Rhymes, Rants & Accolades from North Central BC

I was chatting on the phone this morning and, as we often do, the subjects of world politics and religion came up in the conversation. We wondered whether it was important that we partake in communicating with our Higher Power in the ritual of daily prayers.. My friend admitted that he no longer prayed to God in words, instead the content of his communication was more emotional. I replied that I try to remember to pray, but sometimes I forget. Back in the “day” I fervantly prayed on a regular basis.

I told my friend that my prayers often boiled down to only one of two words: “Please” and “Thank you.” The “pleases” were answered, but it took time…sometimes a long time. The “thank yous” were answered instantaneously, when I would experience a feeling of intense joy.

Lately, as I pass through the eighth decade of my life I find myself mouthing far more “thank yous” than “pleases.” I am grateful that my world is pretty darned joyful!

Mr G and the Squirrel

Mr G strolled out on the lawn

In his heart there beat a sweet song

In his tree hung a feeder

Filled with succulent seed-fer

The birds that were flying around.

Some finches were perched in the tree

He could hear their wee chirps, “tweet’l dee”

But instead of a “thank’y”

Their chirps sounded cranky

“Filler up,” they growled, “we’re hungry,”

“I do hope those finches are wrong

The feeder’s ten feet from the ground

How come it is empty?

Last night there was plenty

Could tiny beaks have siphoned it gone?”

“‘Twas not us!” cried the finches

“Our stomachs shrank inches

‘Twas a big bird instead

With no beak on its head

Ate the food that he’d managed to pinch us!”

Mr G glanced up in the tree

A squirrel smiled back pensively

“A squirrel-proof feeder

Is all that we need here

You birds will be happy, you’ll see!”

The feeder was made out of tin

It had a trick device within

If a squirrel came to dally

It’s weight would not carry

The opening would shut with a din

But the squirrel was overweight

Which caused the device to break

Mr G was not happy

He felt kind of crappy

As he tightened up the mistake

A new bag of seeds he had bought

“It’s all good,” Mr G had thought

But again, the squirrel tripped

And the bird seed was nipped

It happened more often than not!

The winter birds came with the snow

And soon it was twenty below

Mr G learned too late

Squirrels do not hibernate

Repairing the feeder was a go!

The squirrel used aerodynamics

To bypass the feeders’ mechanics

He debarked downside up

When he slithered to sup

The birds suffered panic upset’rics

One day Mr G had a dream

A roof on it’s roof was the scheme

The first made of foil

Lasted one night of toil

The squirrel tore it up to smith’reens

Mr D looked out of his window

The birds were all his friends now

On top of the rig

Was a big plastic lid

The “Free Meals for Squirrels” s’been rescinded

Easter Monday

It’s a bare-naked kind of day

A change of wardrobe is in progress

The Silver Birch contemplates

What to wear on this day

Whether it should accept

The donning of the fluffy new snow

That’s once again wafting down

In the icy cold breeze

Or to wait for an afternoon

Of warm sunshine

To create a more exciting mode of dress

Crisp green leaves sprouting from the

Tree’s tendrils

The lime green leaves

Only seen in Spring

They envelope the entire tree

Creating a chiffon umbrella to

Shade the grasses below

The tree is dreaming

And so am I…

Closed Captioning

Closed Captioning’s upon TV

For senior couples’ harmony

Hard of hearing ears decline

At different rates and different times

“Put on your ears!” I scream at him.

“I cannot think above that din!”

And he in plaintive tones erupts

“The volume’s only halfway up!”

With hearing aides, he now is listening

To words that sound as if they’re whispering

My hearing aides I have installed

To watch my favorite show of all

British shows have women cops

That tell their male subordinates off

Vera drives the countryside

Finding villains, solving crimes

This evening we will watch Netflix

A show we’ve both found time to check

Closed captioning is on the screen

To fill us in on what has been

Our hearing aides no longer needed

All we have to do is read it!


My hearing aides upgradethe sound

The Cribbage War


And I see you

Have a few fives

And a face card too

I’ve passed the skunk line

And you are far behind

But your twenty-eight hand

Is a kick in the can

We are neck and neck

As we peg around the deck

I am in the last hole

When I get the final “go!”

(Sorry Dear, maybe you’ll win the next game)

There’s a sweet little girl

Somewhere in the world

Whom I miss with all of my heart

She’s now twenty-seven

And I wish to Heaven

We dwelt much closer apart

Impetuous and sassy

My darling lassie

Holds Gramma’s heart in her hands

When she was three

I asked her to pee

In her cute little pot on the floor

“I hate that thing,” she hollered at me

And left in a huff out the door

‘Twas my turn to tinkle

And quick as a wink-le

Little Sweetie returned on the run

She clapped and applauded

My efforts she lauded

For accomplishing what she had not done

One time I arrived when she was about five

Before leaving I took a few pictures

There was one I’d not taken

Still leaves my heart aching

On a torn paper towel it’d been written

The message on camera

Read, “I love you Gramma”

From that day on I was smitten.

April 7 poem

What’s an argument?

Were we having an argument?

Did that mean we were on opposite sides

of a fence? (an electric fence)

I said I believe in vacinnations.

He said “Bollocks” (He’s from England)

I said I didn’t like Trump.

He said Trump was worth more than

Any other card in the deck.

I said I liked Trudeau.

He said, the father, the son or

Or the whole Liberal party?

