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Anything, everything, something or nothing:
Some will get.
Some will give.
Some need.
Some need not.
Some fear.
Some fear not.
Some want.
Some want not.
Some will love.
Some love not.
Some hate.
Some hate not.
Some dream
Some dream not
Some create
Some create not
The choice is ours;
which will it be:
a dreamer, a lover
a hater or creator?
I choose to be a dreamer,
a lover
a creator of art.
This is what I choose to be.
I choose to be the best of everything:
The best I can do
The best I can be
The best I can help
The best I can care
The best of everything, everywhere.
'Tis my choice is to share with you:
To share my thoughts
To share my feelings
To share my friendship
To share my art
To share all things with my friend.
Some will share their heart, so full
and be all the better for it.
Some will share lives, so blessed
with peace and joy,
and be all the better for it.
Some day peace will be for all.
Some day we will realize
we are all the same
in our hearts and our soul,
and love one another
as God has meant us to be.
Some will reach out with random acts of kindness,
touching so many lives as they do.
I choose to live positively with love for all.
choosing not to put blame or judge others.
God's word is what I try to live my life by.
How great to serve an awesome God!
We will celebrate Christ Jesus' birth,
The true reason for this season.
Some will have different beliefs.
Some will celebrate in different ways.
No matter what our beliefs are,
there is a connection between us all
that no one can deny
It us up to us all to accept
everyone as our family,
all under one roof
Choosing to accept
everyone as they are,
knowing it's not for us to judge.
We stand together in harmony
doing unto others as we
would have them do unto us.
Happy Holidays to ALL!
Cathy Minerva, Bernice Wagnitz, Beverly A. Sams, SueAnn Lommler
The ZNE Artists and Poets group is a sub-group of the ZNE Network on Ning. ZNE comes from VariaZioNE or "variation," a perfect name for an international mixed media art group, founded by Chelise Stroud-Hery of California. Visit www.zneart.com to join.
Artists and Poets is coordinated by Gina M. Smith. A new coordinator for the group poetry effort, ZNE Verses, is being sought for 2009. Interested ZNE members should contact Gina or Chel on the Network at www.zneiscrafty.ning.com.
Ho, Ho, Ho...
Dashing through the snow,
the tree is lit,
And the stars aglow.
It's cold outside,
but away we go!
Up and down the hills,
riding a glittery sleigh with bells,
Stopping only to take in the sights:
houses decorated that light up the night
’Tis the season of winter's delight,
Of family and friends gathered together,
Tinsel and mistletoe, everything's just right,
Pictures and memories that will last forever.
Tie down the reins;
the bells still ring.
Knock on a door,
and start to sing!
Hot chocolate and cookies, twinkling lights,
smiles on all faces, oh, so bright!
They all come out to sing some songs,
wonderful memories of past sing-alongs.
Even little children join in the fun,
Singing “Jolly St Nicholas” and “Rum tum tum.”
Candles flicker in the new-fallen snow;
Sleds are all waxed and ready to go.
Eggnog is spiked and tasting real fine;
Mistletoe is up. Now please be mine!
Bernice Wagnitz, Stacey Merrill, Beverly A. Sams, Cathy Minerva, Sue Ann Lommler.
Can we keep it cheery
in this sweet little poem today?
Let us say we're thankful
for that which comes our way.
I am thankful for the muse
who visits me now and then,
thankful for the blogs and all my on-line friends.
I am thankful for my coffee;
I never will deny it.
And thanks for all those doughnuts!
Oh my, I need to diet!
I'm thankful for what others have shared,
Not just their art, but showing they cared.
As I go about creating a new surprise,
It will touch a heart like a beautiful sunrise!
I thank God that He has found the man
He meant to fulfill my life.
And on this December 20th,
He's making me his wife!
Oh Shelley, what wonderful news!
On December 20th you will say your I do’s.
A beautifully stunning bride you will be,
just make sure photos are taken so we can all see!
