Family reunion – remembering a bygone day
Of childhood experiences and places we stayed
Aunts, cousins, mothers and an in-law or two
For a brief reuniting for hours too few
But the love and connections
Rekindled and affirmed
We depart with new memories
And secrets we’ve learned
Padre
She sat there seemingly innocent and pure
But Grandmother asked just to be sure –
“Sweetie, has your maiden-flower been plucked?”
“Nan, are you asking if I’ve been f*cked?”
Her grandmother seemed shocked by the phrase
“What’s wrong Nan? That’s how we say it these days.
And as far as the act, I didn’t say I had or I wouldn’t.”
Nan piped in “You’re so young you shouldn’t.”
“Don’t you thing that should be up to me?
After all I’m legal, single and free.”
Padre
They say there is an order to things
Seasons pass and chapters end
But when it comes to human life
Our hearts – the change does rend
We are in our spirits sore
A sadness upon us does descend
But God’s love for us still abides
And in time will help us mend
Padre
Written at the passing of my father
Mother and daughter
Standing side by side
Which wreath to buy
Trying to decide
“This one’s too little”
“This one to wide”
“One with a pink ribbon –
I just can’t abide”
Finally all tight and green
A pine twisted circle
On their door can be seen
Padre
The comfort
Of a loved one’s hugs
Is never a puerile thing –
Though a parent’s arms
May memories of childhood’s
Peace and tranquillity bring.
And a lover’s warm embrace
An adult world can help you –
Bravely face –
Moments united against all fears
Their cheek against your face
Padre
Prompt’s: Student’s word of the day – Puerile
Fandango’s FOWC with Fandango — Comfort
In a cabin in the woods –
As from Summer to Autumn time bends
The cotton blossom has all been picked –
Leaving but bare brown stems.
The family together – safe secure
With trust in God and one another
The changing seasons brings no fear
And as the sun begins to set – heading to night,
As the night owl begins her evening flight
Our family hold each other warm and tight
Padre
Paint Chip Poetry #43: Prompt – To Night by Percy Bysshe Shelley. “Our paint chip words and phrases are cabin in the woods, deviled eggs, cotton, Aquarius, blossom, showtime, and night owl. The bonus angel card is trust . . . . Use however many of these words and phrases you want. I don’t plan to use them all this week, just to mix things up a bit.”
They say there are the haves
And yet others that have yachts
Then there are the most of us
That are the have nots
But if that is the way we measure our net wealth
Aren’t we devaluing things like love and our good health?
Look at your children as they go about their play
Do they know you love them at the end of the day?
It isn’t about the computer screens,
Or the toys with which they play
It is hearing your encouragement,
And feeling the security within the home where they stay
It need not be a mansion, or stately manor vast
It just needs to be a loving home,
In which that love does last
Padre
——–
I don’t know what they are so upset about. It’s not like it’s unusual these days, Gregor fumed to himself. Family traditions are stupid anyway. Isn’t this a free country?
But upset they were at his abandoning of a tradition that dated back to even before family’s arrival from the old country over a century before. Gregor Gregorson had arrived with his father back in 1904, and set up a small butcher’s shop near the town centre. Ever since then, the family had maintained its identity as Gregorson’s Fine Meats. Six generations of Gregor Gregorson’s had provided the community with the highest quality meat.
Gergor the Ninth, now a father himself, had thrown the family into chaos. Not only had he married a vegan, but now he was stepping away from the family firm to open a green grocer’s, of all things. If that was not enough of a shock, he made matters worse with his son’s name. Yes, how could the family ever forgive him for naming the family’s future head – Gregory?
Padre
MorgueFIle March2020 b8609bb286958f154ff5c03730f61fc4
“I really don’t believe this,” Barbara said in exasperation.
“Just keep looking,” her husband, Dan urged.
“I am,” she snapped, her irritation at the situation rising.
“Are you sure this is the right area?” Dan’s sister, Karen asked.
“Yes, Honey, it’s right where Jeff Junior said,” her partner assured her.
“Well we better hurry up,” Barbara huffed. “The sun’s setting and the tide’s coming in. I can’t believe Little Jeff would have buried his own cousin in the sand like this, and then leave her!”
(84 words)
Padre
FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER
Pixabay
Some things they say in a family runs
Great bakers, intuition, or having green thumbs
Be it mommy’s key lime or grandma’s hydrangeas,
or the mystical talent for just knowing strangers
But the best inheritance of all
Is being taught the good taste
To eat banana split ice cream
And filling our face
Padre
Using a title word – gratitude, the terms – banana split, key lime, mystical, and grandma’s hydrangeas, and the theme “It runs in the family”
Padre's Ramblings 