Mama You’ve Done Well

May 11, 2024poetry, womenElizabeth Nourse, Erwin Jones, mothersGretchenJoanna

My only quibble with this poem is that the author essentially gives credit to his mother for thinking him into being. What part she did have in being his first cause, it was by an act, involving two people, and not a thought. God is the one Who formed us in secret, in our inward parts, and we praise Him for that, and thank Him for our mothers and all the many things they did, and refrained from doing, to cooperate with God in giving us life. ❤

MAMA YOU’VE DONE WELL

I was first, a thought in your precious mind,
Until I became a living cell.
In the darkness of your motherly womb,
It took me nine long months to be fully groomed.
And Mama, you’ve done well.

After all the suffering and pain
When you labored like hell,
You took me home with pride and joy
Knowing you’ve given birth to a healthy little boy.
And Mama, you’ve done well.

You comforted me when I cried,
And scolded me when I lied.
You didn’t yell.
You kept me warm,
In your loving arms,
And gave me enough to eat,
And taught me that I must never cheat.
And Mama, you’ve done well.

You took me to school
You didn’t want me to become a fool.
You taught me to count and spell.
You taught me a tree started as a seed,
And if I want to become great I must learn to read.
And Mama, you’ve done well.

You taught me about good and evil,
And that I must respect everyone,
Especially old people.
And I must pray to God,
And read my Bible.
And Mama, you’ve done well.

And now that I’m a man
Handsome and strong
With much to tell
I can honestly say
Each and everyday
Thank you Mama, you’ve done well.

-Erwin Jones, (21st century) Belize

A sudden whirl of green.

May 10, 2024nature, poetry, treesRobert Penn Warren, seasons, spring, WisconsinGretchenJoanna

I don’t think I’ve ever experienced such a dramatic springtime as here in Wisconsin, the sort of place where winter covers everything with snow, and the plants have to do their thing fast once the warm winds begin to blow.

These small flowering trees seem to have calculated how many buds and flower petals can possibly be squeezed out of their sap — then they produce a few hundred more for good measure.

A day or two later, the leaves are pushing the blossoms aside, saying, “Our turn! Gotta hurry!”

DECIDUOUS SPRING

Now, now the world
All gabbles joy like geese, for
An idiot glory the sky
bangs. Look!
All leaves are new, are
Now, are
Bangles dangling and
Spangling, in sudden air
Wangling, then
Hanging quiet, bright.

The world comes back, and again
Is gabbling, and yes,
Remarkably worse, for
The world is a whirl of
Green mirrors gone wild with
Deceit, and the world
Whirls green on a string, then
The leaves go quiet, wink
From their own shade, secretly.

Keep still, just a moment, leaves.

There is something I am trying to remember.

~ Robert Penn Warren

Each morning the goslings by the lake appear to have doubled in size. Clouds race across the deep blue sky, darken and thicken, and pour down rain. The anemone buds droop, the sun blazes out, and the white flowers open gladly to take in the rays.

Pearl and I took the dogs to the dog park where they had a fine romp, and I admired more trees and flowers.

Earlier this week we drove to Sheboygan for dinner, and all along the road I got to see lots of handsome farms with beautiful silos, surrounded by bright green fields. On the way home I was quite taken with some stripey clouds.

Everyone and everything is gabbling joy.

Wisconsin and Wedding

May 9, 2024family, nature, treesgrandchildren, spring, tea-parties, weather, weddings, WisconsinGretchenJoanna

My grandson, whose nickname on my blog is Philosopher, was married in a joyous and God-glorifying ceremony last week. I am lingering in Wisconsin in the afterglow for a few more days, as other friends and family gradually depart for their homes, as far away as Ireland.

Springtime weather with its unpredictable changes has been a challenge and a delight by turns. In my choices as to what to pack in my suitcase, I had erred on the summery side of the season, which today is working out fine. But while the bride and groom were saying “I do,” we were also witnessing a terrific downpour of rain outside, and clattering hail. It was wonderfully dramatic.

Also dramatic was all the action at the reception, while dancing and playing laser tag.

My daughter Pearl’s neighborhood is like a huge park or arboretum, with every sort of huge species of trees, both evergreen and deciduous, the latter in varying stages of bloom and leafing out. Brilliant is a good word for the views, whether one is Irish or not.

In the nearby lake, we can watch Canada geese mothers with a parade of goslings paddling behind. Robins tweet in the trees as they look down admiringly on Pearl’s tulips and daffodils.

Lora built bird’s nests from twigs…

…and the hunting dogs spied a rabbit:

It was my great-granddaughter’s fifth birthday, and she received gifts from the family, as well as flower girl gifts including an umbrella that she loved.

The day after the wedding featured corn hole, a bubble gun, tree swing, and running on the grass, while most adults relaxed over drinks and good conversation.

One day we walked on the edge of Lake Michigan and Clara enjoyed burrowing in the sand.

Yesterday Maggie, home from college in California for her brother’s wedding and for the summer, decided to make tea for her mother, two grandmothers, and great aunt. It was a feast!

It’s all been a superabundance of love and celebrating, with scores of good people, most of whom feel like my people, whether blood relations or not. I still have several days left to spend with a few of them, and then I’ll be flying home and getting ready for another family wedding-reunion. ✈️

To God be thanks and all the glory.