Love Letter #42: Blue

Gentle soul,
my baby boy; quiet,
quirky, standoffish,
except when I sing.
When you smile,
the skies open
and I am flooded
with a Mother’s love
for her gentle lamb.

Those brown eyes,
they bring me to tears;
sweet freckled face,
sometimes serious,
always loving, caring;
innocence envelops you,
my angel, artist, thinker
in a baseball cap;
our special gift.

You hit the ground running,
bouncing, Bubba,
silly, bundle of joy.
The sound of your voice
leaves chests beating soft,
like your thoughts,
beaming with imagination,
sweet, like your heart.



Love Letter #41:Pink

One sunny day in July,
my eyes counted twenty digits
beaming proud Mommy;
little more than a baby, myself,
but, oh, I did love her
from the very first glance;
timid round, little brown eyes,
those tiny fingers
wrapped around mine.

It was a lovely December morning,
Another raven haired blessing
with pink blushing cheeks;
a gift, a miracle,
wrapped in a pastel blanket
fluttered away with my heart.
A flurry of butterflies, swooned
like musical notes to my ears.

Decades later,
a pretty little blossom
slender, wrapped around me,
Oh, my heart,
– -skipping beats,- –
melting like chocolate
on her face.
Graceful, ballerina;
my sweet, sunshine girl.

and just a year ago,
a tiny new blessing
sashays into this world;
a little wildflower, unique,
beautifully perfect
darling little giggling
blue-eyed angel baby,
blowing kisses

and oh, how I love them.



You are not alone

Working on my book and thought I should share a few thoughts…If you are feeling lost, betrayed, abandoned or alone, I have been there and I can tell you, you are never alone. If you have lost family or friends, God will restore relationships and even bring you new family and friends, and as in my case, he will even bring you someone who loves you unconditionally. Someone who sacrifices their own needs to make you happy; someone who puts you first…someone who makes you laugh when you are in tears…someone who not only accepts you with all of your baggage, but puts it on their back and carries it with you. So, if you are looking around and see no one, it is an illusion because if you see only one set of footsteps, they aren’t yours…..I love you all …. and I am not the only one… ❤


Broken Flowers

There was a whole field
of lavender, waiting
when my bare feet tiptoed out,
careful not to slam the screen door,
careful not to cry.

It was kissed all better
at grandma’s
after a cup of hot chocolate
and bedtime prayers
upon grandpa’s lap,
peacefully sleeping;

sugarplums were only secrets
rolled and kneaded into poetry,
softly dancing in my head,

and oh, those wildflowers
did make me smile:

~he loves me, he loves me not~

pure heart,
delicate as those petals,
fingers entwined
in little girl wishes
upon a star

to the one
who always loved me.



An Unkind Day in February (for Grandpa)

I was the sparkle in your eye;
the inflection in your greeting
when I skipped into the room.

When a cardinal meets my gaze
or crickets hum me to sleep,
I know you’re still near
breathing life
into my atmosphere,
calming fears with a gentle touch
and a smiling voice, Oh God
how I could use one of those hugs now.

You dried little tears
and made problems seem small
with the knowing of your hand
upon my shoulder.

Let’s connect dotted stars and dwell
inside my sweet dreams
until we meet again.

Today, on the anniversary of your death,
Grandpa… I miss you….I love you… R.I.P. until we meet again.

Emil Albert Schiffers
Sept. 18.1893 – Feb. 23, 1977


Discontinued Pattern

Some nights, I sit back and wonder
If I am doing all of this just to prove you wrong:

waking up at 2 and 3:00am
to jot down thoughts,
roll adjectives off the tongue of my pronouns,

create symmetry between the lines
of these rumpled love letters;

an alliteration of slender syllables.

Would it ever be good enough
for your discriminative eye,
or would I be that one cup with a crack-
and the handle missing
in your cabinet of fine china?



Grandpa’s Knee

Ever had one of those days
when you just wanted to sit on grandpa’s knee
where it was always safe
and listen to the same stories over and over
until you fall asleep curled up in his soft smile?

I can still taste the peaches and ice cream we shared
in the screened porch watching birds play
(me in pigtails and a red dress with a bow,
he in that plaid shirt and corduroys
he always wore on the weekends.)

I remember crying when his hair turned gray

like I do every time I remember
that I never got to tell him goodbye.

Just when I start to dwell on the fact
that he isn’t here to dry my tears anymore,
that same red cardinal taps on the window
at 8:00 AM sharp

singing ballads to make me smile.