Thursday, July 28, 2011


Skinny, braided pigtails, adorned with ribbons.

Golden curly halo, crowning mischievous eyes.

Resounding choruses of pealing laughter, echoing.

Life gave me three lively boys.

My sister gave me two nieces.

Two beloved little cherubs to adore,

Two precious examples of girly sweetness.

Two girls, three boys, five cousins.

How could life be any sweeter?

What sweetens your days?  Tell us about it!  Visit Melissa at Making Things Up and learn more about Six Word Fridays!

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Love's Threads

Love's taken many forms for me:

My little sister's hand in mine,

her adult shoulder to cry on.

A handsome, green eyed young man

who now likes to disguise himself

as a nearing middle-age, graying father.

Three newborn baby boys, so tiny;

now parade as strapping young men.

I've caught a glimpse of Love,

it's ever changing forms and stories.

And I am grateful for how

Love's silken threads have carefully embroidered

the tapestry of this: my life.

Loved?  In love?  Share with us!  Visit Melissa at Making Things Up for more on Six Word Fridays!

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Well Paid, Infinitely Wealthy

Job description notes endless days, nights.

Dirty faces and behinds, whining, complaining.

Rumbling, hungry tummies to be filled.

Injustices to be righted with conviction.

Armed with Mommy's Childrearing Playbook,

tasks are rarely completed as desired.

On days I need it most,

payday is an unimaginable windfall.

Currency: Hugs, kisses, squeals and smiles.

It makes "All About the Benjamin's"

turn an envious shade of green.

I doubt millionaires are this rich.
Paid for a job well done?  Want to learn more about Six Word Fridays?  Visit Melissa at Making Things Up!

Thursday, July 7, 2011

Crossing the finish line

It all started with a dare.

Endless training: early mornings, late nights.

Calloused feet, sore legs, rickety knees.

Questions, answers, gear, fuel, hot showers.

One cold January morning, I waited.

Nervous, anxious to start, heart pumping.

The gun, the rush, the race.

My face greeted by cold air,

my feet effortlessly doing what I

could never do as a child.

My boys waiting at Mile Ten,

cameras in hand, tears flooding me,

the end so very near now.

As the sound of pounding drums

greeted my last turn, I rejoiced.

I caught my breathe, geared up

and made my legs go faster.

Thirty-seven years. Six months. Three hours.

The sight of that finish line

is something I will never forget.

I will never underestimate myself again.

Ever crossed the line?  Tell us about it!  Visit Melissa at Making Things Up to find out more about Six Word Fridays!