One Promise Down!

"Oaths are but words, and words but wind." ~Samuel Butler


























"But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep."
~ Robert Frost


"Promises are like babies: easy to make, hard to deliver." ~Author Unknown

Everyone has been wondering where I have been. I have been very busy. I have been making Beef Jerky and drying fruit for Trail mix. I do that every year around this time. I have been getting buckets and barrels ready for planting and have even planted Cabbages and onions this week. But beyond all of that, I have been very busy helping My Beloved Dave fulfill a promise he made to me while we were dating. I think everyone knows how that works. We promise each other the moon and then the moon moves further and further away.



I have always wanted my own little farm. With chickens and a pig; Maybe some goats and of course a horse or even two. I wanted plants of all kinds and grape vines and fruit trees. I still have the drawings we made one night just sitting under the car port together watching the fire burn itself out. The Children were long asleep and we were just dreaming. Or maybe even hoping. Dave drew the whole farm out on Notebook paper stolen from Anthony's book bag. Chicken pens and a pig pen behind the house. A Kitchen Garden back there with Vegetables and herbs and a Horse and cow in the field. He folded the paper up tiny and promised me in a whisper.. "Someday Baby, if you will just give me a chance!"

It took me a while but I married Dave. I have never regretted one second of it. But I have been thinking about that folded up paper more and more..We are getting older. I still carry my dream paper around in my Purse. It has it's own special place there. Last year I wrote Dave a poem. Just a reminder of that night we sat and planned. This week he and I decided to carry out a small part of our dream. The pictures are of what we have been doing this week. Notice the one pen that is an "A" frame. Can you guess what it is built from? It is an old swing set that the children have long ago outgrown. I am Happy to hear the roosters crowing early in the morning. I am Happy that Dave is "One Promise down~ a few more to go!"
Please enjoy our chickens today as we have all week. Have a great day!
Patsy


Broken Promises!

You promised me some chickens
You promised me a goat
You promised me a castle,
But I don't see a moat!

You Promised me a horse to ride;
upon a steed so fine.
You promised me a vineyard
But I don't taste the wine!

You promised me a yard so fare
They'd come from miles around
"Well, let them come!" Is what I say!
we have lots and lots of ground!

You promised also Peace to me
and love for me and you.
And for all the ones you broke my Love
At least you kept these two!

Written By : Patricia Sawyer
2-5-2008
11:41pm

I love the lists! They Feed Imagination!

"Feelings of worth can flourish only in an atmosphere where individual differences are appreciated, mistakes are tolerated, communication is open, and rules are flexible -- the kind of atmosphere that is found in a nurturing family" ~ Virginia Satir


"There's no vocabulary For love within a family, love that's lived in But not looked at, love within the light of which All else is seen, the love within which All other love finds speech. This love is silent." ~T S Eliot

"Here is my List~ Granny Jean, Jack, Love, Hope, Family~ see what you can do." ~ Camella

" I give you the gift of one word ~Fire!" ~ Anthony



I love the lists. I get them from family and friends and strangers. I get them from old spelling books sometimes if I am out of lists from people. I also like the word search word lists because they usually all pertain to a certain subject. But I really like lists that people give to me. I know they are excited to see what I can do with their words. And I am always excited too see what I can do with their words too. There have only been a very few times that I have not wrote from a list that was given to me. I have even wrote from one word lists. Words like fire, Anger, and even the word whores have been sent to me. I wrote for each of them. But today I am posting two poems. The first is from a list of words that Camella sent to me. A short lists as you can see. The shorter the list the harder it is to write. More words for me to pull from my own brain. The Second poem is from a one word gift from Anthony. I hope Y'all enjoy today's writings.
Have a great day.
Patsy


Not What I Had Imagined!

Delightful Meaty, spicy
aroma's spilled into the air
from the red brick Building
and I felt sure that the People
boating, on the two blocks away,
Lake were sniffing the air.
Head tossed back In awe
of the wonderful smells.

"Jack's in the kitchen"
I heard him say as they pulled
into the empty parking space
next to mine. Smiling!
Glad to see us there.
Frank was in Love.

Coming around the red mustang,
grinning, in his new blue jeans.
Helping His new love from the front seat.
Settling the Child upon his hip.
Natural, the way the three of them
seemed to fit. A budding family.
Camella smiled eyes filled with hope,
reaching out for Anthony. Laughing
as he threw his year old self into
her welcoming arms.