Thank you. Thank you, all my friends.
I'll make sure the romance never ends.
I've searched the world over to find this man.
He's my soul mate and my best friend.
I am filled with thanks today
that all you special ZNEers have come my way.
The creativity I so admire and try to forever passionately inspire
remains an inevitably beautiful gift to me for which I will always aspire.
Seeing all the wonderful art so proudly displayed,
I can't wait to come here to see what is new today!
Encouragement and critiques are respectfully given.
I think I have died and gone to heaven!
Sharing our art, heart and soul
brings special meaning as we set our goal
To do our best while having fun.
Come on now, for the party has begun!
Early morning talks with coffee in hand,
Sharing news from all over the land.
Greeting each other with slippers on our feet,
greetings and salutations are such a treat.
Like a huge double dip of yummy ice cream
that painting I want to own seems to scream
’Buy me today, and you will see,
SueAnn really made it just for me!”
Beverly is kind; it is plain to see!
She is always uplifting me.
As for the piece she wants so bad,
I don't know, but I think I have been had!!!!!
I’ve found my passion for sharing my art
to those I’ve met here who are a part
of all the wonderful groups in ZNE,
could you please just come, and share with me!
I am thankful to be back
among all my dear friends
I've missed so much.
I'm thankful for having a wonderful man in my life
who loves me for who I am
and encourages me in my art like no other has.
I'm thankful after all these years alone
to have someone I love to hold.
He bought me roses today, just because.
Although he's much younger than I am,
we connect on every level, like no other has.
I am thankful to know love again, very thankful.
Being loved by someone is a wonderful thing,
filling one’s heart and making it sing.
What a wonderful day it has turned out to be
tripping the light fancy!!!!
Oh yes, ‘tis wonderful to finally find
the man of your dreams who's loving and kind.
My heart skips a beat the minute I see
him come into view, oh yes it was to be!
Beverly A. Sams, SueAnn Lommler, Jacquie Stone, Shelley Sparks, Stacey Merrill
Come November the trees will be bare,
the leaves on the ground.
Time for nature to take care,
store up as it must do
so we may have a springtime, too
I pull my shawl ‘round my shoulders tight,
remembering how it was that night.
I knew I loved you but was so afraid.
Would you hear my promises made?
Did you think I wasn't being truly fair?
Backing away, saying don't you dare.
My mind was reeling with too much pain.
It wasn't you; it was me to blame!
Secret nights and stolen kisses,
lying under the sky and making wishes,
memories so sweet, I cry:
How could you? How could you lie?
As I set my book aside, I look around
at nature's golden light,
taking time to read a good book aloud
In the crisp warm air of autumn’s delight.
The smell of wonder is in that air,
Leaves falling with such delightful flair.
My heart feels sad that some can't see
how the seasons bring such joyous glee.
Rising from my comfortable chair,
a mirror catches the white in my once golden hair.
Just a moment's pause then off to bed
with long ago thoughts swirling in my head.
My dreams carried me back to that night so long ago
As you said you love me my heart felt all aglow.
Then just as suddenly you were gone.
No note, no phone call; you just left me alone.
Strange how the passing seasons
can bring back long-forgotten lessons.
Yes, time marches on so it is said,
and this is where my memories have led.
Memories to keep within my grasp,
knowing full well one can't change the past.
I'm reminded what my mum said to me,
Be happy for what God's gifts you receive.
For in life, that is what we can expect.
No more, no less; that is all you will get.
For at one’s death, all turns to dust.
The end is fitting and always just.
Because November is halfway past,
leaves have floated down to the grass.
Big and little tress standing tall,
Undressed and waiting for the snow to fall!
Beverly A. Sams, Bernice Wagnitz, Cathy Minerva, SueAnn Lommler
The ghouls are costume-shopping,
only a few days yet to go.
The rustle of leaves,
the tiny foot steps,
you can hear them coming
with bags and sacks open,
begging, little beggers!
