Sunday Morning
Sunday morning, the snow is falling
time to stay snuggled in bed.
Pull up the covers
drift back to sleep.
The dogs wants out, the cat’s purring
time to care for the family.
turn up the heat
fill the kettle with water.
Sip tea from a pretty glass mug
watch snow flakes cover the year.
Sunday morning becomes a holiday!
A quiet celebration of life.
Poetry & Art by Patricia Walter 1999 ©
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Run With The Wind
Run with the wind-
dare to catch your dreams.
Life is exciting, life is challenging.
Run with your head up
your heart filled with faith
and the roadblocks will fall.
Dream the impossible
do the impossible!
Run with the wind,
live your dreams.
Poetry & Art by Patricia Walter 1999 ©… Read the rest
My Love For You
As wind , rain and mist block the rising sun
we know in our hearts it’s always there.
My love for you,
not always visible through the mist of daily work,
disappointments or sorrow,
is always there.
A shoulder to lean on, a hand to hold,
a warm heart that cares.
Poetry & Art by Patricia Walter 1999 ©… Read the rest
An Impolite Cat
Be At Peace With Yourself
Be at peace with yourself
be at peace with the world.
Let your anger, hurt and problems of the day
go down with the sun each night.
Let joy, happiness and hope
rise in your heart with the sun each morning.
Be at peace with yourself
be at peace in your world.
Poetry & Art by Patricia Walter 1999 ©
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My Friend From Long Ago
He sits so quietly, never moving an inch
wondering why we don’t play anymore.
Being a wife with children on my own
leaves so little time to visit my friend.
Once in awhile I take him down
give him a hug and tell him my woes.
He listens intently with fuzzy, worn ears
watches with round button eyes,
tries to hug with matted old paws.
But time is short, there are errands to do
so Teddy goes back on the shelf.
He sits so quietly, he waits so patiently
my friend from long ago.
Poetry & Art by Patricia Walter 1999 ©… Read the rest
Window of Time
She sits at the window
frozen in time.
What does she really see?
Ghosts from the past
a thousand years old
creatures we don’t understand.
Tail twitching, body poised
not moving an inch
mesmerized by the world outside.
A quiet little mouse,
white tailed deer,
or shadows from wind blown trees.
I look, I stare
but I just don’t see
the view from cat’s eyes so intense.
Hours pass, the cat stands guard,
sky bleeding night black to dawn gray.
Night after night
at the window of time
what stories unfold out of sight?
Poetry & Art by Patricia Walter 1999 ©… Read the rest
Be Happy, Not Perfect
There is no such things as perfect.
Where did the word come from?
The perfect husband, the perfect job
the perfect house, the perfect marriage.
We are all human, living in a human world.
Most are nice, sincere, loving, even kind.
But perfect causes such unhappiness.
Perfect is unreal, untouchable.
Accept good, well done and wonderful.
do your best, be your best.
There is no such things as perfect.
Be happy, not perfect.
Poetry & Art by Patricia Walter 1999 ©… Read the rest
To Do or To Be
To be is often crowed out by to do.
To do the dishes, to do the washing, to do the lawn.
To do is so loud, so active, so high energy,
that to be is often forgotten.
Life becomes meaningless acts of to do without to be.
To be quiet, to be with self,
to be with Spirit, to be with God.
To be gives great meaning to life.
To be is the connection with a greater Spirit.
To be gives hope, serenity and joy.
Poetry & Art by Patricia Walter 1999 ©… Read the rest
Quiet Gifts
Quiet gifts touch the spirit and heart.
Absolutely free, not costing a penny
taking only a few moments from the day.
A soft touch to the shoulder
quietly holding hands
a warm hug when least expected.
Quiet gifts of love and appreciation.
Sitting still and listening
walking slowly hand in hand
watching children play in the park.
Quiet gifts of life.
Quiet gifts touch heart and soul
give meaning to life and love.
Honesty, trust and appreciation
are truly quiet gifts of the heart.
Poetry & Art by Patricia Walter 1999 ©
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We Are All Little Kids At Heart
We are all little kids at heart.
We look like adults, we act like adults,
but deep inside, there’s still a little kid.
We are so easily hurt, even though we know better!
We are so jealous, even though we know better!
We are so quick to anger, even though we know better!
It’s hard to act grown up when the little kid inside is
so tender, so vulnerable, so easily hurt.
We have no Dad to run to, no Mom to hug us.
It’s OK to have the joy of a kid,
we love to laugh, play games, even run around.
The joy of a child is a wonderful experience,
but the hurt of a child seems wrong to us.
Perhaps we fail to understand,
we are all little kids inside!
Poetry by Patricia Walter 1999 ©… Read the rest
The River
The flow, the freedom, the fury, the floods.
all faces of the river and its endless show.
Sometimes boring, quiet and calm
other days churning with anger and waves.
Her banks overflowing from torrents of rain
her speed too quick to follow.
the current carries trees, debris
and unknown victims in its path.
Nothing can stop the anger of the river.
No dams, dykes or sandbags
contain this powerful giant!
So we lean to live
with this river of power.
To love the beauty and accept her gifts.
Poetry & Art by Patricia Walter 1990 ©
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