My Poems

My Calico Cat

I Have a calico cat very quiet and shy                                                                                He disappears when my friends stop by
They tease and ask, does he meow or cry
Are we ever going to see this little guy

His toys are scattered around on the floor
I have padding on every corner and door                                                                When you are here in his invisible presence                                                               Things to know to make your visit pleasant

Sit still and be calm so he can get to know
His instincts will tell if you're friend or foe
He'll grab at your foot from under the couch
Then grab the other before you can say ouch

Time has passed and my cat’s doing well
He now wears a collar with a little bell
So when he hides he’s not so hard to find
Such a blessing cause he hides all the time

I don't let him out to play in the warm sun
It’s hard for I know he would have such fun
He bumps into chairs and walks into the wall
He doesn't know which way to go when I call

I've had my cat now for quite a few years                                                                            When he leaves I will shed many tears                                                                            He has been a handful but I don't mind
My precious little calico cat is totally blind.

Author Eileen Clark

Image: Pinterest

My Poems

The Black Iron Gate

Featured Eileen Clark8 Comments

In this quite garden alone I do sit                                                                           Hoping friends will drop by for a visit                                                                               Warmth from the sun, softness of breeze                                                                          The squeak of my gate would surely please

Seedlings floating by brushing my cheek                                                                           A near perfect day but for one thing I seek                                                                       Wanting to hear a squeak from my iron gate                                                                      Hearing someone say, I'm so sorry we're late

I try very hard to keep a smile on my face                                                                            In my minds eye I can go almost any place                                                                     Climbing mountains, wading through brooks                                                                           My adventures come from reading many books

Day nearing it's end, nothing more I can say                                                                            The black iron gate didn't squeak open today                                                                            Tomorrow the sun is definitely going to shine                                                                       Going out when it's nice folks are more inclined

Author Eileen Clark 2011

From the author, this poem is not about me.

Image fineartamerica.com

My Paintings

Take Your Children By Hand

September 28, 2022October 3, 2022 Eileen Clark5 Comments

Take your children by hand and a paper bag                                                                                 Hurry, don't let your feet too slowly drag                                                                                    Into the woods today we're headed for sure                                                                                                     Going to let nature give us a memorable tour                                                         
                                                                                                                                                             Now sun is yellow and warm making bright our faces                                                                             Soon we'll be in cool dark green whispering places
Big things we see, gigantic boulders, tall pine trees
We're looking for tiny things hidden under rocks                            
logs and leaves

We might find a Lady Slipper and give it to Mom
A Jack-in-the-Pulpit we could give to Uncle Rom
Sweet berries are every where, but we mustn't eat
Watch the birds, see if they do make them a treat

Shush, I hear a sound coming from that hallow log                                                                          on the ground
It might be a frog, chipmunk, or possibly a fairy
sneaking around
"I believe your imagination has gone off in a whirl
You funny child, it's only a fluffy brown squirrel"

The sun now a orange and red in the lower cooler
darkened sky,
To the birds, frogs, chipmunks, squirrels, and                                                                                  possibly a fairy say goodbye
Get your rocks, berries, Lady Slippers, your leaves, moss and wood
When we get home and empty your bag, we'll see that you did really good

Place the moss in the garden, rocks and wood on your shelf in a row,
Your golden leaves pressed in wax paper and hung in the kitchen window.
All that fresh air, running and climbing has made you a sleepy head,
Eat your supper, have your hot shower, then off you go to bed.

Dreaming about the Lady slippers, frogs, squirrels and possibly a fairy no longer in its secret place,
When morning comes and your refreshed, check the bag, make sure it's empty---just saying in case.                                                              
  
Author Eileen Clark

Image:https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/10790

My Paintings

A Good Boy

September 6, 2022September 6, 2022 Eileen Clark2 Comments

I woke before the morning, I was happy all the day,
I never said an ugly word, but smiled and stuck to play.

And now at last the sun is going down behind the wood,
And I am very happy, for I know that I've been good.

My bed is waiting cool and fresh, with linen smooth and fair,
And I must be off to sleepsin-by, and not forget my prayer.

I know that, till to-morrow I shall see the sun arise,
No ugly dream shall fright my mind, no ugly sight my eyes.

