Sunday March 25, 2012 Sunday Whirl #49 and Sunday Scribbling #312

Image from internet – Pams clip art

The Joy of Sweeping

A very small girl

Loved to sweep

Could create a

Playhouse anywhere

A world of her own



One favorite place

Was under a large tree

Which gave shade from

The hot Texas sun



It was just outside her

Mother’s kitchen door

A child’s joy

Transform space

With dolls and toys



She was a tiny alchemist

A craftsman

She could gauge

The exact space needed



Still today the juices flow

When considering space

Tender considerations

Like the child of long ago

What is needed



Acumen is projected

Sprinkled with whimsy

Oiled with love

She picks up

Her broom

And sweeps away

The acid of her life

Until all is supple once more


Sunday Scribblings #312  Prompt:  “The Rest of the Story”

The Rest of the Story

You open green almond eyes

Hold me in your gaze

Ask for the rest of the story

But until death the story is not complete

We will have to wait and see

It’s been no disappointment so far

You tell me what you think is needed

It didn’t occur to me

The story would end so soon

Or would end that way…

Sunday August 7, 2011 A Handful of Stones/Sunday Whirl/ Carry On Tuesday

The rain turned a lovely shade of pink
“Walking Rain”
Sunset of Gold

A handful of stones: Several daily observations.

The late afternoon becomes the master’s canvas.  In the last image there is the moon in the sky and it seems, below there is a light acting as echo.  It seems to be something about the “joining of heaven and earth.”  Native people could see this when they came to the edge of a stream and saw the sparkling mica in the water, they said it  was “joining heaven and earth.”


Sunday Wordle

Little Girl’s Favorite Thing

Was to sweep

In the morning she would begin sweeping

Swept the sun on its journey through the day

Swept the cement walk

Swept away the rusty nails

Swept the path for crawling prophets

Tenderly she swept away the torment of scars

Made notes of all that needed to be swept

One day she swept herself away


Carry On Tuesday #117 Prompt:  Rupert Brooke’s poem.  The opening line “If I should die, think only this of me.”

Woman Sweeps a Path

She Sweeps a Path of  Her Own

The poem began

“If I should die”

And I thought

Not “if” but “when” I die

For I will

It is so for each of us

The day draws nearer

I hope you will

“Think this of me”

She walked a narrow path

Of her own choosing

Followed no words of man

Gave her best

To all she met on the trail

Asked no more than

She was willing to give

Looked for beauty in each day

Her heart full of joy

Lived each day in gratitude

For the many gifts of life

Especially for you