Rainfall is a beautiful sound. Lovely on a Saturday afternoon!
bleed into blue; the sun creeps
down, down, behind the lace arbor
scrim sundered, dreams in wait
Day Two – September Poems featuring the Pensee.*
*The Pensee – A syllabic form. No meter specified. No rhyme. Syllabic count 2-4-7-8-6:
line 1 is the subject;
line 2 gives description;
line 3, action;
line 4, the setting;
line 5, final thought.
too many links on this tree fade, obscure
with nary a flicker of those who’ve gone before
the only living proof of their existence,
their progeny, who share their dna, who’ll likewise
live and die, no answer for the age-old question…”why?”
I have a few old family photos of some people I’ve never met, and of my grandparents gone too soon, before I could learn their stories. They are treasures of my past. I suppose that I why I write…to leave something behind for my grandkids.
The people shown above are a part of me. And so life goes on.
Top Left: My Grandpa Lambert Myrman, my Grandma Florence, née O’Malley, my Aunt Dolly holding my cousin Kristy, her husband Dean in back and his parents on the right.
Top Middle: My great-greats the Johansson’s and my Great Grandma Hanna (the youngest)
Top Right: my Great Grandparents, Peter O’Malley and Annie, née Powers
Middle Left: My Grandpa William Cunningham and my Grandma Mary, née Sluka
Middle Right: Grandma Mary’s graduation picture. She’s in the middle row, far right.
Lower Left: Grandma Florence O’Malley Myrman
Lower Middle: Grandma Mary (r) with my mom (girl with black skirt), her brother, Richard and sister, Sylvia
Lower Right: Grandma Mary holding my Mom, Dorothy
sweeps the strand
reclaiming beached remnants
of cockles and shell shards; the sea