Lisa Jane
1st born child
(I was supposed to be John William but fate saw otherwise.)
Daughter, sister, babysitter - caregiver
wife, lover, friend - caretaker
mother, aunt, grandmother- nurturer.
Who am I?
I am bold, creative, outspoken, sometimes quiet.
I sing, I dance, I am melodramatic.
I am curious about people, places, things.
Who am I?
I am a librarian - a keeper of books, a teller of tales - a professional.
I am the memory maker and the memory keeper.
I am the shepherd to my flock,
the lover to my spouse,
the first, the middle, the last of my line.
Who am I?
Lisa Jane Fugate Bond
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Hoptown Writers
So when I joined this group is was a whim. Now I see it is hekping me get it together again. I.ve written more in the last 2 months than I have in years.
This is for Stevie, my husband- whom I love more than life itself!
I Wish I Was Brave Enough
I see you
up ahead
shirt flapping,
cap on backwards. Momma always said
"wear your seatbelt,
lock the doors,
accidents happen close to home."
I see you
sitting so relaxed,
feeling the sun
warm on your face. Momma always said
"wear a hat on your head.
don't forget the sunscreen,
you'll burn you know."
But I see you
and I wish,
just for a moment,
that I was brave enough
to hop on the back of your bike
and embrace life....
I see you.
This is for Stevie, my husband- whom I love more than life itself!
I Wish I Was Brave Enough
I see you
up ahead
shirt flapping,
cap on backwards. Momma always said
"wear your seatbelt,
lock the doors,
accidents happen close to home."
I see you
sitting so relaxed,
feeling the sun
warm on your face. Momma always said
"wear a hat on your head.
don't forget the sunscreen,
you'll burn you know."
But I see you
and I wish,
just for a moment,
that I was brave enough
to hop on the back of your bike
and embrace life....
I see you.
Julie
This is a poem I wrote 15 years or so ago.
Time passes all too soon.
Years fly past.
The only reminder-
a young girl
grown into a woman
the image
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of a mother she never knew.
Time passes all too soon.
Years fly past.
The only reminder-
a young girl
grown into a woman
the image
Worst blogger in the world!
I must be the worst blogger ever! I have procrastinated, hesitated and prayed over this. It is as if I am having writer's block!! Really I'm not, but for some reason the closer we get to visiting with the maternal side of the family, the less I want to talk about it.
I have joined a local writer's group and the poetry is coming back. It makes me feel more in tune with myself. My goal is to write a thousand words about momma within the next 2 weeks. I may need help.
The heat is becoming unbearable! How did we manage without air as children? I have none now and am melting daily. The thouhgt of doing anything makes me perspire. I recall summers growing up where we never even saw the inside of the house until supper time!! We did not sit around the television or computer, we did not play videogames. We played outside and even those of us who were voracious readers, did that outdoors as well. My skin did not burn or tan so I must have stayed under trees although I recall lots of running and jumping. Skinned knees were a daily occurence and rarely required trips to the hospital. Mom would call us in for lunch, we would run through and grab a peanutbutter or bologna sandwich and glass of koolaid and were back outside within minutes!
We built forts out of mowed grass, fairy houses out of roots, leaves and flowers and we played tag, statue, hide and go seek and duck duck goose non-stop.
When pop came home we would go in, wash up, set the table and sit down to supper. Momma would assign us table duties like setting, clearing and washing dishes. After supper we took baths, 2 and 3 of us at a time. We had an hour or so of television with ice cream or cookies or jello for dessert, followed by bedtime. Momma would read to us, we read to ourselves and off to lullabye land.
As we grew older, we became more difficult getting to bed. It was worse than herding cattle. Bill Cosby does a bit called "Don't make me come up there" where he talks of his wife yelling at the ceiling when the children are getting ready for bed. It always reminds me of momma! Procrastination was the mood and we wanted to stay up to watch Kojak, MASH and all the cool shows that they kept to themselves. If momma couldn't get us to settle down, she would do just the opposite. We sat on the sofa, not allowed to speak, get up to go the bathroom or go to sleep. Rarely did we balk 2 nights in a row!
Last month I watched Burlesque. Musicals were Mom's favorite and I remember in high school being allowed to stay up and watch Natalie Wood in Gypsy. To this day I watch each time it comes on and think of momma.
I have joined a local writer's group and the poetry is coming back. It makes me feel more in tune with myself. My goal is to write a thousand words about momma within the next 2 weeks. I may need help.
The heat is becoming unbearable! How did we manage without air as children? I have none now and am melting daily. The thouhgt of doing anything makes me perspire. I recall summers growing up where we never even saw the inside of the house until supper time!! We did not sit around the television or computer, we did not play videogames. We played outside and even those of us who were voracious readers, did that outdoors as well. My skin did not burn or tan so I must have stayed under trees although I recall lots of running and jumping. Skinned knees were a daily occurence and rarely required trips to the hospital. Mom would call us in for lunch, we would run through and grab a peanutbutter or bologna sandwich and glass of koolaid and were back outside within minutes!
We built forts out of mowed grass, fairy houses out of roots, leaves and flowers and we played tag, statue, hide and go seek and duck duck goose non-stop.
When pop came home we would go in, wash up, set the table and sit down to supper. Momma would assign us table duties like setting, clearing and washing dishes. After supper we took baths, 2 and 3 of us at a time. We had an hour or so of television with ice cream or cookies or jello for dessert, followed by bedtime. Momma would read to us, we read to ourselves and off to lullabye land.
As we grew older, we became more difficult getting to bed. It was worse than herding cattle. Bill Cosby does a bit called "Don't make me come up there" where he talks of his wife yelling at the ceiling when the children are getting ready for bed. It always reminds me of momma! Procrastination was the mood and we wanted to stay up to watch Kojak, MASH and all the cool shows that they kept to themselves. If momma couldn't get us to settle down, she would do just the opposite. We sat on the sofa, not allowed to speak, get up to go the bathroom or go to sleep. Rarely did we balk 2 nights in a row!
Last month I watched Burlesque. Musicals were Mom's favorite and I remember in high school being allowed to stay up and watch Natalie Wood in Gypsy. To this day I watch each time it comes on and think of momma.
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