Williams Gift

I always knew what I wanted to be. 

I think I knew it before I was three.

An aspiration not typical at all 

To a foreordained mission I was called.

I practiced with any chance that I could see

To rock and sing and nurse someone in need

I watched and carefully observed

The attributes I saw from those who served.

I was surprised that I felt so unworthy

when the doctor finally handed him to me

I had prepared but never quite understood

The precious charge that now before me stood.

In that moment life forever changed for me

I now saw Motherhood as a sacred duty.

A trust to teach him of gods eternal plan

And how great is the worth of the soul of a man

A destiny of worth and nobility.

A path that leads towards charity

To give your life, your energy and time

For someone else whom you know is Divine

Cinnamon's July

Nobility in Motherhood

There is a queen who wears a crown that shines;

Its jewels are sparkles in her children's eyes.

Her shoes were made to walk a thousand roads

To see her sons and daughters safely home.

Her robes were woven each day thread on thread

With acts of love and service as she lead.

Her fingers glitter with a diamond spray

Made from the glint of tears she's wiped away.

Her throat bears a cascade of priceless worth

Made of the times she heard her children's mirth.

Her left hand holds a book of truths she's lived

And taught and hopes her children honor give.           

Her right hand wields a sword to fight the dark

Lest demons on her loved ones make a mark.

Her countenance shines with a strength within

Born of the knowledge that with Christ she'll win.

At her side there is a king who is the One.       

He is her love, hero and paladin.

To be this woman's where my heart is bent,

To wear those robes, her gems, my ornament.

July's topic, (Dianne)

Nobility in motherhood,
Joy in womanhood

From the Relief Society theme.

Ode to the Sun

The sun shines so majestically

So glorious and bright

It's a testament to god

A creation to delight

On a cold winter day 

My sunny window beckons

My chair and a good book

Impossible to improve on...

Then springtime comes 

And I can hardly describe the glee

The sun feels like magic

When it thaws the winter freeze

But then why oh why 

Do we have to endure the stare 

from the summers unending 

Terrible and torturous glare

But every October 

The leaves turn to yellow

And we thank the sun

That its heat finally mellowed 

One season of the year

That's all that we ask

To calm that heat that comes

With summers hot blast

By Bonnie Walker

I'm following Cinnamon's Majestic Creation :)

Camping

Prepare

Clean and pack and work and sweat

Drive and shop but not there yet

Ascend too quickly at end of the day

Steep narrow switchbacks and frightening way

Arrive

The pines so amazingly thick and so high

Towers of evergreens tickling the sky

The scent is a rapture of familiar joy.

A timeless memory when you were a boy

Camp

The Flies and mosquitoes, the  smoke and  the dirt

Black dirty smudges on each childs shirt

Outhouses distant and gross and so smelly

Junkfood and fried food to mess up your belly

Adventures

The ATVs creaking on hazardous turns

The dust in your nose and your eyes always burns

The drop-offs petrify all of your senses

Your body is beatup and bruised no pretenses

Trailer

You sweep up each morning and cannot believe

How much dirt and wrappers that little ones leave

The showers too narrow, the beds in the corner

Reading by flashlight to the buzz of the hornet

Meals

You always examine your drink for a bee

And blow the ashes from your eggs jubilee

Smashed PBJs and crumbly chips

Each dusty licorice strip growing your hips

Games

Skip Bo, phase 10, speed game of dice

Yatzee, and pinochle, Scum more than twice

Hula Hoop contests and games in the night

Scary tales told by the dim firelight

Memories

Sticky burnt Marshmellows, dogs on a stick

Fishing at daylight, with worms that you’ve digged

Napping at noon in your favorite camp chair

Hanging with loved ones you hold so dear

Planning

Camping is costy and takes so much effort

Next year perhaps we will skip this adventure

But don’t ask the kids when its all said and done

They’ll want to go camping, its too darn much fun.

Cinnamon's June Poem

So, an ode is supposed to be in praise of something. I was totally planning on writing something profound and majestic. That's not exactly how it turned out...

A BREAK-UP ODE TO A FERAL TOMCAT

You showed up one day looking hungry

And hot and thirsty to boot. 

I gave you some water,

You became a squatter,

And all 'cause I thought you were cute. 

You rub up against my ankles,

Like you have some claim on my heart. 

I may overrate you

And try not to hate you

But only when we are apart. 

When I'm in the garden you stalk me.

You pounce on me under the trees

I try to act cool

But you're playing the fool

And your dander is making me sneeze.