The loot of choice?
Milky Way and Snickers.
Handmade costume made from a sheet,
just for little Billy to get his treat.
Mom is watching him from afar,
making sure he's safe from that car.
All throughout the neighborhood one can hear the sound
"Trick or Treat!!" Then giggles do abound.
Doorbells ringing, lights all a-flicker,
there goes Billy now with his homemade clicker!
Where's the popcorn balls,
the candied apples,
fresh-made cookies
that baked for hours?
Trick or treat,
Smell my feet.
Fill my bag
with hands full of treats!
Can I eat my treats before I go in?
Or do mom and dad have to go thru them?
One used to be safe but now we must
be careful of those whom you can't trust,
What are you going to be this year
Super hero, hobo, princess or clown,
Homemade costume or one that comes in a box?
The excitement is high as you wait for the night.
It's still Halloween, and we're still filled with delight!
Oh my goodness, look at me!
I made a costume for all to see.
The rainbow colors red, green, yellow and blue,
I wonder if it will stay together with all that glue!
Face paint on so thick it smears!
I'm a zombie you all must fear,
running through the grass and trees,
gripping my pillow sack, tripping onto my knees!
Jack-o-lanterns hanging in a tree,
little white ghosts swaying in the breeze,
what was that shadow crossing over the moon?
I'll bet all the witches are coming soon.
A nip in the air turns little cheeks rosy;
Soon they will be in their beds all warm and cozy.
Chocolate stains on hands and mouth,
dreams of ghosts living under their couch.
Tired and worn out from the heavy bag,
So filled with candy it sagged.
Home we go to spill out my loot;
I hope I didn't get any fruit!
Bernice Wagnitz, Beverly A Sams, SueAnn Lommler, Gina Smith, artwork provided by Bernice Wagnitz
The moonlight danced between the leaves
the night you said to me,
”I remember your question, but not your name.”
Something awakens in me when I remember
your question.
You asked me why I disappeared years ago.
How could I leave him when he loved me so?
As I look through the dancing leaves above,
my memories fill my heart like a soaring dove!
Can it be I just didn't understand his question,
or was I being selfish for wanting more?
What is right for us today
may be wrong for us tomorrow.
All we can do is our best,
and hope no pain will follow.
Yet isn't it better to know the pain
than to feel nothing at all?
It reminds me that I am still here,
that tomorrow will be filled with new sensations.
Pain is something we can't control.
We can let it consume us or let it go.
For me I choose not to give in.
My love for doing fun things begins.
I chose to sing a happier song,
to start out fresh and so move on.
Life is gleeful and is sweet,
and made sweeter by the friends we meet.
So having loved that one so strong
and learned the ecstasy of a lover's pain,
we see in friends' faces
that common thread of being.
My thoughts race backwards to a time
when a loaf of bread cost only a dime.
How did things get so far off track?
Please bring the old times back!
A time when your smile would melt my heart,
your kiss would cause a swoon.
Do you remember the day we first kissed?
Or only the time when we said we would part?
Thinking back to that day so long ago,
my heart feels the sadness still.
Why didn't we fight to save what we had,
or was it just easier to let go?
As I write these lines in my journal,
all these thoughts and memories
flow like an endless river,
preserved for someone else to read
As I find myself back in the present,
wondering why you said to me,
”I remember your question,
but not your name.”
So my story ends.............
Just one of many stories that fills these pages,
a life's worth of stories in this old, worn journal that I hold.
What was, what could have been and what is:
It's all here, my life between these pages,
my life between these pages.
My journal is an extension of me,
filled full of deep thoughts, trials, and dreams.
Holding fast to the truths they all convey
makes my life more precious than I can say!
And is maybe more for me
than posterity.
Bernice Wagnitz, Beverly A. Sams, Cathy Minerva, Shelley Sparks, Stacy Merrill, Constanza Berger, SueAnn Lommler
Autumn's chill, like a familiar malaise,
creeps slowly into my soul:
a myriad of colors, falling leaves;
this change of season serves not to calm me.