Laughing her way up the sidewalk.
Passed the pots of vibrant blooms
resting there on the narrow steps.
" Welcome Home" they seemed to say
in the bland neighborhood. Yellows and bright
reds tumbling from their clay pots.

I was a little bit afraid. About to meet
My brother's, new Love's family.
What if they don't like me I wondered,
will it make them not like him?
I'll be on my very best behavior!
I promised myself silently.
Just before Granny Jean threw
open the front door. Standing there
with pocket novel in her hand
and a welcoming smile in her eyes.

I was about to be introduced
to my new Lifelong friends.
Not at all what I had imagined.
But oh so much more than I had hoped.
I was their new son's little sister.
That made me family in the Brown House!

written By: Patricia Sawyer
11-4-2008
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fire

fierce
inferno
raging and
engaging!

written By: Patricia Sawyer
2-18-2008

Another Poetic Wednesday!

"Let your tears come. Let them water your soul. " ~Eileen Mayhew

"The soul would have no rainbow had the eyes no tears." ~John Vance Cheney

"I heard the teardrop hit my pillow before I even knew I was crying." ~Amborella Oltre


Many years ago I used to write every day. I even took writing classes through the mail. I was published in several magazines and really thought I would someday be a "real" writer. Which was my school girls dream. Then My life took some drastic turns and twists and in 1990 I laid aside my pen to deal with life! I never regretted my life. I enjoyed some of it! What I didn't enjoy I am still thankful for because it has made me who I am.. Then Last year Dave and I took a trip to the beach and on the way home I felt tears for no reason. I cried all the way home. Him constantly asking if I was OK.. By the time I got home a poem had already written itself in my mind. My first writing in a lot of years. Today I am including two poems. The last one that I wrote in 1990~ ( I can't believe I found this after all this time. I need to have a serious throwing out around here!) and the first one I wrote when I decided one fine day to take back my dream!


Trucker Husband

Many miles away
you sit in a truck stop
filled with women.
~ And I worry!

They feed you steak
and smell like french perfume
they refill your cup.
~ And I worry!

You look down from your window
at their mini-skirted thighs
zooming along the interstate.
~ And I worry!

The phone rings
late at night
and you're away~ somewhere.
~ And I worry!

But you need not worry!
Cause when the last load is delivered
and your eighteen wheels roll toward home.
I'll be there waiting.
For the love of my Trucker Husband!
written By: Patricia Sawyer

(Patricia Black Holder)
1-10-1990
~before the storm~


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


A Tear

A tear dropped from eye today.
Why it fell I can not say!
Was it what I heard,
that you had said?
Was it the thoughts of friends long dead?
Was it a warn of things to come?
Was it because of things I'd done?
He rolled away across my cheek:
He made me feel both small and meek.
I never did decide you see
just why that tear jumped out at me.
But as he dripped down from my chin
I felt the smile begin again.
For tears aren't always for the weak!
Each tear that falls will feed our strength.
And as I brushed that tear away,
I thanked my God for one more day!
For as that tear swept across my face,
He touched my heart and added space!
for Us to grow and change each day,
Sometimes a tear must pass our way.

written by:Patricia Black Sawyer
1-20-2008



We all have trials and troubles. My Daddy used to say
"The sun don't shine on the same dogs back all the time. Either the dog or
the sun one will move!" I thought for many years that Daddy was wrong.
I even kicked my dogs a few times. Hoping the sun would again shine on me.
Today I write something every day.. Not all of it is good.. I am taking several
writing classes on-line.. I never knew there were so many forms of poetry!
I am thankful for the hard times.. they give me emotions to draw on when I am
writing. Be thankful for every day.. for even days with tears are important.
Have a great day today if you can.. and if today brings you tears.. allow them to
build a rainbow with-in your soul!
Patsy

The Invisible Man

No one is asking what happened to all the homeless. No one cares, because it's easier to get on the subway and not be accosted. ~Richard Linklater

I would do anything for my Mother. That is how I became aware of the invisible man. Last July Mama got sick. Now Mama hates hospitals almost as much as I do and had never been admitted to one except for the times she was there to have babies. She doesn't count those eight times. This time though Mama wasn't going to come home with a bundle of joy. I wasn't sure Mama was going to come home at all. But for now she and her sick heart were upstairs under the attention of her other seven children and her first Non baby toting nurse. I was leaning against the ashtray outside. I was trying to get me a few more puffs in before I had to return to the sterile heart ward to guard my Mother through the night.

