AUNT SYLVIA'S PAGE OF POETRY This is a collection of poems taken from the book "To Touch The Earth" which was written by my aunt, Sylvia P. Beres about her life experiences - I hope that you will enjoy reading them If you are interested in purchasing a copy of her book, contact me by email LET'S SHARE THIS DAY Yellow Ochre, sheaves of grain - Crystal tear drops in the rain Busy bees on blossoms rare - Crisp the golden morning air Misty mountains in distant sky - A choir of meadowlarks nearby Sweet the taste of fresh grown corn - Another golden day is born THE ANTIQUE CHAIR The antique chair was weathered and worn The arm was broken and the seat was torn It stood at the back of an old used shop It was covered with dust and forgotten about There was something about the rickety chair that drew my attention each time I went there Somewhere hidden in the back of my mind I knew I had seen a chair of that kind And as often will happen my memory cleared and I saw my grandfather sitting there WHAT AM I BID? Two of my most valued possessions are: an old doll dressed in a traditional European costume lovingly made by its owner She wears a beautiful, blue satin dress with a dainty, white chiffon apron Adorning her head is a tiara of tiny beads gracefully entwined with an array of white tear drop flowers - White silk stockings complete her ensemble An old family bible dating back to 1883 It's pages are parched and yellow and must be handled very carefully now They sit near my bed where I can look at them and only wonder at their history for they were bought by auction and bid ESTATE SALE, the paper read   TO REAP THE PRAIRIE WIND For thirty years he fought the prairie wind that howled and drained his soul His once strong body yielding now to age and disappointment as he tried to fight the shifting soil and make it yield - to no avail And when the hidden fear was voiced Depression might be near His furrowed brow raised just a bit and with the pain hidden deep within his eyes, he asked, "Has it ever left?"   VISITING HOURS Vacant eyes - Suspended smile - Shadows blowing visions of a child Reaching our to stroke her hair - Laughing now talking to a man who really isn't there Quiet now - they're gone in time - The aftermath of memory like frozen sheets forever clinging to the clothesline of her mind EBB TIDE Adrift am I alone at sea The tide comes in and goes out endlessly The seagull cries out in despair I call your name you are not there I tell myself be strong - steadfast The storm subsides the heartache lasts MORNING PRAYERS I am any empty vessel, Lord - With yesterday left behind Please fill my soul with peace and love toward my fellow man Let me extend some kindness or help someone in need For I've been blessed with riches that you have given me Let me spread a little sunshine as I go along my way And Lord, again I thank thee for every golden day A GRANDMOTHER'S WISH I wish you health and joy I wish you strength of mind and soul I wish you love and peace I wish you fairness and honesty I wish you creativity - the will to see it through Strive for excellence, give of your best in everything you try to do May tomorrow bring you only the very best But most of all my wish for you is a long life of happiness OH NO Wake up sleepy head and meet the sun There's so many things that must be done Brush your teeth and comb your hair Wash your face - now hurry up there The porridge is hot, your lunch pail's here Hurry up now - there's no time to spare Look out the window - Is the school bus coming? Oh my gracious - It's Saturday morning!! PRECIOUS MEMORIES Today's memories can be yesterdays tears They could be love and laughter from yester-year They could be good times with family and those that you loved Or they could be heartache and sorrow for someone you haven't forgot Hold on to your memories as though they were silver or gold For when you're alone they could give you pleasure untold Lock them away in your heart and hold on to them For memories are precious and can be lived over and over again THE ASSASSINATION His head held high - he stood upright His antlers upright - His antlers measured Royal Upon his tightened muscles sun rays reflected gold A cloud of breath ascended high as he gave his bugle call The air was crisp, the pathway green, close to the water hole The mountains hid the evergreens The evergreens hid him, he drank his fill He grazed with ease then Wapiti laid down He quickly left his resting place when he heard the branches break A shot rang out - the bullet hit - and Wapiti was dead TO BE PERFECTLY FRANK When she was young her mother and father wanted a perfect child, and she tried. When she was a teen the man of her dreams wanted a perfect wife, and she tried. When she was older all of her children wanted a perfect mother, and she tried. Now she is old and alone, where have they gone? "What have I done?" she asked, and she cried.   INSIDE MY TREASURE CHEST He has blessed me with riches all that life has to hold He has given me sight to view life in full He gave me the gold from the rays of the sun and diamonds from heaven, from the stars and the moon He filled up my basket with food from the earth He gave me cool water to quench my thirst He gave me my man to walk by my side my friend, my companion, my lover, my guide He has blessed me with children two of the best and each child was precious when held to my breast These are the riches my Father gave me and each gift is cherished and each gift was free   FIRST PRIZE The County fair was a week away My daughter reminded me For some time now I had entered and won A few prizes for home baking "Mom, let's both enter this year Let's bake exactly the same Some cake and pies and dinner buns" To argue with her was in vain The cakes were iced and the pies were baked The dinner buns piping hot I couldn't wait till I got to the fair To see how she made out I had heaped my lemon pie high with meringue In hope the judge it might please But to my dismay, second prize it was given My daughter had beaten me The smile on her face was sheer delight The joy in her heart you could see The day she beat Mom with her lemon pie And took the red ribbon from me   A HANDFUL OF DIRT I will take a handful And hold it in my hands And think that from this dust God created man He then filled up the earth With everything we need An abundance of all food All we do is plant the seed The grain to make the flour The