Monday, June 3, 2013

My Little Boy Blue

Child so soft and swaddled in blue
Close your eyes, while I hear you coo.
Each click of the clock
Makes cream your skin.
And with you in my arms, I feel young again.
Your mother I see, with a dimple just there
So sleep for a time and let the world wait,
Let me steal this moment, until you awake.
Softer than velvet, and new in your gaze
As I watch both you and your mommy asleep.

Benny The Beaver Finds A New Home

Grandpa marched up the lane to the house. His arms were swinging fast keeping perfect time with his feet. Nana and I were certain from his walk, he was very unhappy.

“Well my green-eyed beauties that old beaver is at it again.” Grandpa spouted.

“Oh no,” I said.

“What has he done this time? Nana gazed over her glasses.

“Well I’ll tell you he dammed up the hay meadow. That’s what!” He thundered, but his eyes twinkled from the challenge.

“Now dear you know you shouldn’t fight with the animals,” Nana smiled and winked my way.

“He started it.” Before we could say another word Grandpa was off to the tool shed.

“Brianna my sweet keep an eye on Grandpa while I finish cooking.”

So I grabbed my crutches and headed to the living-room. He yelled for Cowboy our dog. “Dog, why is that beaver in my hay meadow?” Cowboy just stared sadly with his big brown eyes. He knew that the rancher was upset. That was the only time he called him Dog.
“Now you go and run that varmint off my meadow.” Grandpa explained with big and bold arm movements and away Cowboy, and his sister Ruby ran.

Now Benny was no stranger to trouble. It seemed folks were always running him off. He could see the two dogs running from the house on the hill straight-down to his little corner. Immediately, he started cutting down a big cedar tree hoping it would hide the entrance to his den. That silly beaver was chewing up and spitting out tree bark as fast as he could.

I quickly hopped to the picture window to see the big to-do happening in my own backyard. As the dogs moved out of sight, I jolted over to the southwest corner window and leaned on my crutches.

"Nana, the dogs are running after Benny!" The excitement almost stole my breath. Cowboy is a white cow-dog with black patches and two red apple cheeks, while his sister Ruby is white with brown ears and red freckles all over.
"Now don't you worry my little cotton-top. They will be fine."
Now Grandpa was pitching out tools to drag down to the meadow. He paused for a moment to rest, pushed his straw hat back and then wiped his brawl. Then he tossed-out an axe, and the 600 GX chainsaw.
“Nana, I’m afraid he means business. He is grumbling to himself,” I giggled as I watched.
Nana seemed too busy frying up supper to care about the hullabaloo outside, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the window. Grandpa had all his tools on the four-wheeler, and the dogs were rounding the corner of the barn. They were halfway there, and that silly old beaver stood up on his back feet and leaned against that old tree with all his might.
Wow, this was exciting. Cowboy and Ruby were close enough now to see Benny, and they began barking up a storm. I could hear Grandpa yelling at the dogs, “Look! Look!” and the dogs just keep barking louder and louder. At the very same time, both dogs shimmied under the fence. The beaver planted his tail on the ground and gave a mighty push and down came the tree. Grandpa swung open the gate and jumped back on the four-wheeler. That old beaver slapped his tail on the ground four or five times as if he was chuckling at all of them, and then he leaped into the air with a somersaults and landed in the water without even a splash.

I was so excited I couldn’t decide who to cheer for. Ruby sprang into the air and landed on the red cedar tree but not Cowboy he dove in after Benny. Benny wiggled and twisted in the water coming up in this underwater den. Snickering just a little thinking he was very cleaver. However, before he could take one-step Cowboy, sprang up out of the water, and the fight was on.

Ruby was digging her way into the den while Benny and Cowboy were wrestling from corner to corner. Grandpa joined in the ruckus wielding his axe, so the water could flow into the gully. He could hear Cowboy snarling and the two brawlers thrashing about. Finally, there were enough limbs and branches pulled free that the dam gave way and as the water rushed by so did Cowboy and Benny. The flow of the water sent them straight into the gully.

Grandpa yelled in a happy voice. “What a good boy,” and with those very words, Cowboy lost interest in fighting. He run up to Grandpa waging his tale as Grandpa patted his head. Benny looked around at the gully he landed in and wondered how it was he had missed such a good spot for a den. Nana yelled that supper was ready, so I rang the dinner bell. Everyone was happy with the day’s outcome; I couldn’t wait to get to school to tell my big tale.

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

A Stroll With Nanna

With traveling shoes and a walking stick Nana and I head out for a trip.

The day is young and the breeze quite cool

so a sweater I grabbed as we head outdoors,

and an adventure begins with the sound of the door.


A scent of sugar fills up my nose and

A hummingbird we spy near our lilac bush,

He is clicking and red, dancing about

trying to impress females that are hidden about.


With our next step Cowboy our dog we do find

Carrying a foot that belongs to a Hind

“Oh my,” Says I “that is not good”

But Nana keeps walking and spoke not a word.