You fight every night for my glory.

Machismo echoes through the air.

Would you still do it                           

And put yourself throughout it            

If you knew that I really don't care?

Somehow you've mistaken my kindness

For affection and fidelity.

So it's time that you know,

When we first said hello,

I thought that you were a she.

I trip over you when I go out.

Your hair's my new accessory.

How do I tell you, 

I wish I could sell you

When I know that there's no one but me?

I'm leaving you, cat.  It's over.

I won't bother saying goodbye.

Even if I said it, 

I don't think you'd get it,

And you might expect me to cry. 

So go find another softie.

There are many, I hear, in Quebec.

No regrets and no tears,

Your yowl hurts my ears.

Just don't be here when I get back. 

Topic for June, 2013

Another Summer, another opportunity to use those long days to be creative.
June's topic:  An Ode to something in nature.

On Electronics
   By Dianne

“Dance, Aga, dance!”

The tunes from the TV ad

Awaken her little spirit,

As I hang Grandpa’s shirts

And ‘get down’ for Hillary

“I pay iPad?” her request

For the umpteenth time today.

Tiny fingers, barely an inch and a half long

Flit across the screen

Competently opening and closing

Programs until she finds her choice

and she sings “Twinkle, twinkle”

in her exquisite baby voice

along with her iPad.

Another ad comes on TV and she

Motions to the remote, expecting

Me to fast forward to her program.

She totters into the kitchen and

Opens the freezer and drags

Out the bag of chicken nuggets,

Jabbering and pointing to the microwave.

Two and a half minutes later

she is dipping her favorite lunch

In ketchup while she watches

Dora solve problems on TV.

Cinnamon's August

As Shakespeare said, in words that ring:
I wouldn't exchange my place with kings,
For they lived in castles with cold walls of stone.
They wore heavy crowns and sat on hard thrones.
All of these things are completely annoying
When you live in the world that I've been enjoying.

If you want light, I've got it.  Hot water?  That too.
In sumer, my house stays at 72.
The laundry and dishes clean all by themselves.
Any fruit any season, is stored on my shelves.
If you think that is something, well, it's just a start.
Forthcoming is the most amazing part...

I can talk to my mother, face to face,
While she's in an entirely different place.
I never turn wrong when I travel by car.
I can tell you the name and the place of each star.

Whenever I write, it is with perfect spelling.
My grammar is flawless, my quotations telling.
And if that doesn't make your impressometer hum,
I do it all using only my thumbs.
And then just because I'm such a tease,
I'll translate it instantly into Chinese.

I can make all my photographs perfect and polished,
Add graphics and captions, make my subject more tallish,
Then send it to each one in my family,
And it takes, in seconds, about 73.

When it comes to the body, I don't like to gloat,
But I've become a triathlete using just my remote.
And if yours is in pain, or it smells like King Kong,
I'll Google your symptoms and tell you what's wrong.

I could go on so long about my ability

My list would reach clear to the Sea of Tranquility.

So, please, Mister Majesty, retain your Land.

I may not be ruler, but I feel like I am.  

Topic for august

Electronics, blessing or burden?

Bonnie's month 2

Heartbreak is a trial in life that to no one is unknown

It comes like a thief in the night and turns life upside down

You never no its lurking but around the corner it sits

And when you round that corner life is a puzzle that doesn't fit.

Here the real trial begins, not the heart but reaction you have

Do you wallow in self pity or return your heart to god?

For in his arms he lifts you and warms your broken heart

He tells you if you trust in him he'll calm your mind and heart.

The pain in time will subside but life is never the same. 

 empathy is a beautiful gift of sharing love and pain.

Dianne's Month 2

The first time that I picked up the guitar

 It produced a brash discordant strummmmm.

That struck desire in my deepest heart

To create a more harmonious one

I worked and practiced day by day by day

My fingers sore and injured from the string

But worth it as I finally found the way

To accompany myself when I would sing

The undertaking huge when I began

Became a quest that carried me along

And buoyed my spirit somewhat like the plan

That lifts our souls when singing sacred song.

Cinnamon's Month 2

Turn Out the Light

The house, it is a wreck

And my ire is flaring

This place is a pig sty 

No one else is caring.

Do the dishes, sweep the floor,

Now, or I will ground  you.

If you don't clean in double time

Your sentence will astound you.

I start to seethe.

I need to breath.

Please let me out the door.

I shouldn't talk.

Just let me walk

Until my heart rate's slower.

The sky

Is blue.

The clouds

Are pink.