But slumber hold me tightly till I waken in the dawn,
And hear the thrushes singing in the lilacs round the lawn.

Author Robert Louis Stevenson

Image:google.com

My Paintings

Sun Tea

July 13, 2022July 13, 2022 Eileen Clark2 Comments

Sun Tea doesn’t taste any better

It just takes a lot longer to get’er

Make sure you put lids on the jugs

It’s a sure way to keep out yer bugs

Author Eileen Clark

Lovely ice tea jar image, bugs not included. :)https://gardentherapy.ca/sun-tea/

My Paintings

Texas Sun Tea

July 11, 2022July 12, 2022 Eileen Clark8 Comments

Use The Power of The Sun!

Nestled in the memories of many a child of the 1970’s is the memory of tea brewing in a glass container out in the open sunshine. This delightful brew was known far and wide as sun tea. Many of us delighted in being the ones who would prepare the tea jug and then search for the perfect spot in the back yard, where the tea would receive direct sunlight and slowly brew into a delightful concoction that we would enjoy with our lunch and dinner that day.

ReadMore:

:https://www.streetdirectory.com/food_editorials/beverages/teas/remembering_the_sun_tea_craze.html

Beautiful Image and Great Recipes !

https://www.southernliving.com/recipes/lemonade-iced-tea

Mommy’s Kitchen – Recipes From my Texas Kitchen: Southern Sun …

https://www.icanvas.com/canvas-print/watercolor-lemons-in-mason-jar-on-shiplap-tss157#1PC6-26×26:~:text=on%20shiplap%20by-,Tre%20Sorelle%20Studios,-canvas%20art%20arrives

celebrationsltd.com

My Poems

My April Cat

April 7, 2022April 8, 2022 Eileen Clark12 Comments

It’s been a long cold winter,

Inside this house I sat.

I’m told that’s what cats do,

Sit around and get fat.

I want to go out now and run,

But every day there is no sun,

I hear Missy say April showers,

Will bring butterflies and flowers.

I know the time will be here soon,

I remember chasing stuff last June.

And next to follow is mid summer,

Using the litter box has been a bummer.

by Eileen Clark April 2022

Image:https://www.lovethispic.com/image/154978/cat-watching-rain-out-window

Poems

Spring

March 24, 2022March 25, 2022 Eileen ClarkLeave a comment

There is no time like Spring,
When life’s alive in everything,
Before new nestlings sing,
Before cleft swallows speed their journey back
Along the trackless track –
God guides their wing,
He spreads their table that they nothing lack, –
Before the daisy grows a common flower
Before the sun has power
To scorch the world up in his noontide hour…

by Christina Georgina Rossetti

Christina Georgina Rossetti was an English writer of romantic, devotional and children’s poems, including “Goblin Market” and “Remember”. Wikipedia

Born: December 5, 1830, London, United Kingdom

Died: December 29, 1894, Torrington Square

Garden Image:wayfair.com

Susan Rios Hollyhock House by Susan Rios – Print on Canvas

autumn · Fall

Saving Fall Leaves

October 6, 2018October 27, 2022 Eileen Clark2 Comments

Did any of you do this ? Every fall my mom would have my brothers and I get a paper bag and go for a walk in the woods and collect colored leaves. When we got them home we would pick out the very best leaves, perfect shape and colors counted. We would then place them on a sheet of wax paper placing another sheet on the top and then go over it with a slightly warm iron. Mom would tape them to the glass on our windows.

It reminded me of stained glass windows when the sun shown directly on the glass, awesome. The nice thing was that they lasted for a long time right through the winter if you like. It’s such a little thing but I loved the time we spent doing this and I did the same with my children on down to my grandchildren and we all loved it and every fall looked forward doing it.

I was thinking about it yesterday and wondered, do they even make wax paper anymore ? So I would try to find some pictures of pressing leaves by doing a google search and wow! I was quite surprised and delighted to see how many people still do this. Interesting thing is folks have found new ways to preserve their beautiful leaves and display them in very interesting ways and yes, they still do make wax paper! We kids called it pressing leaves, today some call them Suncatchers. It’s the little things that kids remember.