Here in the mountains, God's paintings you'll see:
colors of red, orange, yellow and green.
How soon it will change, falling leaves on the ground,
little critters playing in the snow, making sweet sounds.
You can feel and smell the chill in the air;
winter's just around the corner.
I embrace the autumn, for its presence is fleeting.
I relish the breeze as it tousles and plays with my hair.
Autumn, the season of gathering and saving
for the harshness that is to come.
Also, the season of my life
where I gather my thoughts of what has been,
and ready myself for the final season of my life.
And that season has come so quickly.
I feel I have but a moment to share,
And that I guard ferociously!
Ahhh, time! How cruel is thy keeping!
But time plays tricks on the young as well,
for it goes far too slow. The ticks and tocks
drum on forever when you're waiting for a bell.
And what about the young at heart?
What is time to them?
Friend or foe or death-knell?
Me? I hate the clock.
I hate the rush; I hate the wait
Time keeps me from those I love;
Fighting time is my fate.
So is autumn's chill my warning,
or is it my re-birth? Everything feels
new again on a September morning.
Oh, to have my Septembers back once again-
School time, new schedules and routines.
It's time for her to be home soon;
I love hearing her call out "MOM!"
Yes, September, I remember.
I think of October and all it will bring-
Pumpkins, jack-o-lanterns,apple pie and ice cream.
Our Annual Fall gathering brings family and friends
together once more before snow begins.
Mother nature dons her cloak of colors
and frosts the lawn with dew.
A crispness hangs in the evening air
As summer says "adieu."
Adieu! Adieu! Oh sweet summer, adieu!
How quickly you have left my life;
now darkness comes so early!
Oh sweet summer, how I will miss you!
Warm woolly sweaters,
a cozy fireplace
fresh baked bread,
warm and cozy in my bed.
Dreams of the coming months ahead
bring delightful thoughts of baking bread.
How great it will go with soups and stews,
keeping us warm inside too.
Before you know, it's Ole St. Nick,
sailing the skies and showing us his tricks.
Carrying the bag down the chimney with ease,
surveying his domain; he is always so pleased!
There's still time for trips to the cider mill,
the warm donuts and sweet cider all chilled,
a nice walk along the lake. We sit and listen
to autumn's sound:
The leaves falling and crinkle under foot.
The sky is truly golden
as in a Maxfield Parrish print.
The harvest moon shines brightly,
And the fields have an earthy scent.
I'm thinking how the fall leaves would look
if I added them to a page in my scrapbook.
Along with all the pretty things I've collected
from things in the woods I've already selected.
Too soon another year will be in the past,
and a new beginning with new dreams
will soon arrive.
Old friends, some gone;
new friends to meet.
Make of it what you want-
another clean slate
to create.
I love the thought of atonement, reflection-
a new beginning, a different direction.
My heart flutters like a leaf in the fall, and
where it will land, anywhere at all....
will be home.
Who could dream that cruel time can also be kind,
teasing me with fall, winter and the stark reality of it all,
yet also promising another spring, another summer?
For as much as the ups and downs, the beginnings and ends
of the cycles of my life bait and frustrate me,
they bring new hope, whispers and teases,
of new life yet to come, yet unknown.
Cathy Minerva, Beverly A. Sams, SueAnn Lommler, Bernice Wagnitz, Shelley Sparks, Gina M. Smith; Artwork by Constanza Berger
We need a new poem, and here it is.
(No, really, this IS it.)
Sometimes a new poem puts me in a tizz.
Thinking of stuff every week is the pits.
Just try to be deep and clever-
It's as unpredictable as the weather.
Where these poems lead is anyone's guess.
Sometimes it's good; sometimes it's a mess.
But now I've started one that is silly,
So you all can take it. Go willy-nilly.
Add some more stuff, whatever you feel.
But something light, that's the deal!