vegetables and fruit The honey from the flowers God gave us all of these From birth it sustains us It is worth far more than gold And as the bible tells us From dust we all came And to dust we will go   ALBERTA The river belly is full this year The coulees are verdant green The amber waves of autumn wheat Waltz gently in the breeze The mountains in the distant sky Reflect the purple hues Of golden prairie, sunset night And lilacs rich in bloom The rustle of the Poplar trees The softly humming wind The meadowlark in distant field And I am home again   BEHIND MY WINDOW SILL Haunting, soft, melodious sounds Steal past my window sill Imitating butterflies On strings of violins   Softly as a lover's kiss Upon a sleeping brow Piercing as a mating call From out the wilderness   In repose, I lie there still Till clouds come dancing by And lift me up, and we are one The Universe, and I   ROCKY MOUNTAIN LANDSCAPE The blue majestic mountain peaks Snow-capped and laced with ice Like great cathedral spires Reach up to touch the sky   The glacier streams run crystal clear Their viewing lifts the soul The cedars sway like giants Protecting the undergrowth   Shadows change from mauve to blue Clouds are ermine white Crimson, gold and purple blooms Descend the mountain side   The valley carpet lush with green Outlines the river's bend In rhythmic waves of solitude It soothes the heart of man   MY HANDS These hands have held a newborn child Explored each tiny, perfect limb And marveled at the miracle Of birth they held within   These hands have toiled from dawn till dusk And welcomed each new task Enjoyment came from busy hands They have done all I asked   When my soul shall leave my body And in your presence stand With deep appreciation, Lord I will thank thee for my hands AUTUMN'S CHILD The earth was changing its dressing gown From green to orange and brown The little boy stood with a smile on his face As the leaves fell gently down   Why do the leaves fall from the trees? Why do they fall to the ground? Why does the grass turn from green To gold, then orange and brown?   Why do the flowers dry up and die? And the birds fly away in the fall? Why can't we have summer all year round And the trees stay green and tall?   That's the way it is, my son Since the beginning of time A seed will grow and bloom and die And come back when the sun starts to shine   Look my son, at the wind that blows As it sweeps the leaves and the dust So a carpet of snow can cover it all Let it rest to replenish its soul   But it won't be long, just a little while And nature will burst out again Into beautiful blooms and leaves and grass And the birds will begin to sing   There's no real beginning and no real end To the wonder of it all Just the beauty and grace of nature's gifts Like the beautiful colors this fall   The little boy smiled, his mind at ease And started to walk away His little feet kicked at the fallen leaves As the dusk overshadowed the day HAPPY 75TH BIRTHDAY, ALBERTA Pioneer souls our province built Steadfast people, brave and true On they trod with inner strength Thanking God along the way   Breaking sod and planting crops Raising families on they toiled Drought and famine took their share Depression years were hard to bear   Celebrations now are due Birthday candles shining bright Alberta pioneers, we honor thee You lead the way, we follow you   LIFE     Life is like a patchwork quilt No two are the same Some are made of soft pastels Some are bright and gay   Some days, like the rainbow Are a rare and perfect blend Of blue and pink and golden hues Which have been heaven sent   Some days are a rosy red Some are lily white Some days are a little blue Somewhat subdued and quiet   Some days are a golden bright Like daffodils in spring Some days are like fresh-mowed grass Crisp and cool and green The yesterdays and the tomorrows Are gathered up with silk And gently woven they become A lifelong patchwork quilt A ROTTEN DAY The little boy stumbled and hurt his toe On the bottom step at school A more rotten day he couldn't have had It seemed he broke every rule   The gum he was chewing was placed on his nose In front of the class he stood The tears he held back, he just couldn't let go He promised himself he'd be good   And he tried, he really did Till that spitball he felt on his neck That darn big old bully was at it again "Enough is enough" he said   So he cautiously waited till teacher was turned And then did he ever let go OOOHH - The spitball sped past the rest of the class And got the teacher instead   Two weeks after school he had to put in "I don't think I'll make it" he said "I hate school, I hate teacher, I hate EVERYTHING" And with that he bent down his head   "There goes the bell at last" he cried Out of his desk he flew He finally got past those clumsy old steps And ran till his house was in view   Mom was standing in the doorway at home "Hello there, how are you son?" From his home came the beautiful smell Of Mom making cinnamon buns   He sat down with Mom and had a glass of cold milk And a beautiful hot, sticky bun A few moments later he forgot all his woes And the whole world was good again DREAMS When I was a child, I dreamed I could fly I'd fly around and around And just when I would begin to fall I'd wake up and I'd laugh at it all   Another dream I had back then Was one I never did tell I'd see jars and jars of candy so good In colors just out of this world   And when I reached up to grab a few I'd wake up and I never did reach That beautiful candy I wanted so much And I'd lie there unable to sleep   As I look back now and ponder it all I wonder if that's how it is You can fly, you can reach, you can touch it all But it's not really yours to keep WE CAN'T WIN THEM ALL It matters not if we've won and laughed Or if we've lost and cried   The most important part of it all I think, is the fact we tried THE PRAIRIE ROSE This never-ending howling wind That strips the soil and breaks the man This barren land where nothing grows Still yields a perfect, prairie rose   This everlasting ball of fire Can parch the land and soul of man And leave the barren waste that shows Yet yield a perfect, prairie rose   Oh, that the heavens would open wide Pour down the rain we so desire Fill up our rivers and soothe our souls Symbolic of the perfect, prairie rose      © (1982)  Sylvia P. Beres Please do not copy without permission by author All rights reserved Last Updated: