Tracks in the Snow

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A poem for my grandchildren:

This morning from my window I saw tracks in the snow.

“Look!” I said to Momma, “Can we see where they go?”

“It’s cold outside!” she answered, “Are you sure you want to do that?”

“Oh, I do!” I said to Momma, “I’ll go get my coat and hat!”

So, I ran to the closet where we keep our winter clothes.

I pulled out boots and mittens plus a scarf to shield my nose.

With Momma bundled up like me, we stepped outside together.

So warmly we had dressed ourselves we didn’t mind the weather.

Tracks led us to the river, then up the rocky ridge,

through the brush and bramble and over the narrow bridge.

We heard a sound then turned to see a fawn and graceful doe

huddled close together under branches hanging low.

The baby deer lay on the ground curled up fast asleep

on a simple bed of crusty leaves where the snow was not as deep.

The doe leaped to attention watching every move we made,

but we were nice and quiet, so she wouldn’t be afraid.

I looked into her big brown eyes and softly said “Hello!”

“So, you’re the ones who left behind the tracks in the snow.”

As Momma took me by the hand, we slowly backed away

from the handsome gentle creatures who had surely made my day.

Across the bridge and through the brush, then up to the plateau,

we paused for just a moment to enjoy the view below.

So brightly the sun glistened that each snowflake was a jewel,

just like glitter on a picture that I had made at school.

Back home I shed my coat and hat. Somewhere I’d lost a mitten.

“Hot chocolate?” Momma asked me as she headed for the kitchen.

“Thanks”, I said to Momma when she handed me a cup.

It tasted great, but really, it’s her smile that warmed me up!

I sat down by the window just as I had done that morning

with thoughts of all we’d seen and done while we were out exploring.

I gazed down to the path where we had been not long ago.

“Look!” I said to Momma, “we made tracks in the snow!”

 

Always find joy in the little things, my dears!

with love,

Grammy

RDP: Bridge

Nancy Merrill Post a Day: The Things That Matter Most

Foto Friday #3

HE LOVES ME, HE LOVES ME NOT

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Summer arrived yesterday and with it, the blooming of one of my favorite flowers—the daisy. Daisies evoke the memory of plucking off petals one by one while reciting the phrase “he loves me” and “he loves me not”. This, according to my older-therefore-much-wiser sister, was an accurate prediction of a young man’s affection. It’s a good thing we had an abundance of daisies when we were growing up, as she and I would perform this whimsical little ritual over and over until we got the answers we wanted!

On Father’s Day

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On Father’s Day, I am thankful for the Dads who protect not only their daughters, but all the girls in the world by being men who are gallant and civil and respectful; Dads who take care of those whom they could easily suppress but wouldn’t dare—because they are Fathers! I am thankful for the Dads who set good examples for their sons by nurturing a willingness to help others, proving that love displays more strength than indifference does; Dads who walk the straight and narrow path of responsibility—because they are Fathers!

Proceed with Caution

So, Valentine’s Day was yesterday! Love is in the air…but proceed with caution!

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Is he in it just for sport?

Does he see you with cold eyes?

Does he have a heart that takes but never gives?

Does his ego tell him he’s the best there is?

Then, be careful, my dear

and stop playing games you’ll never win.

It simply isn’t worth it in the end!

PS – “HE” is the pronoun I used here, but “SHE” would have worked just as well!