Feeling Poetic

As I've been inside listening and watching the amazing gusts of wind generated by Hurricane Ike, I made a list of blog topics. NOW if I can get the satellite to behave when I want it to, I actually might be a "regular" blog writer. Anyway, I am posting another poem. It spoke to me. Most days end with me falling into bed and I wonder how they did it years ago. This poem actually encouraged me at the end of it! How wonderful for this "mama" to end such a day joyfully! It spurs me on to end each day on a beautiful "note." (Doesn't always happen, but God is merciful and full of grace!) Anyway, here's the poem. Enjoy!

Mama's Mama
Mama's Mama, on a winter's day,
Milked the cows and fed them hay,
Slopped the hogs, saddled the mule,
And got the children off to school.
Did a washing, mopped the floors,
Washed the windows and did some chores.
Cooked a dish of home-dried fruit,
Pressed her husband's Sunday suit,
Swept the parlor, made the bed,
Baked a dozen loaves of bread.
Split some wood and lugged it in,
Enough to fill the kitchen bin,
Cleaned the lamps and put in oil,
Stewed some apples she thought might spoil,
Churned the butter, baked a cake,
Then exclaimed, "For Mercy's sake,
The calves have got out of the pen!"
Went out and chased them in again,
Gathered the eggs and locked the stable,
Returned to the house and set the table,
Cooked a supper that was delicious,
And afterwards washed all the dishes,
Fed the cat, sprinkled the clothes,
Mended a basket full of hose,
Then opened the organ and began to play,
"When You Come to the End of a Perfect Day."
-Anna Rees Henton

The Girl I Used to Be

I just had to share this poem with you.

“The Girl I Used To Be”by Rowena K. Lewis

She came tonight as I sat alone, the girl I used to be.
And she gazed at me with her earnest eye, and questioned reproachfully:
Have you forgotten the many plans and hopes that I had for you?
The great career, the splendid fame, all the wonderful things to do?
Where is the mansion of stately height, with all of its gardens rare?
The silken robes that I dreamed for you, and the jewels in your hair?
And as she spoke, I was very sad, for I wanted her pleased with me.
This slender girl from the shadowy past, the girl that I used to be.
So gently rising, I took her hand, and guided her up the stair
Where peacefully sleeping, my babies lay, innocent, sweet, and fair.
And I told her that these are my only gems, and precious they are to me;
That silken robe is my motherhood, of costly simplicity.
And my mansion of stately height is love, and the only career I know
Is serving each day in these sheltered walls, for the dear ones who come and go.
And as I spoke to my shadowy guest, she smiled through her tears at me.
And I saw that the woman that I am now, pleased the girl that I used to be.