The huge pine tree
Will easily hold
More than one nest.
It is large enough
For several nests.
Please build there
Not on the front porch!
Cerita M. Hewett
March 2015
Uncategorized
Fried Chicken
The two of us sat at the large conference table,
Ate fried chicken and cold slaw,
Talked over the day’s events,
Your piano work, my office challenges.
From the overhead windows
The late afternoon sun filtered down,
Shining over our supper,
Lighting our conversation.
Laughing from the freshness of
That half hour together,
We cleaned up the plastic spoons,
And paper plates.
No longer tired
I returned to my computer. . .
Glad you came.
Ruffled
When the wind ruffled the bird’s feathers
She turned to face the wind,
And hunched down a little to seem smaller,
But she didn’t fly this time,
She stayed facing the onslaught,
Steady on her perch,
Determined to hold her own,
‘Til the storm blew itself out.
Cerita Hewett
April 9, 2015
Conference Hymn
Our hearts were filled with joy today,
We listened, heard our Prophet say,
The test we have to pass on earth
Is will we follow and obey.
We know what Christ would have us do,
He spoke and showed us the way through,
We learn this path as day by day,
We study scriptures and we pray.
May we as Nephi hear and know,
And answer willingly “we go!”
With this true faith in Christ we live,
Then all God’s blessings He will give.
Cerita M. Hewett
April 7, 2013
Red Birds at Breakfast
While we were eating a late breakfast,
And I mean a late breakfast because it was already
Ten-thirty in the morning,
Two lively red birds came to dine on seeds
Hidden in the winter rye outside our window.
Their glowing scarlet was highlighted in the
Bright green of the grass,
There was no camouflage
Possible for them.
We munched cold cereal,
And they pecked for ten long minutes,
Then they flitted off to the cedar.
How easily we observed their every detail
Of wing, and breast, and tail.
And yet today I mostly remember the
Delightful feeling of enjoying red birds
Yesterday, at breakfast.
Cerita M. Hewett
Feb. 25, 2013
Revised 2014
Purple Poetry
Poetry is the royalty of written language,
So it must be purple,
Purple circles strung together,
Like a tangled silver slinky
Stretched unintentionally by a young child,
Revealing itself over time
With repeated vocal readings,
Untangling line by line,
Giving a fresh display of insight,
Still depending on the eye that is searching,
The different ears seeking the pleasure of sound
Over time, over time, over time,
Unmasking views and truths,
May you find it every day,
Wherever you go!
Cerita M. Hewett
(Revised Oct. 2014)
Robins
A flock of robins
Invaded our woods today.
They must be on their way North
As we don’t see them
Here in the summer.
They went straight to work
Gleaning and cleaning the forest floor.
I couldn’t hear their chattering
From my upstairs window,
But I could see their hunger
As they pecked, pecked, pecked.
Heads down pecking
Heads up watching
Exposing their burnt orange
Breasts to cloud muted light,
Bringing the hope of Spring on a
Cold rainy day.
Cerita M. Hewett
February 2015
Seen From My Window
Heralded by the great flapping wings,
And the raucous calls of a fat black crow,
The long slim black snake,
In broad daylight,
Raising its head high up from the ground,
Looking left and right,
Surveying proudly his kingdom,
Slithered slowly down the path,
Across the sand and into the short grass.
He disappeared silently,
Arrogantly,
Into the tall weeds of the woods.
There to hide and lie in wait,
For some small, unaware, simple creature
To pass his coil and in an instant strike,
Causing a squeak and demise.
Cerita M. Hewett
May 26, 2013
Macaroni and Young Chef
(My five year old grandson was making Macaroni and Cheese with his Dad and we sat down afterward to write this poem. Sometimes you just can’t stop poetry from popping out!)
Macaroni
Cheesy – Easy
Chewing, Stretching, Sliding
It is drippy and sticky
But I like it every day anyway!
by the Hewett Family
March 2015
Young Chef
Powdered cheese on the stovetop
Silver moon noodles on the floor
Milk spots on the counter
Finger prints on the bathroom door
Empty bowls on the table. . .
May I please have some more?
by Ed Hewett
March 2015
Saturday Night
Under the washer downstairs
Tugging at bolts,
Wiping grease, sweat, stale water
From your tired face,
While we watched Alaska,
And ate chocolate nut
Ice cream upstairs.
Checking on you,
Wishing you would come too,
But, you fixed and refixed,
Until the belt
Finally went on right,
And all the leaks were stopped,
Saturday night.
Cerita M. Hewett
March 7, 1997