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Winter Memories, Sonnet |
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Dec 7 16, 09:44
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Group: Gold Member
Posts: 11,402
Joined: 15-June 07
From: Springfield, Louisiana
Member No.: 446
Real Name: Larry D. Jennings
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:Just wondered in.
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Winter Memories
Small diamonds weighed on umber blades of grass where dew had coalesced, now icy glade for sustenance came much too late. Like glass, the field made rainbows and their ends cascade
through shadows cast by barren trees. Dead leaves formed multi-colored mounds; red, yellow, gold to molder under snow. Winter deceives with periods of warmth and bitter cold
as though ambivalent. The holidays, with family and friends who bring good cheer; bright smiles or tears as Christmas music plays, anticipation of a new-born year.
Each season paints a memory then dies but touches heart and soul and blesses eyes.
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Dec 12 16, 16:35
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Ornate Oracle
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 8,896
Joined: 27-August 04
From: Bariloche, Argentine Patagonia
Member No.: 78
Real Name: Sylvia Evelyn Maclagan
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:David Ting
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Hi Larry, What a lovely, thoughtful sonnet about winter and the coming festivities. I especially like the last stanzas, which I've quoted below. I see that you mention "each season" painting memories, then dying. So true. Time flows and is marked by passing seasons, which may or may not be the same as they arrive and fade away, nor mathematically divided as our man-made calendars pretend to delineate. I love the sense of flowing time and the contrast between smiles and tears that Christmas music induces in all of us. Especially as the years pass! Childhood festivities seldom give one a sense of sadness, at least that was not my experience. Now all has changed, so many loved ones gone. Thanks so much for sending us this gift for Christmas! Hope you have a happy family reunion, Larry. Best, Syl
The holidays, with family and friends who bring good cheer; bright smiles or tears as Christmas music plays, anticipation of a new-born year.
Each season paints a memory then dies but touches heart and soul and blesses eyes.
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Mis temas favoritos The Lord replied, my precious, precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.
"There is no life higher than the grasstops Or the hearts of sheep, and the wind Pours by like destiny, bending Everything in one direction."
Sylvia Plath, Crossing the Water, Wuthering Heights. Nominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here!MM Award Winner
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Dec 13 16, 14:38
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Group: Gold Member
Posts: 11,402
Joined: 15-June 07
From: Springfield, Louisiana
Member No.: 446
Real Name: Larry D. Jennings
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:Just wondered in.
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Hi Sylvia,
Thanks for stopping by for a read and I'm glad you enjoyed sharing my memories.
Unfortunately, there are no "family reunions" in the near future or forever for that matter. Being raised in an orphanage due to a broken home, a younger brother gone, a sister in Alaska and an older brother in Texas; that tradition has gone by the way-side.
The poem was, to me, more of a melancholy nature and like the seasons, life changes. We play the cards we are dealt and win or lose, we try to stay in the game for as long as we can; thus the tears.
Hope you and yours have a wonderful Christmas.
Larry
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Dec 15 16, 16:42
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Ornate Oracle
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 8,896
Joined: 27-August 04
From: Bariloche, Argentine Patagonia
Member No.: 78
Real Name: Sylvia Evelyn Maclagan
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:David Ting
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Thank you for your good wishes, Larry. I'm sorry that you don't even have good childhood memories. Orphanages can be pretty rough, perhaps your Christmas supper was an extra pudding or something, and very likely donated.
Sounds quite Dickensian. Hope it was better than that, Larry.
As to my own reunions, only one grandson will be arriving on Christmas Day. My daughter Diana is the only family I have nearby. I think I've already mentioned that I lost two sons when they were extremely young. One at 21 in a traffic incident, where he was not even driving. My other son, Patrick, died aged 29 after fighting ALS, or Lou Gehrig's Disease, for almost 6 years. Patrick's passing got chained up with my husband Carlos's first major heart surgery, so I had hardly any time for a period of mourning, life just had to go on. In the end Carlos had 3 major heart surgeries, the last of which left him with permanent dementia, most likely due to nearly 5 hours of anesthesia. He died 3 years ago, or it will be 3 years on Epiphany in January.
I suppose that my Fibromyalgia struck me whilst I was caring for Carlos, with some assistance, but not on weekends. Psychologists tend to relate certain illnesses with emotional upsets, especially when there's no mourning period.
So here we are sharing sob stories, true ones, and frankly, I don't care very much about the festivities nowadays.
So I only wish for peace, all over the world, which doesn't seem to be going to happen any time soon.
Best wishes and peace, Syl
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Mis temas favoritos The Lord replied, my precious, precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.
"There is no life higher than the grasstops Or the hearts of sheep, and the wind Pours by like destiny, bending Everything in one direction."
Sylvia Plath, Crossing the Water, Wuthering Heights. Nominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here!MM Award Winner
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Dec 22 16, 11:25
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Group: Gold Member
Posts: 11,402
Joined: 15-June 07
From: Springfield, Louisiana
Member No.: 446
Real Name: Larry D. Jennings
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:Just wondered in.
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Hi Syl,
It wasn't quite like that or anywhere near that bad in the orphanage. They called it a children's home and for the most part, it was. Being taken from a home where the father was gone and the mother was mentally challenged to the point where she could only do menial tasks was the best thing that could have happened to me. One home was Baptist orientated and the other was Church of Christ. In retrospect, both had their good points and bad but the good definitely outweighed the bad.
Both taught me right from wrong and being a bad learner, part of the teaching was administered from behind but that is frowned upon today. Too bad! We might have a better society if children were punished when needed and rewarded for their good deeds. Political correctness - "Bah Humbug!"
Have a wonderful Christmas and even a better New Year.
Larry
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Dec 22 16, 23:40
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Ornate Oracle
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 8,896
Joined: 27-August 04
From: Bariloche, Argentine Patagonia
Member No.: 78
Real Name: Sylvia Evelyn Maclagan
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:David Ting
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Hi again, Larry, I'm glad that's cleared up, about the orphanage. In your previous post it sounded a little different, as you only stated bare facts. And that there wouldn't be much of a Christmas reunion, with family scattered around.
Now I understand. And I agree about children's need to be disciplined, always applying a sort of middle ground. In my father's youth, whips were used. My father actually had a cane, but he never used it! He would threaten my brother that he'd cane him, but he never did. Our punishment was being sent to our bedrooms for about an hour or so. As I had many books and toys, I didn't really care.
Peace and happiness for Nativity and New Year, Syl
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Mis temas favoritos The Lord replied, my precious, precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.
"There is no life higher than the grasstops Or the hearts of sheep, and the wind Pours by like destiny, bending Everything in one direction."
Sylvia Plath, Crossing the Water, Wuthering Heights. Nominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here!MM Award Winner
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