I breath

In deep.

Ahh...I

Can think.

I walk back in the door

There's more order than there was before.

Perfect, no, better, yes.

The kids have hidden.  They're wise, I guess.

I seek out the baby,

Turn on a CD

Of guitar softly playing

A sweet melody.

With babe in my arms

I turn out the light, 

Breathe baby blond curls

And pace into the night.  

In darkness I can't see 

The grime on the floor,

The clutter in corners,

Or prints on the door.

So when chaos threatens 

To overcome your might,

Just scoop up the baby 

And turn out the light.  

Topic for July

Challenges that become blessings.

Nephi Writes... the Rest

They built a boat, the promised land was waiting.
On board, some were rude and would forget.
To the mast, Nephi was tied,
The ocean raged, his family cried.
Nephi wrote that they repented and were blessed.

In the promised land they built a temple.
The law was kept by his posterity.
While his brothers knew not God,
Nephi grasped the iron rod.
Nephi wrote so they'd remember faithfully.

They spoke of Christ, because of Him, they're joyful.
They wanted all their children to believe.
They wrote of Christ so they may know
To what source they may go
For forgiveness and for peace eternally.

Nephi writes for the learning of his children
Of faith and trials of long ago.
So his children will know
He loves the Father so,
And he writes for the learning of us all.

Cinnamon's Week 1

Nephi writes for the learning of his children
Of faith and trials of long ago.
So his children will know,
He loves the Father so
And he writes for the learning of us all

Lehi's sons went to get the get the brass plate record
From a man who would not let them go.
Nephi knew if he'd obey
The Lord would make a way
 And he writes, so all of us will know.

To their father they returned, he sent them right back,
This time, for Ishmael's family.
To his daughters they were wed,
 Just as Heavenly Father said
Nephi wrote that he was blessed exceedingly.




And that's all there is so far!  I'm a day late, and only half done, but there is music!  I wasn't expecting that.  I've never written a song before.  Well, no, I take that back.  I did once when I was about 6.  It went, "Bunnie, bunnie, gimme, gimme.  Bunnie, bunnie, gimme, gimme."  With a tune just as inspiring.  I'm hoping that at least it was close to Easter, but it might not have been.

Also, my plan was, to take Nephi's psalm and give it rhythm and rhyme.  Then I read it again.  It's themes are so varied:  desire to teach his children, love for the scriptures, regret for his weaknesses, gratitude and praise for God, rejoicing, yearning, faith...  How do you fit all of that into ONE poem?  And then, Dianne, you said that your thought had been to take your favorite lines and write a poem for each.  So I focused on just one line.  It's only partially done, and what is done needs work, but I am enjoying the process.

So here's the beginning of a tune...

Dianne's Week 1

To Trust or be trusted

The greatest praise

To be trusted…

“I’ll do it if you’ll do it”

“Hold my hand”

“Because Grandma told me”

“Can I sleep with you?”

“Proofread this”

“What do you think of this deal”

“Will you watch my baby?”

“Will you cut my hair”

“Can you take dinner in?”

“Fill in my sample ballot.”

“You’ve been called to lead the Young Women”

Each time someone trusts me

I receive the greatest measure.

I, in turn, must trust also…

“You drive”

“Can you teach for me Sunday?”

“Dr., my stomach hurts”

“Wed my child and raise my grandchildren.”

“Return with honor”

“Heavenly Father, help them.”

“Oh Lord, I have trusted thee,

And I will trust in thee forever.”

Bonnie's "Week 1 First Attempt"

The words of men that love that god
That gave us all the breath of life
Cause the least of us to feel 
Gratitude of their testimonies light.

The testimony that they have
Shine as bright as noon day sun
And the words so eloquently describe
The love given to all from the one

The one that gave his life and death
To ensure we knew our way
And continues to answer the questions we have
Each and every passing day.

The mortal man with so much to prove 
Could never do it with all his flaws. 
It makes you wonder how any man
Can deny that there is a god.

The beauty of life is proof enough
That it could never be thought of as chance
We are on our road toward eternity 
And this life is just a passing glance.

Week 1 Topic: Nephi's Psalm: 2 Ne 4: 15-35

By way of explanation to any besides the three of us who may stumble across this place:  We are three friends who also happen to be related to each other.  We like to write, but don't do it as often as we'd like, so we created a challenge, with a topic each month, and one poem due in that month, from each of us.  We hope to create, we hope to improve, we hope to share a little of ourselves.  We also hope you enjoy your stay.