COUNTDOWN: 60 Days to 60

Today is Saturday, July 22, 2017 and it is the 19th day until my 60th Birthday.

The air coming in through my office window is cool as I write these words.

The sun is already up for the day as I have risen for the day, as well.

I would say that one of my favourite things to do is to write poetry.

I will share some of the poems that I have written over the years.

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“GREAT EXPECTATIONS”

To Windthorst I came late in the fall,

With great expectations — or so I recall,

I looked forward to seeing new faces in class,

And taking the subjects I knew I should pass.

My impressions are fixed now, it currently seems

That totally false was each of these dreams,

With all the boys, I’d thought it’d be heaven,

But it hasn’t worked out; so back to Glenavon.

The girls are prettier than I’d thought they would be;

Though none but a fool could prefer them to me!

(My vanity comes from the pressures of rhyme —

You know that I’m modest all of the time!)

My rhyme is near finished, my brainpower low,

My thoughts have diminished, and so I shall go.

Life, bring excitement!  Life, bring romance!

Life, bring me something!  Windthorst last chance!

Written as I entered Grade Twelve in Windthorst, Saskatchewan.

Grandma sold the farm in the summer/fall of 1974 and we moved to the Village of Windthorst.

I wrote some poetry for the school paper.

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“FROM DREAM TO REALITY”

I had a dream late last night,

Of sparkling white sandy beaches,

Palm trees swaying in a sweet scented breeze,

Of clear blue skies and water, clear blue,

Of monkeys, elephants and parrots, too.

When I awoke and looked all around,

It was a dream, so I had found.

The picture is somewhat sadly different.

My sandy beaches are cluttered with garbage.

The palm trees have been removed, replaced with malls.

The breeze smells bitter — terribly so,

The monkeys, elephants where did they go?

We have come too far, too fast,

The signs have been there,

But we did not see, due to our hungry greed

From horse drawn sleighs to gas powered cars,

From tin and glass to Styrofoam and plastic jars,

From all that technology we still didn’t learn

That we’re literally burning our planet — our Earth.

The time has come to join together,

Mothers, Fathers, Sons and Daughters,

If we learn to reduce, recycle and reuse

We can save our planet —

The gem in our universe.  Our Earth!

Written for Amanda’s school play at W.H. Ford School

By Carol Lewis on November 28th, 1990

This is so bizarre that I wrote this twenty years ago for my daughter’s school play.  It is even more prevalent today.

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“BEYOND THE SUNSET”

The sun melts into hues of gold and pink,

as the sky darkens.

A peaceful sigh, as she closes her eyes.

She sees the roses in her garden.

The fragrance soft but strong in the air.

She sees her children and theirs.

She feels her husband’s touch.

She remembers times gone by.

It has been a great life!

She is not afraid,

The time has come.

The Lord extends his hand,

And she follows him home.

Written by Carol Lewis on September 29/30, 1998 for my Grandma Stella.

I went to live with my paternal Grandmother when I was just 16 and she was 72.

We did well together for the most part considering the age difference.

I miss her and think of her often.

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“Dear Mom”,

Sitting here thinking back,

One moment ago,

Sometimes only days, then back a dozen years.

The memories flood on in,

There were happy times and sad,

Crazy wonderful and bad.

I think of all the voices of family and friends, chattering in my head.

Everyone has a special story, a thought for me to hear.

How hard it is to say that last good-bye.

I remember your laughter, your firmness and the way you spoke your mind.

The Love you shared with others, your charm, that wit, that mind!

We will always wonder, why your time with us was short.

But you gave us all love and understanding, you always believed in us.

Pointed us in the right direction.

Then quietly and quickly moved on,  to watch down over us – our Guardian Angel!

There will never be another “Jeannie”, another “Granny”, another Mom, another Friend like you.

Mom, there is no doubt in my mind that you were one of a kind!

You touched so many hearts that is evident by the stories I have heard,

and by the tears that have and will be shed.

Mom,

No one Loved You More

No one Loved You Better

We all Love You the Same.

Written by Carol Lewis (November 1993) to honour our  “Mother” who passed away in November of 1993.

I miss my Mom and think of her often.  When I think about how easy it is to communicate with family and friends who live at a distance, I am utterly amazed.  It would have been so great if back in 1993, and prior we could have sat down at the computer and SKYPED each other.  So if you are thinking about me or your Mom or your best friend, and they live at a distance, take advantage of the free download and start to SKYPE.  Between Facebook, E-mail, and SKYPE there is no reason to miss out on the days and years of our loved ones.  Post some photos.  Send some love.  Stay in contact.   To all my friends and family out there, I love you and think of each and every one of you each and every day.  Really I do.  I send my love and thoughts of good health and abundance.  Take care everyone…..

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“IF I HAD KNOWN”

Looking at photos of us when we were kids.

It seems like only yesterday,

but it was a lifetime ago.

Things have changed.

We were five now we’re four.

How I long for those days.

When we were all together.

When playing school, all sitting in a row … I’d be the teacher…

Running about the yard playing in a nearby slough looking for tadpoles …

Playing in the dirt ….

Imagining driving to far off places in that old black car, and eating Mom’s homemade french fries and pumpkin pie.

Playing hide and seek and watching Disney on Sundays.

Was what we did, when we were just kids.

Now we’re grown,

Time has past.

If only I had known,

We would be four and not five.

I would have taken your hand.

I would have told you how much I loved you every day.

I would have loved you better.

I would have visited you more often.

I should have tried.

I would have known your pain.

I would have understood.

I would have known your favourite song.

I would have known your favourite colour.

I would have known you better.

Now we’re four and it’s too late

For me to take your hand.

To share your pain, and to comfort you.

I wished that I had knew you better.

Between the pain and the laughter.

You were a man, and I remember the boy

The little boy with a zest for life.

The little boy that always seemed to find a way ….. now that’s our secret….

That irresistible little guy that made me smile.

The little boy with such a big heart.

That much I did know when the boy became the man.

I feel that I let you down, but it is too late

I wished that I knew your favourite song.

Or what you made you cry late at night.

Why the time passed so fast.

Now we’re four instead of five

What did you think?  Your thoughts?

I wished that I knew.

If I had, I had only known  the man, not just the boy.

Written by Carol Yvonne Lewis, January 8th, 2010

I miss my brother …… somedays it feels like only yesterday that we were saying good-bye and others it feels like an eternity.  Often times we take for granted that our siblings will live forever and most certainly if they are younger than we are, longer.  Reach out ….. say hello …… even if you cannot physically seem them ….. phone them, text them, email them, live chat, SKYPE with …… do not miss out on an opportunity.  

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Always, Carol

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