Remembering to Music

Early mornings on a ranch 

all started like an avalanche,

A tottering pile of chores to do 

and food to cook and life renew.

All those days began with Dad, 

all freshly cleaned, in robe of plaid,

Standing in your bedroom door, 

to tell you sleeping time was o’er,

The sun was rising, up you’d get, 

the time had come to toil and sweat.

But Sundays always started slow, 

no need to really jump. And go,

One could lay in bed and dream,

               you were in Heaven, it would seem,

Soft music flowed around you there,

               starting low, just like a prayer,

Then rising, swirling, every note,

               by horns and strings would love emote,

One knew that Dad had placed a stack

               of music on the player’s rack,

Cause that’s how Sundays started out,               With soft notes swirling all about.

O’er fifty years have slipped on by,

               all in the blinking of an eye,

But still my childhood lingers on,

               though many who were there are gone,

Cause when I hear those flowing strains,               

               ‘tis Sunday morning, once again.
Photo Credit: Karen of bakinginatornado.comCause Mondays do get knocked a lot,
With poetry, we all besought
To try to make the week begin
With gentle thoughts,
Perhaps a grin?
So  Karen , Charlotte, Mimi, me
Have crafted poems for you to see.
And now you’ve read what we have wrought…
Did we help?
Or did we not?

Next week, something you will crave...Yes, all ‘bout FRUITCAKE, we will rave!



Thinking of joining us for Poetry Monday?We'd love to welcome you!
Topics for the next few weeks (with a huge thank-you to Mimi, who comes up with so many of them!)...
Music (December 20)Today!Fruitcake (December 27)

Sleep (January 3)

Peculiar People (January 10) 

Ditch Your New Year's Resolutions (January 17)

Opposite Day (January 24)

Typo Day (January 31) Celebrate those funny (autocorrect) mistakes.