A Christmas Story for You

Here is a true, touching Christmas story for you this week that I wrote some time ago. It’s a story of the innocence of a child and the true meaning of Christmas. ‘Tis the reason for the season.
https://plunkchronicles.blogspot.com/search?q=Christmas%20Story&fbclid=IwAR2eUlsiutGbs4IdYoK7vZfBD6_88BvHJvRbePB9AuaFrqRohNTwmxgtxwA

Softly

Soft is the way he touched you in the beginning.
Soft is the way he kissed you, held you and
Soft is what he thought you.
Soft is the way his eyes look at rest.
Soft is the way he breathes and smiles and
Soft is the way your happy tears slide from your eyes.
Soft is the way he turned from you at the beginning of the end.
Soft is how your soul began to dissolve and understand and
Soft is your head for ever believing.

Video Book Review on Opal & Warren County

I’m so excited! The wonderful book review blogger and all-round lovely person, Christina Welburn Huber, has devoted one of her video reviews to my Opal and Warren County Days. I am so honored. Check it out and feel free to pass along the link. She brings many books to our attention online at Candid Christina and on her video blog. Thank you, Christina.

Visit Me on YouTube

I’M ON YOUTUBE (again)! This video won’t win an Emmy or go viral, but it’s finally giving me the opportunity to start promoting Warren County Days, the sequel to Opal.(publisher issues now over!) If you read Opal, you’ll see what happened to characters you met there, and you’ll meet new ones. But Warren County stands alone if you haven’t read Opal. If you’ve read both, thank you and I’m honored. If not, both are available on Amazon. I think you’ll find something you like, so spread the word. And check out the YouTube video. Mr. DeMille, I’m ready for my close up.
YOUTUBE.COMwww.youtube.com

Poetry Friday 6

Parents lose children to mental illness, drugs, alcohol, death, and even unwelcome distance. Sometimes it helps just to say, “Yeah, me too.” Understand a mother’s heart in this piece from my collection, Little Boy Lost.

Forged in Pain

There is a hollow place where the hurt was.
And a little rain falls.
It glowed once like a smelting pot
Spilling over with the ache of your perfect pain.

But the burning place cooled and hardened
Taking the shape of despair,
Looking something like a heart,

And then it broke.

Poetry Friday 5

Parents lose children to mental illness, drugs, alcohol, death, and even unwelcome distance. Sometimes it helps just to say, “Yeah, me too.” Read this from the collection Little Boy Lost
Son Shine
It seemed a magic season
When as one of us he’d come
To bring the light into my heart
And steal a piece of sun.

Holding the treasure tightly
In his grimey little fist,
He gave it to me proudly
On that day before the mist.

No thunderheads foretold the change.
No lightning proclaimed his going.
But fog and rain clouds dimmed the light
‘Til only gloom was showing.

The gold and sparkle slipped from sight.
Hide and seek played in the skies.
Star dust traces his little steps.
His smile peeks through sunrise.

Must I just be glad he was here
And left a piece of sunshine?
Or may I cry to say good-bye
To the days that made my son shine?

Poetry Friday 4

Parents lose children to mental illness, drugs, alcohol, death, and even unwelcome distance. Sometimes it helps just to say, “Yeah, me too.” Read this from the collection Little Boy Lost.
Today
Today’s goal is simply, to love.
Not for what you were,
In spite of what you aren’t
Or in fear of what might be.
But because we are linked
In need, joy and sometimes sorrow,
This day we will simply love.

Poetry Friday 3

Parents lose children to mental illness, drugs, alcohol, death, and even unwelcome distance. Sometimes it helps just to say, “Yeah, me too.” Read this from the collection Little Boy Lost.

Rx

3:22 p.m., March 12 and
The messenger’s nearly here
With this year’s diagnosis.
The package will be gaily wrapped.
Sometimes they add balloons.
In the following procession
The addendums march in,
Gilded with the newest rules
Tossing current practice
Like multi-colored confetti into the air.
Gentle reprisals in white lab coats
Complete the cortege with brooms in hand
Sweeping up discarded instructions.
And with a grand huzzah
They toast their cleverness,
Present the gift,
And leave.
3:25 p.m., March 12 and
Nothing’s changed at all.

Poetry Friday 2

Parents lose children to mental illness, drugs, alcohol, death, and even unwelcome distance. Sometimes it helps just to say, “Yeah, me too.” Read this from the collection Little Boy Lost.

Mother G’s Lament
Red Rover, red rover,
Where has he gone?
London Bridge has fallen
And the words are all wrong.

Hey diddle diddle,
Where’s Little Boy Blue?
The haystack is empty
And the dream is through.

Upstairs and downstairs
I’ve looked for what was
.Humpty Dumpty’s answer is
Not why, but just because.

Goldilocks is sleeping.
Her journey nears its end
The bears are creeping closer.
The wicked queen lets them in.

I take up shield and sword
And step into the fray.
Can I reach you, slay the danger?
And win, or simply pray?