Off we will go in a real tizzy,
And we will work really hard not to make it busy.
Feeling my way with my hands, not my feet,
Making this look really, really neat.
See? Sue Ann's got the idea.
She wrote something to follow me.
I know. You're thinking this is dumb.
But, c'mon, it could be fun.
Throw out a silly line, or a stanza or two.
No one here will make fun of you!
Use clever words or just invent 'em-
Finfinella for one
I will try very hard, I promise I will.
So remember if you give a man a fish
he will eat for a day.
Teach him how to fish,
and he will sit in a boat and drink beer all day.
Okay, now I get the drift
for this poem, words I will not have to sift.
Grab my fishing pole, get in the boat.
Drink enough beer and something will float.
You've got it chixies-
Bernie and Cath-
Just pen something dumb,
something good for a laugh.
Now who will take the 'bait'?
Hmmm....it's a fishing theme I see.
That wasn't where I was headed
but alright by me.
Never test the depth of the water
with both feet.
And if at first you don't succeed,
skydiving is not for you.
Flying by the seat of my pants
Terrified by fire ants,
falling through the air so fast
watching my life going past!!
If you think nobody cares if you're alive,
try missing a couple of car payments.
A tow truck you'll see at your door
to take your car back to the store!
I have a book you must look at.
It holds some pictures of my cat.
Would it be too bold if I asked you this?
Could you paint its picture, it's name is Pris!!
Painting pictures is fine by me.
It's the paint I mind that is on my knee,
making it necessary to wash the spot,
and I hate doing laundry; I hate it a lot!
Some days you're the bug;
some days you're the windshield.
Then you have to wash it a lot
to get rid of the great big spot.
Writing poems: there’s nothing to it.
I Just wonder how Martha S. would do it?
Her stanzas might be full of glitz and bling.
"Now ladies, alteration is a very good thing!"
Alteration, now that's my thing.
I alter everything.
Let me share my secret of altering.
Duct tape is like 'The Force.'
It has a light side and a dark side,
and it holds the universe together.
Now that's a good thing.
Cliches, cliches everywhere.
They're on the desk; they're on a chair.
They're on my mind; they're on my knee
Sam I am, you let me be!
I do not like Green Eggs and Ham.
I don't not like them...Oh..wrong poem.
I'm wondering what turns this poem will take,
back to altered states or baking a cake?
Since I'm better at one than the other,
I'll give the cake pan to my twin brother!
Mary had a little lamb. Its fleece was white as snow.
And everywhere that Mary went the lamb was sure to go.
This caused the people in her town to all start talking.
But Mary really didn't care for she liked her new 'wool stalkings.'
And if the truth be known
Mary was quite irritated with her lamb.
And this is what she told him:
Do not walk behind me, for I may not lead.
Do not walk ahead of me, for I may not follow.
Do not walk beside me either.
Just pretty much leave me alone.
And the lamb got lost on the winding road
without Mary carrying the load.
He bleated and bleated all the night long,
but Mary was busy singing her own song.
Oh, my goodness, what have we here?
Is it a poem of nonsense, I fear?
Or is it something mythical, something deeper,
a lyrical foreboding of the very grimmest reaper?
Yes, that is it! And now I know!
My job here is done.
Off to the computer I go
ending the poem, ending the fun!
Twinkle, twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are?
Could you be a UFO? How the heck am I to know?
I wonder more where this rhyme is going
As our creative minds keep flowing...
Is that what you call this poem we've written,
created by minds which have been smitten
By all the fun and love we all share?
For one another, how much we care!
Is this the piece that keeps on going
with never an end and no one knowing?
Can I cry uncle and beg it to end?
Or are there more words that I must lend?
Me thinks it's time to start anew.
So here's a little hug for you,
To make you happy if you are sad,
to let you know life ain't so bad.
And neither is this poem!
Bernice Wagnitz, Cathy Minerva, Beverly A. Sams, Gina Smith
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