My grandma was a clipper and a saver of clippings from magazines and newspapers. She liked poetry and writings of musings. She saved many of these for scrapbooks but some were tucked away in boxes or books or drawers. I have run across some of these in the past few years as I have kept and gone through her sewing kits and some of the boxes of little treasures she kept that I now have.
Grandma made her presence known to me just last week. It was on her birthday in fact. Just goes to show that there is something about a spirit that is out there reminding us of the important things in our lives. This find I came across is a newspaper clipping from the Sioux Falls Argus Leader newspaper. Like most newspapers, back in the day it published a much wider variety of articles and what would be considered 'fluff' by today's tight budget standards of what it important.
The clipping is called Portraits by John C. Metcalfe. I googled his name and found he was a writer who started first as an FBI agent. Interesting how the paths we start out on diverge into many directions. This writing of his is titled, "Wondering". I can see why grandma liked it. She was good at remembering those who have passed on and this so much reminds me of her now and of all the people I have known and loved who have passed on. Here it is in its entirety:
Wondering
I wonder if you think of me
When night is drawing near
And in the shadows of your room
The walls around you disappear
I wonder if your quiet thoughts
of only me are anymore
When in the silent velvet blue
The moon is tapping at your door
I wonder if the twinkling stars
That dangle from the clouds above
Remind you of my whispered words
In promise of eternal love
I wonder if the yellow light
That breaks upon the early dawn
Still holds a tender memory
For now so long I have been gone
I wonder if you dream of me
When cloudless skies are baby blue
Because across each day and night
My thoughts are constantly of you.
© 1961 Field Enterprise, Inc
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I like that I seem to have inherited an appreciation from grandma, even though recent, for poetry. I also inherited her interest in art and drawing and painting. I have long done drawing and painting and now have turned to writing and poetry as an outlet for my thoughts these days.
I have written many poems mostly personal for my Dear Man(DM). Most of these are based in new discoveries about myself and my feelings about our lives together.
Two of the poems that I can share are simple. I feel like my sophistication as a poet is infantile. I can't say that it will ever mature either; but the ideas keep coming to me so I write them down for him and for us.
First is a Haiku, which, as everyone knows is a basic form of poetry that even beginners can master.
It is simple, but for me expands on a true breakthrough of how I react to someone really looking into my eyes all the way to my soul:
Eyes
Eyes look into mine
Seeing me as no one has
I learn to look back
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And in the last few days, I've been lucky enough to have learned so much more about DM because he opens up and speaks to me like no one has before. Here is how I put it into words:
Dreams
He tells me his dreams- an amazing thing!
To share thoughts with others is a daring, rare scheme.
Surprising - Delightful - Vivid with color,
A rich treasure never given me by another.
The gift of his insights cannot be forgotten
Born in heart's midnight, not easily gotten.
It comes from his mind, it is spoken with breath
Now abides in my heart and held tight in soul's depth
Thanks Grandma, and happy birthday. Love, Marsha
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