Why Kids Love Halloween

Pumpkin Patches,
We wander around and pick our own pumpkin.

Knives,
We take a knife in hand and carve holes.

Fire,
We put candles inside and light them.
The glow they give off in the dark is magical.

Costumes,
We dress up like someone we are not and parade the neighborhood with friends and family.

Darkness,
We go out after dark to run, walk, talk, and play.

Time,
We spend a whole evening with Mom and Dad, brothers, sisters, and friends.

CANDY,
We collect a year’s supply of suckers, bubble gum,
bite sized chocolate bars, jaw breakers, and
Reese’s Pieces.

Why some parents dread Halloween,
All of the above except
Spending time with their kids.

Cerita M. Hewett
October 30, 2015

Solo S’mores

I made s’mores in the
Microwave today,
By myself,
Graham crackers—chocolate—marshmallows,
Leftovers from a family picnic,
Though I admit to buying more chocolate.

It took only milliseconds
For the marshmallows to swell and soften,
The chocolate to wobble and spread,
All the ingredients were present
For the anticipated sweetness.

Yet there was not much satisfaction,
Without red coals burning,
Marshmallow flame outs,
Children laughing,
Grown-ups talking,
Cool evening air,
And each of you there!

Cerita M. Hewett
October 2008

Home Building

A 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

Unopened

The two long stemmed,
White rose buds,
I was given in the temple,
Stood in my catsup bottle vase,
For several days,
Improving our apartment with
Their delicate beauty.

One of them unfolded,
Little by little and let forth
A lovely delicate perfume,
Then dropped her head,
Her yellow center seeds and
Soft petals gradually fell upon the table.

The other stayed as a bud,
She never opened so I tried,
To inspire her with fresh water,
And a new clean cut along her stem,
But she refused to open,
Gradually growing brown,
First around the edges and then her center,
Until I gave her up to the waste basket.

Remembering both the fully opened all giving ose,
And the brown holding back unfulfilled bud,
Who both expired,
I wonder at our opened
Or unopened hearts, gifts, powers,
That bless or never fully develop
To gladden our lives and others.

Cerita M. Hewett
Sept. 28, 2009

Spackling

I 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

Woman of 1776

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)

Lessons From Leslie

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

Through Jarom’s Eyes

My mama let me

Play at dish washing,

Dig dirt and sand,

Mix water with dirt,

Stir cookies,

Roll down a grassy hill,

Splash in puddles,

Run in the rain,

Blow bubbles in my milk,

Pick dandelions,

Bang a pot drum,

Taste salt and sugar,

Smell cinnamon and mint leaves,

And pat the cat.

Mama read books to me,

Washed my clothes,

Helped me pray,

Sang lullabies.

I love my mama!

Cerita M. Hewett
October 30, 2015

Knowing

There is a difference between
Knowing with the mind
And knowing with the heart.

For the Lord has told us
He will teach us in our hearts
And in our minds.

Our thoughts and feelings become
So intertwined it is often hard to tell
Which is thought and which is feeling.

Together they act as a duet,
For they are welded to each other
By the Savior’s love.

Cerita M. Hewett
September 21, 2015

Reminders

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

PineyWoodsPoet

a winding walk in the woods

love