I said I don’t like steak and

Kidney pie ( especially the kidney part)

He said it was particularly good

With Worcestershire sauce

I said I was a vegetarian (I lied

Because he was warming

Up the roasting pan)

Were we having an argument

Or just a difference

Of opinion?

Poetry Month April 2022

Sunshine and Showers

April 1st.

The finches are back

Birds of Spring

Tiny winged bodies

Competing briskly

For morsels of seeds


In funky containers

Set up by humans for bird

Convenience and human


The winter birds have left

Mostly chickadees

More polite and sharing

Than the finches

So Canadian:

I almost heard their “please”

And “thank yous” as

They took turns at the feeder.

April 2nd

An early morning walk

Nice crisp morning

Ice on the puddles

Sun in the sky

April 3rd

It’s a “grey” day

No sunshine

Dark clouds in the sky

It is April

S’posed to be pretty

S’posed to be warm

But it’s a grey day

April 4th

Unto every life a little snow must fall

But soon the sun will surely shine

Northerners should voice a poignant call

To the gods to listen to us whine

We have shovelled and we’ve driven

Through six months of frigid weather

The snow must go so we can live in

A warmer world together

April 5th

Today is foggy, so’s my brain

A cold dark morn, it’s snowed again

I drink coffee, play a Scrabble game

No birds outside – I cannot blame

If they’ve returned from whence they came

At least down there, precipitation’s rain.

April 6 (in the morning)

There’s a brightness oozing

Between the louvres of

The Venetian blinds

In my kitchen

Sunshine is spreading

It’s golden aura

Of warm intimacy

Over the crusted mud

And old snow

Still layering the stubble

I open all the curtains

The view’s the same

Spring is here!

I Love My Fellow Humans

What’s on my mind, Facebook asks? I am thinking about “God” “Allah” “Our Creator” “Great Spirit” and all other honorable labelling of Whomever created and continues to create, recreate, renovate, and update bits and pieces of our universe and all other universes; suns, moons and stars.

I used to believe “God” was male, and then women began speaking up, referring to The Great Spirit as a woman – as they did in ancient times. I’ve since come to believe that there is no reason to identify The Creator as being either male or female. I believe that He/She/It is unknowable ; perhaps an emmense divine form of spiritual energy?

I am an infitesminally tiny speck of soul-energy encased in a rapidly deteriorating shell. I beieve I have fullfilled some of what I was supposed to do: have children, and in turn, many of my children have had children. Some of us have picked up on an element in our lives that was in dire need of improvement, such as the abhorrent treatment of animals; and also our blaze attitude toward the most vulnerable of our fellow humans.

At the moment I am very upset that so much that is wrong in our society is based upon reluctance to accept change. Change is what life is all about. Right now there are crises happening that we cannot and should not ignore. “School shootings” have become an almost commonplace phenomena in our so-called “civilized” world.

What’s so surprizing and frightening is that those who are screaming out in agony and anger that the killing of children must be, and can be stopped, are sometimes considered to be heretic and possibly even treasonous!

I believe the Creator has given us the gift of a kind and loving spirit. It seems obvious that we are basically supposed to bear children and do the best we can to look after them. We may screw up in certain aspects of raising them but we love them. Later, as we age and our children have grown, we celebrate the beauty and collective joyousness of being around other people’s children. We want them ALL to have fun, to excell and most importantly of all, to survive. That an unstable or hate-ridden human hurts a child in any way shape or form we must make NOISES.

There is an evangelist on television at the moment and he is definitely inspiring. He believes in the power of prayer and I do agree with him on that. But the Creator has also given us intellect and the ability to make noises. When we are really disturbed about an injustice that can easily be solved, we need to speak out.

I believe our natural state of mind is to be happy or at least tranquil. Things pop up which impell us to help others , or/and communicate with others in comforting ways. That way we find happiness. But if we suffer from depression , that is because it is a biological illness. There are medications that help to an extent. I am a strong believer in therapy as well. We deserve to be happy.

On the other hand there are those out there who care only for themselves.I’ve been thinking about wars and the reasons for wars. I believe most philosophical considerations, such as “freedom” and perhaps even religion, are merely the face that is put on them to disguise the real reason for battling, and that is greed. Dictators such as Hitler and Putin, after they manage to acquire power, want to make a name for themselves by pretending to be good guys ( and big and strong guys, Superman types. Don’t we all love Superman!) The Second World War was about Germany wanting to reacquire trading power on the world scene after losing WW One. Hitler and the Nazi’s seemed to be the heros to the German people. Nazis were excellent at creating propaganda, putting down every racial, sexual, group of people who were not white skinned, blonde, tall and so-called “normal.” I saw stuff in the War Museum in Jerusalem that was disgusting! When I researched for my book “Common Threads” (about my grandmother) I learned WW One had been ignited by the two big trading countries, Britain and Germany, wanting to sell more manufacturing products than the other. Greed pure and simple!

Anxiety Attacks

I’m thinking about anxiety and how it manifests itself. A trigger pops up when you least expect it. One minute you’re happy, joking and enjoying the game you’re participating in with people you like. The next minute you’re judging yourself as not being as worthwhile as the next person. Not even as worthwhile as anyone else in the room! You freeze up. Your game is off. You need to relax but you can’t do that. Part of you wants to go home, crawl into bed and pull the covers over your head. But you’ve experienced this before. Maybe for all the days of your life. You know it will go away but the question is when? Someone tells a joke or you hear music or maybe you accidentally do something you’re proud of? The sun rises once more and you wonder why you felt so insignificant earlier?

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