My Rambling Brat

I figured it was high time that I introduced y'all to a few of my “rambling brats” (and if you didn’t get that literary allusion… well let’s just say I feel sorry for ya! You’re missing out!)

My Old Hairbrush

Faded and worn, my old hairbrush lies

Bristles broken,

At odd angles pokin’,

My scalp as it flies…

My hair is my glory,

(I’ll not lie—I’m vain)

These dark tresses mark who I am

And give meaning to my name.

Once long and silky, with hints of red;

Yes it charmed many a lad,

(Surprised most is still on my head!)

But time has passed,

(As time always has)

And my hair, I’ve noticed, it changing fast!

Grey flecks have taken over, where red use to be

It’s coarser now, it no longer defines me

As that sassy young girl, with boys all in tow,

But as a stoic old woman—Now eating her crow!

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The Violent Hour

There is a mystery that blooms in the violent hour

When my hands are tangled in your long, sweet hair

And the air grows thin, til your gasping for air

There a sparsely covered tree grows, with long dark limbs

And on it booms a mystery scent from heaven

Scents that are rich like cedar and fresh rain drops

that taste like ash bark,

With a beauty like smoke on the wind

Here a flower blooms, for a short while

And is crushed in the fall

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if i had a piano

if i had a piano

i’d play my troubles away

i’d play and play my piano

right through the break of day

and when the sun set low

behind pink and orange clouds

i’d play something slow, slow

On a personal note, I'm adventuring to Central Illinois this weekend! Pictures to come--farm pictures!!!