Squirrels

Squirrel The leaves and branches of the oak
Flutter and spring,
I wonder why as there is no breeze,
The rainy morning has becalmed.

Then gray squirrels
Descend from the tree,
One, two, three.
They scamper away
Each in a different direction.

Only to return and leap
Up the trunk and out
Onto the ends of the branches,
Bouncing and swaying
Like children playing and swinging.

Now I see them biting off
Acorns and pouching them,
Working to acquire tasty nuts,
Before running back into the woods
To hide their treasures.

I never knew squirrels
Picked acorns,
Before, I had only seen them
Gathering from the ground.

Something new to me,
Delighted at the discovery
I filed this incident under ‘Squirrels’,
And sat still on the porch,
One quiet morning in October.

Cerita M. Hewett
October 23, 2015

Weaving (For Lenae & Collin)

weaving
On this bright October Saturday,
Horns flashed,
Drums rap-a-tap tapped,
The light breeze carried music.

As if alive,
It rolled like a crimson sunset wave
Turned back upon itself,
Weaved in and out,
Stretched forward and backward.

Forward, backward, diagonal,
Playing and marching,
Spreading wings then folding them,
Swelling and ebbing as an ocean,
Unfurling flags in unison,
A stirring tapestry upon a green field.

Cerita M. Hewett
October 18, 2015

Home Building

homeA family working together,
Caring for a house and yard,
Grow muscles and
Bind themselves together,
Singing, praying, caring,
Creating a unique life,
Living life,
Eating mixed up taco salad,
Roasting hot dogs and marshmallows,
Mowing, weeding, vacuuming,
Painting, papering, roofing,
Making a house a home,
Never to be forgotten,
Yet moving out and moving on,
Taking with them the lessons learned.

Cerita M. Hewett
Summer 2014

Spackling

spacklingI spackled in the boys’ room today,
Years after our boys ceased to lounge there,
Putting soft white plaster over tiny holes,
And smoothing it off with a small metal spatula,
Filling in all the cavities and mars in the pale blue walls,
Preparation, long over due, for painting the room.

Nail holes, pin holes, tack holes, clustered low,
Just about three feet up from the worn carpet,
Then a batch higher and denser at about four and a half feet,
And last of all holes grouped more sparsely at the six-foot level.

I don’t recall what they hung on those walls but,
I do remember the sweet smell of their freshly bathed bodies,
And the beguiling melody of
“Good night Mama.”

Cerita M. Hewett
Revised June 6, 2007

Digging Hole (for Holland & Jarom)

What is better than a
Digging hole for brothers?

Trucks, cars, graders,
Plastic army men, cowboys, Indians,
Spoons escaped from
A kitchen drawer.

Access to water!

Boys playing side by side
In the shade of a tree,
Constructing,
Deconstructing,
In the sand,
In the dirt,
In the muddy water.

Nothing!

Cerita M. Hewett
October 21, 2015

Woman of 1776

 Wlliamsburg, VirginiaO 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)

Blue Teeth

IMG_6088The first blueberries go
Plink, plink, plink,
But after the bottom of the
Pail is covered,
We can barely hear the
Soft plop, plop, plop.

The bushes lose their blues,
But our white teeth turn azure.
In the nearby rows,
The children pick, eat, and play.
The sun warms up,
So we pick on the shady side,
Plop, plop, plop, plop, plop.

At eleven o’clock we
We take off our hats,
Wipe our brows,
Weigh out.
Licking our blue teeth we start for home.
Sweetly ever so sweetly.
It is a good thing that
They only weigh the fruit.

Cerita M. Hewett
June 2014

Lessons From Leslie

lessonsI 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

Pond

pondThe 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

English Class

Daily Dose

Funny, Great, Friendly

We   learn   pronunciation

We   learn   a   lot   of   words

We   speak   a   lot   of   English

The     time     goes     by     fast

We feel the Spirit of Jesus Christ

   We go to our houses  feeling good!

 

Crockett Branch English Class
2015