico)

Snippets of Memories

In 1980, my name was called at graduation commencement. Proudly, I walked to the podium to claim my high school diploma from CBNA. It was solely to myself that I owed all the credit of my success. No one had achieved it, but me. With it I was free to begin my new life in the service of my country, ready to leave for basic training just five days from that night.

Snippets of memories flash through my brain as I attempt to recall every detail of graduation night and the years that came before that. Speeches by classmates smarter than me. Our school colors of red and white and anxious eighteen-year-olds eager to get on with life. A sunburned face from a day at the beach a few days before, and the saying goodbye forever to many friends as we raced out our Alma Mater's door. Snippets are all I get...too much time has passed to recall in great detail a chapter so trying for me. Yet snippets are enough to create the illusion of paradise.

Many old friends dance in my head. Their facial features softened with time yet their eyes still dancing with life. One friend used to yell, 'Pizza!' every time someone shot the basketball, in her attempts to make them miss. A few young boys used to tease me, and I liked it, but didn't have the wherewithal to do anything about it. Only a couple attempts at young love ever got off the ground in my high school career. They all ended there. Now, they are part of hazy memories.

To my schoolmates I tip my hat and say thank you. Thanks for treating me well and sharing a secret or two. I wish I had shared mine with you. I wish you had asked...

Snippets of memories are all I need to revisit old friends who knock on my computer's door. I knew their hearts back then in our 'innocent days.' To know of their hearts makes reestablishing friendships easy. If I trusted you back then...I trust you now...it is the law of friendship. If I loved you then there is still a beat in my heart skipping for you.

Some friends come into our lives and are meant to stay for a short time, while others stay longer. It is not the length of time that determines the greatness of a friend, it is the quality. Come, quality, and be my friend.

If you are an old friend of mine...thank you. Please be in touch and help make my snippet of memory burst through the haze and be forever focused. Hazy is overrated!

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

On my bike I rode as reality faded and dreamland emerged. Come, sit on my shoulder and enjoy the ride with me...

With the wind in my hair - I rode as free as a seagull in flight. Down the bike path I followed my companion, who also rode his new bike. To ride on the paved, smooth path was a freedom a long time in coming. Years have passed since I rode a bicycle like that...having no destination, just enjoying the flow of the air that raced passed by my ears and made love to my face.

From the bike path we broke free and joined the rest of the world at the seaside. Glistening glitter sparkled on the waves as the ebb and flow of the tide danced. Seagulls called out in greeting 'Screech, screech!'. Motorist's gazes gleaned of jealousy. As the sun beat down and tanned my skin I felt the excitement of a late-spring day that would soon be transferred to a beautiful memory.

With the wind in my hair - I flew as free as a seagull in flight... Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!