It would be nice to take a walk
With you in our woods today
Among the pines,
Oaks,
Sassafras,
Sweet gum,
Dogwood.
The pathways wind
Gently through the trees,
Who have on their most
Elegant fall dresses,
The air is crispy cool.
I think we would enjoy the walk
And once again some time together.
Cerita M. Hewett
November 23, 2014
The odd shaped pool was
Large enough for good swimming,
The water clear and cool,
Not cold,
We swam for thirty minutes,
Roger even dived a couple of times,
I also did a few
Aerobic exercises in the water.
Maggie said it made her
Feel like she was twenty,
It is true,
To feel twenty,
Just go swimming,
Everything seems to
Work right while in the water,
The joints, the muscles,
Even the brain and heart.
On land I am seventy,
But in the water,
Twenty!
Cerita M. Hewett
June 25, 2009
O woman of 1776 what was your pain, your travail,
What mighty labor did you perform,
When freedom’s child was born?
We know of Martha Washington how she came to Valley Forge,
Of Jane Adams’ sacrifice and her kindly charm,
But what of the women of ‘76 in the cottage or on the farm?
How did you farm with your man at war,
Did you milk with the boys away,
Who sheared the long wool from your sheep on shearing day?
Could you send the news of the baby born,
The daughter or son so fair,
Did you choose a name he would have liked, if he’d been there?
As you knit the socks and cared for the child,
Did you long for the battle line,
Could you imagine the glory of America free in time?
What news did you hear from Valley Forge,
Or the river Delaware,
Was the battle won or lost and how did your loved one fare?
Who helped you open the shop each morn,
Who sold the goods, counted the pay,
Did you sweep the floor before you “closed” for the day?
As you lighted the lamps when the night was near,
Could you hear the cannon roar,
Were you trembling to know how close they came to your family door?
What did your heart feel day on day,
Did it hold both fear and faith,
How did you bear the somber news of a dear one’s wound or death?
On the first of the week as you went to your church,
Did you sing and think and pray,
Did your heart cry out to Him all through the Sabbath day?
There’s not much written about you my dear,
The history pages are thin,
But when men fight for freedom true, the women must help to win!
Oh woman of 1776 you minded the shop and the farm,
You loved and cared for the children small,
You worked, you prayed, you did it all!
So when he came if that he could,
That loved one all battle worn,
He found you and the children, safe at home.
Cerita M. Hewett
July 1976 (revised 2015)
We love rain in desert Arizona.
The smell as it quiets the dust,
Bringing a coolness to the sky and city,
Seeing it soak and steam on the sidewalks,
Feeling wetness as we stretch our fingers out
To touch tiny moist raindrop miracles.
Rain, noble rain!
In Arizona,
In June.
Cerita M. Hewett
June 5, 2015
Revised July 6, 2015
I don’t know how many hours you sat
Beside our children at our old upright,
The one with missing key tops,
Listening to them struggle through
Their pieces for the week,
Pieces they sometimes practiced,
Still you taught the what they
Were ready to learn,
Making it fun,
No matter their talent or preparation,
Helping them to love music,
Affirming them
Not condemning their feeble attempts,
Coming to our house week after week,
Letting us work off the lessons
Or pay as we could,
Giving our children music when it was needed,
Not when we could afford it,
Music to last a lifetime,
Music for the good times and the bad,
Music written on their souls because
It was taught with love,
Cerita M. Hewett
December 2002
The daisy with its golden sun center
And white radiating petals,
His light and eternal knowledge.
The daffodils first blooms,
Of the first spring for all mankind,
When He arose and came forth.
The rose with the sweet fragrance of
Life, not of the tomb,
His glorious resurrection.
Well then, all things remind me,
Trucks pulling heavy loads
His cross.
Bucket loaders
Lifting dirt and rocks to higher places,
His lifting of our sins.
Cars speeding down the straight away,
The eternal path, narrow, but well-marked
By His treading feet.
Graders moving rocks aside,
Smoothing the way,
His gentle voice calming hearts.
Airplanes soaring up and over mountains,
His lifting, climbing,
Carrying all who come to him upward.
Yes, all things can remind us of Him,
When we look through the lens of spiritual lives
At mortality.
Cerita M. Hewett
September 20, 2015
The Savior in Gethsemane,
And on the cross of Calvary,
Paid all my debts,
And set me free.
By this great gift I surely go,
Forward and upward day by day,
To live, to serve, to see my way
Back to my Father’s home.
With gratitude I bow my head,
And now remember what Christ said,
For all mankind my blood I shed,
Come follow me, rise from the dead.
Cerita M. Hewett
March 28, 2013
I love my mother.
Her sparkling, laughing, blue eyes often read,
She easily made the most wonderful bread,
She knew how to listen to what I said.
I love my gray sweater.
Soft, warm, and worn,
Pulled over my head looking old and forlorn,
I’ll keep on wearing it though it is torn.
I love the color blue.
On white Florida sand, the azure gulf rises,
Blue skies, blueberry pie, Roger’s blue eyes,
And blue butterflies.
I love to go to the mountains to roam.
In summer away from our hot Texas home,
Wading in cold streams won’t cause me to moan,
Though building rock dams can chill one to the bone.
I love children.
Tall, short, skinny, fat,
Those who giggle, cry, and pout,
The runners, the jumpers, and the sitters about.
I love reading and writing.
Learning from poems, stories, and books,
I like to see how my ideas look,
Written on a page of my very own book.
I love baked potatoes.
Covered with butter, chives, and sour cream,
Topped with cheese, chili, olives, it will seem,
Like something that came from your very best dream.
I love Roger sweet and true.
Sailing on the lake so blue
Working with an untried crew,
Always, always, making do.
Cerita M. Hewett
About 1994 revised 2002
The pond,
Built with his hands and a
Heart full of love,
Draws raccoons and fox to drink from it,
Allows minnows and frogs a swimming place,
With rocks, large, rough, black and orange,
Making sunning places for turtles, geckos, and people,
While still water provides a reflecting surface
For tall old weathered trees,
And small young bushes.
Its little waterfall
Bubbles and splashes with living water,
Available to all who come seeking it.
Cerita M. Hewett
September 21, 2015
You brought a heart-shaped box of chocolates,
I don’t remember you doing this before,
It was the perfect gift this year
After so much sacrifice and service.
I opened it,
We smelled its richness,
We read all the descriptions of each specialty,
Peanut cluster, mint, caramel, pecan, vanilla nugget,
Then I suggested we each pick one to eat,
You remarked, “I bought them for you.”
I answered, “Eating alone is no fun.”
We each ate three,
Laughing, reveling, declaring their goodness,
Savoring the shared valentine moment.
Reluctantly we closed the glossy lid,
I washed the supper dishes in the glow of
Our heart-felt box of chocolate happiness.
Cerita M. Hewett
Feb. 14, 2013
Revised 2014