A Dress of Pink

In December, one of the Twelve Days of Writing prompts was to write a 20 line poem about a memorable event in your life. This was my daughter, Bre's, creation. I, on the other hand, did not attempt to write a poem, no, no, no. 

                              A Dress of Pink

               A dress of pink, a suit of black

Boston, a ballroom, a dinner, a dance

I was hosting, you were my date

        - we got lost, we were late.

I was the senior class vice president

We'd been planning this for months

You'd been planning something, too

        - a big surprise, I never knew.

A buzz of excitement, a flurry of people

Over three hundred college seniors

One final night of grand celebration

        - good-bye friends, soon graduation.

We ate quickly then joined the dance mob

You pushed us through to the middle

I wondered why we had to squeeze in on this song

         - the crowd parted, you were gone.

A song, a voice from across the room

You were singing to me, I was flabbergasted

You got down on one knee, pulled out a ring

        - I said YES! Oh, what a memorable thing!

Dan popping the big question to Bre, April 22, 2005

What's Up in 2012?

New Year's resolutions? Nah. The only resolution I ever make is to make no New Year's resolutions! I keep 'em every year! Goals are another thing entirely.

This year I hope to have my first novel manuscript completed and ready to submit, along with my synopsis, to an agent. I am going to enter the first chapter of the novel to the Genesis Contest through American Christian Fiction Writers. I can't mention the name of it until May, but the premise is: Can a man love three women at the same time? Ben will have to do some deep soul-searching to find out the answer, hopefully before it is too late.

After that I want to get going on a second novel, Summer on the Summit,

and a novella, Never Too Late. 

AND all that squeezed in with two new grandchildren on the way as well as each of their sibling brothers!  WHOO-EE!! Oh, yeah, and I work full-time, direct our 7-person church choir, run the Wed. kids' program and circus, and lead ladies' Sunday School and am the church clerk.  But you know what, I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Oh, and don't forget the husband. He deserves some time in there, too.

All in all, don't call me bored or tell me to get a life-I have one and it's abundantly blessed.  I hope all of you have an equally "cup-runneth-over" year.

Beauty to Behold

     I have traveled to many places in the USA and around the world. I’ve seen the soft heather-covered highlands of Scotland, and the splendid golden Palace of Versailles; the immense structure of the Eiffel Tower, and the lights of Piccadilly Circus. I’ve seen the tranquil turquoise water of Cancun on the Caribbean Sea, and the startling beauty of a sunset over vast open spaces in south Texas. I’ve experienced the bustling city of Brussels in Belgium, and meandered along the peaceful St. John River in New Brunswick. I’ve dug my toes into white sand on the south shore of Prince Edward Island and into red sand on the north shore. I’ve traveled to or through twenty-two different states, but the most beautiful place on earth to me is a certain paint-worn camp in a cove on Messalonskee Lake in Oakland, Maine.

     Built by my great-grandfather about 1927 it is surrounded by ancient pines that tower 70’ over the camp buildings.  The beauty of this place is found in the charming drape of memories of years past: Mom sitting outside at the picnic table tole painting a wastebasket or a lamp shade, two pre-teen friends sitting on a rock on the point that juts out from one side of the cove, singing their lungs out to the music pulsing from the public beach juke box across the pond, siblings racing each other down the packed dirt camp road to the train tracks at the first sound of a train whistle to wave to the man in the caboose, the whole family in PJ’s curled up in various rattan or wooden rocking chairs listening to Mom read Around the World in 80 Days, a 4” thick carpet of rusty colored pine needles, wild blueberries, early morning dips while the mist rose off the surface of the crystal-smooth lake.

     New memories add richness and texture to the drape: a grandson playing in the water with blue and green foam noodles, solitary loon calls echoing off the rocky shores, showing old movies on a sheet tacked up to a beam on the porch, laughing over my son-in-law’s fall from grace as he collapses in an old pink chaise lounge chair onto the dock, catching 3” sunfish and 12” pickerel, a large family of ducks skirting the edge of the pond looking for the best place to stop and bob for a snack, voices traveling across the lake by the light of a full moon, a lone bald eagle perched high up on the tip of a pine scouting for his next meal.

     You can have the world, but give me Cozy Cove Camp; it’s the most beautiful place in the world.

Day 3 of the Twelve Days of Writing prompt: Describe the most beautiful place in the world.

12/14/11                                                                                                                                                   
446 words