I watched him walk past me and then come back and ask for a light. I shared my lighter and small talk as he lit a half smoked cool and propped up there beside me near the ashtray stands. He wore jeans slung low on a skinny butt. Much too thin for my taste even had I been in the market for a man. His hair could have used a trim but wasn't unfashionably long. It appeared clean. He had a tattered gray backpack hanging from one Bony shoulder. His green eyes smiled as he stood laughing as I related to this stranger how the ambulance driver had scared me on the sixty mile ride from My Tiny town to this bigger, better equipped for sick people, City. He agreed that they could be scary behind the wheel. I was sure he was a Doctor or at the very least a medical student. He wished me luck as I turned to go back inside. I did look back once as I walked away. He was tucking something into the side pocket of his Backpack.

Morning finally came peaking through the clouds.. A light rain was falling as My sisters came quietly into the room. They were glad to take over the guarding of our mama and allow me to get some coffee and a smoke. I rode the elevator to the lobby amazed at the early morning bustle of the large City Hospital. Our own tiny hospital only a forth the size, if that, of the one where they had sent my Mama. Congestive heart failure meant Mama had to be moved. And I knew Mama wouldn't go alone. So I had come with her. I would do anything for my mama..She would do anything for me.

I followed my nose to the coffee shop once I reached the ground floor. Just as I went in I saw my stranger friend from the night before cut across the lobby. He was again carrying his back pack. On the way to learn more about Doctoring I thought Watching him hurry to catch the elevator.

I was glad to see others near the ashtrays this morning. I like people in general and like to listen as other people talk to each other. Some call me nosy. I just think I'm curious. I had found me a spot on a ledge near the stands and was enjoying the vacation planning of a couple near me when I first heard the angry yell. "Who took my coffee?' the man yelled looking around at the rest of us. No One answered as he continued to look around for his missing cup. I looked around too, now fully alert and on the look out for a thief with a coffee cup. I only saw the young man from last night as he turned the corner heading away from the pack of early smokers. Just as he turned his profile was turned to me and I saw him drinking from a large coffee. He almost seemed to be laughing as he hurried away into the parking garage. Something about him stuck with me as I walked back to the elevator. I didn't know what yet but I was nosy. I would figure it out.

The rains came hard and fast that afternoon as Mama slept a drugged sleep. I decided a cup of soup from the cafeteria would sooth me. As I walked down the hall towards the elevator I caught a glimpse of the young man again. He was hurrying away from the trash can; Near the snack machines in the Lobby; right beside the nurses station. He had His back pack off and was stuffing it with packages half full of crackers and some sandwiches that they had taken out of the machine earlier that day. Out of date food and two past their prime apples. It was then that I realized that the man I had thought was a doctor was Homeless. It broke my heart. He seemed to be totally invisible to everyone else there. I even for a second wondered if I had seen a ghost. But as he turned and smiled I knew he was really there. He commented on the storm and then said he had to go.. he walked along to the elevator with me. We got on and he pressed the Button to get off one floor down. I guess he was checking the lobby's on all the floors. Filling his pack. His version of buying groceries.

I stayed with Mama a whole week in the big Hospital. I spent a lot of my time watching her sleep or talking quietly with her when she was awake. I knitted things that I gave to the nurses who cared for her so sweetly and some doll dresses for my Granddaughter But mostly I worried about the invisible young man. I watched as he moved about the hospital unseen by anyone but me. He would take coffee from under the nose of people smoking outside and I even saw him walk past a table in the cafeteria once and after he passed the woman was looking all around on the floor for a banana. He could have taken some ones purse or wallet or other important things but he didn't. I watched him fill his cigarette pack from the ashtrays every morning and every night. Yet I never saw him ask for a cigarette. I felt as if I was as invisible while watching him as he was to the world that moved around the hospital. I wanted to offer him something. Maybe a meal or a few dollars but for some reason I felt that he would be embarrassed by my offer. I started buying a sandwich from the machine late at night and leaving it sitting on top of the trash can. Hoping he would find it still fresh for his breakfast. I left whole cigarettes for him in the ashtrays. I'd smoke one and leave one. I even put a clean Tee shirt in the lobby trash can and was pleased to see him wearing it the next morning.

It must be awful to be invisible out by the ashtrays. Where people plan extravagant dates and dinner parties and discuss new clothes and expensive pleasure trips. Never looking at the less fortunate ones around them.
I pray for my invisible friend every night now. Him and the many others like him. I pray that he has found a safe place to dream and a dream that will take him away from the streets!
Have a good night, remember to count your blessings; though they may seem to sometimes be few.
Patsy