"We relish news of our heroes, forgetting that we are extraordinary to somebody too."
~Helen Hayes
"A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a love sickness."
~Robert Frost
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Hi and Welcome to Thursday! The weather has begun to cool off here and that is always a blessing to us.. No air conditioner.. no heat.. Lower electric bill.. I love that.. and in these penny pinching times.. anything that helps lower a bill is a huge blessing by my standards..
Today is Thursday and that means I share three things with you who will visit here.. I hope you enjoy your visit and hopefully will come back again...
1~}- The Thursday photo challenge this week has listed the theme "ART" and goes further to explain it as follows... ~ Paintings, Drawings, Murals, Graffiti, Crafts, Brushes, Pens, Pencils,...~
I could have walked around snapping pictures of the drawing on my kid's room walls.. the bucket of paint Dave left sitting in the floor of the room we are working on.. the hand painted birdhouses that the children and I made years ago for our feathered friends.. the sketch books Coop left in his old room.. the pencil drawing Anthony made for me of the Gunslinger... The Apple Emily colored for me in first grade.. The velvet "Love" poster Jenny made for me.. or even some of Davids art work.. But I didn't.. I am still using someone else laptop and I am trying my very best to be a good borrower and not add anything... unless I positively have to... to her computer.. So I searched the very few pictures I had added and all the pictures of hers and way back in the distance behind her and her beloved.. I spotted some very beautiful art.. The trees in this shot are very appealing and artistic to me.. The statue isn't half bad either.. I love all things art and I think that Art covers an extremely large area.. My Mom's quilts are art.. Photographs family and friends make are art.. The food Reuben cooks is an art...The birdhouses we make from gourds are art.. Tattoos that my friend Red puts on people are art..Even the way I twist and turn words is an art.. I think almost everyone has some artistic talent... Maybe you can draw good sidewalk chalk pictures or build a great sand castle?! ..But My very favorite form of art.. is the beauty found naturally in our everyday world!..
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2~}- I recently entered a contest that I think I talked about where I didn't notice that it was "rounds"... My first round poem was called Spilled Colors and then I got the note saying I had to report to the sight and choose a name from a list and write a poem about a name on the list... As soon as I scanned the list I spotted a name that I have heard many times before... Uncle Weston has been a ghost story around these parts for many years.. A black Man ghost who plows a mule by lantern light is a ghost story that you never forget.. especially when you have stayed many nights in the house with your sister who lives on that land where he is said to walk... The contest is over and I didn't win.. I don't care about the winning really.. I usually write by what moves me .. once I saw this name I knew that I had to write Weston's story.. But I have had a gazillion comments on the poem.. I hope you like it.. If you ever come to this neck of the woods I'll be glad to show you where Uncle Weston plows.. I'll almost bet we could even get my oldest sister to put on a pot of coffee..
The Widow's Mite ~ (Weston)
Weston worked and worried
from sun up till sundown
for the freed-man knew the reason
that Pap had gone to town.
Pap had loved his family
but now that Ma was gone
Pap had said to Weston
"I can't do this alone."
Pap had hitched the wagon
and said "I've got to ride"
" But I'll be back this evening
with Leatha by my side.."
The young uns worried Weston
as they picked and teased all day
No matter how they nagged him
not a word did Weston say..
Pappy loved his Leatha
She worked right by his side
she proved herself a help-mate
not just an Old Man's bride.
Weston held each baby
As if they were his own
and all too soon for Leatha
God called Pappy home
The Young uns said to Leatha
we will give you land
some lumber for a two room shack
a mule and Pappy's Hand.
the Child bride was a widow
she had no will to fight
Weston was a freed-man
who became the widow's mite.
Weston spoke to Leatha
as the sun rose on the day
"Get yo babies Mammy
and lets be on our way"
Side by side they worked the land
a forty acre sprawl
they watched the sons grow in to men
straight and strong and Tall.
They called him Uncle Weston
their Pap had set him free
But he stayed to help their mammy
and hold them on his knee.
Crony; Benson; Dorris
and baby Elloree
all loved their uncle Weston
and now we come to me..
Weston died one Sunday
I now live on the land
where Mammy came with babies
and one old wrinkled hand.
They say Old Weston walks here
Him and his Mule Belle
They plow and plant the acres
and see that we are well..
I never saw a spirit
but sometimes late at night
I here the mules bell jingle
I see a lanterns Light..
Uncle Weston was a freed man
His skin as black as Night
But Mammy was a widow
and he was Mammy's Might!
Written By: Patricia Sawyer
9-16-2009
a special thanks to Crony's daughter Nancy
and to her daughter-in-law Trudy for sharing
their stories of Mammy and Uncle Weston
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3~}- A Haiku to finish out the three..
Dave and I planted a few rows of peas .. we planted them late in the year but were hoping to get a few pots of fresh ones before the frost finished them off.. We picked a dishpan full this week. Mama sure is a lot faster pea sheller than I am.. she had them shelled by the time I got our lunch fixed.. Three quarts of peas for the freezer and a rare weekday lunch with me.. Mama and Dave.. I love fresh peas and corn bread...
supper time
field peas with fat back
bubbling on the wood stove~
tummies rumble
Written By: Patricia Sawyer9-20-2009
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That is three for Thursday.. another week has almost come and gone.. I noticed yesterday that the stores have Halloween and Christmas decoration all crammed in there together..I did finally find a pilgrim stuffed on the bottom shelf way down on the end of the aisle.. I was thinking about decorating with a skeleton in a Santa suit with a lady pilgrim.. baking a pumpkin pie.. for his wife.. That way I can just decorate once time and leave it up till just before New Years! wouldn't that be artistic?? ... Maybe I'll pass on the decorations all around and just quietly be thankful for the artistic beauty I see around me everyday... Have a great day!!
Patsy
3 comments:
I enjoyed reading about Weston and his plowing. I can see it happening in my head. You always do a wonderful job of bringing life to the words you write. I am a little cold today, so the cup of coffee sounds good. We might could put some kahlua in that instead of the ice cream...
~loves2ride
i have been experimenting a dramatic climate change since being back. i checked the temp yesterday, here was 47 and santee was 93! it is taking some getting used to, to say the least.
i agree with you (imagine that) in that the most beautiful art in the world is right before our eyes and ears every single day.
wow! the widow's mite is an incredible piece of art! i was so moved by your words and received awesome visuals, thank you!
i absolutely love fresh peas! i can never find anyone that will grow them for me. it seems they are a hard one to grow. your haiku is great patsy, keep up the good work!
you have a wonderful day my dear friend...hugz!
Another good one. You must want me to cook you another meal. We need to plan another "girls night out". Love you! Reuben
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