We head down the hill and exited the lane

by our little red gate I spy a black snake

but with Nana’s great stride she steps on across

and I dare myself to follow her true.

I too steped across just like I knew.


Last year’s pecan I clutched in my hand

till a squirrel I did hear

Ranting and raving, he was pitching a fit so the nut I did toss

and with the nut in hand he scampered away.


A skip and a hop placed me smack-dab in the woods and Nana keep
walking wheeling her staff weaving through trees and cutting a path.

We rounded a log and a dragonfly flew by

it was brilliantly blue and trimmed out in yellow.

My Nana kept walking her expression was mellow.


Soon with each step she began to sing,

and the sound of her voice made my heart ring.


She came to the top and leaned on her staff

And I gazed at the picture that with her steps she just led.

A valley below cropped in clover, deep cloves of green

Crowned in purple.

A billowing willow danced in the wind

and a large boulder of gray gave shade to some twins.

Springs early fawns dusted in spots.

Tiny and elegant, their beauty crept in my thoughts.


A brook of clear water twisted around and then back.

New to my amazement I spied a young calf. Blacker than night

With a coat of pure velvet he wobbled and hunted

for his mid-morning meal and again I was bewildered by all I did see.


A speck of brown did I spy way up high until the colorless moth landed just
there. As moments passed a shape I could tell a clan of vultures

Now perched on a tree watching the baby that was now watching me.

This circle of life brought joy to my soul and I leaned against Nana who
leaned on her staff and we gazed out below us at the trail we soon would

Saturday, January 22, 2011

From Grandma's Front Porch

A Story by Cherrie Palmer
" golden memories"
   A Story by Cherrie Palmer

golden memories

   Silence was broken by the sound of quick moving feet rushing down the lane and blowing up onto the porch.

“Child, slow yourself,” said the old woman. “Come sit with me and tell me of the day.” Her voice was a rich smooth southern drawl that could lull you right to sleep.

  “Grand, little black clouds lace the sky. The day is warm and the breeze moves down the lane faster than my feet.” Anna said while dancing in place. 

“Sit down here,” she patted to the seat next to her on the swing. “I’m blind not dead. I already knew those things.”   She raised her head level with the horizon and offered a weary smile. “Anna, my love, I wanted to hear of the day from you. Must I tell you of the day, seeing how you can not see?” 

“Grandma, you’re blind, how can you tell me?” The nine year old said with her feet swinging in the air.

“Silly girl," she said with a chuckle, "you’d be surprised about what I can see.” Lilly’s dead-eyes sparkled. Her love of life never drained from their prisms, a fact that Anna loved. For Lilly’s gaze was enchanting, her silver hair neatly tucked in a bun and lines of wisdom framed her face in warmth. “Well it has been cold for ten nights running. So the scrub oaks are a rich crimson red lining the ridge that stands before us. Pecan trees are trimmed in a soft yellow and their rich brown bounty hang by a thread. While the lumbering pines are ever-green. The creamy beige coat of the White Tale has turned to a mushroom brown just like the johnson grass.”

“Wow that’s amazing Grand, what else can you see?”

“I see my field of prairie grass in a muted auburn with a glint of gold. The breeze walks among it, mingling with the stalks. On bended knee they bow their backs and lower their heads. It is an offering to the Almighty, as wave, after wave raises them back up lifting their heads to heaven.”

“Why didn’t I see all of that?” Said Anna.

“You tell me, originally it was my question to you?”

“I guess I was too busy wanting a snack.” The girl said with a mile wide smile.

“Bring me something back as well” but before Lilly could say another word the whirl wind of youth ripped into the house, strawberry hair bellowing behind and eyes of emerald darting around corners.

Lilly is Anna’s great-grandma. Anna spends everyday after school with her. Her mother said she would outgrow these visits, but Lilly knows this bond will never break.

“Milk and a ham sandwich or cookies?” Belted the girl in an easy southern drawl all her own.

“Surprise me.”

“All three it is, then,” she half-way sang.

“Grand, tell me something, something good, something I’ve never heard before.” The girl settled down in hopes for a wondrous tale, of days long past. A hint of Grand's perfume made her feel all warm and happy inside.

“One day this place will be yours.” The words came out of the blue, they had a far away sound to them.

“This place will always be yours,” said the child, shaking her head as she spoke.
Lilly’s eyes twinkled and looked right through Anna. All of a sudden Anna’s eyes were flooded with tears, as the meaning of the words came clear.

“Oh Grandma, I will keep your house and yard the same, right down to the flowers.”

“You can keep me in your heart, but the home will be yours to do as you please,”

*** Twenty years later ***

Anna sat on the swing gazing over the field of prairie grass and a crossed the red tipped ridge. She slow sipped her coffee and snuggled up in her favorite quilt that still smelled of White Shoulders. Then she turned her gaze to the empty canvas and with paint-brush in hand she whispered. “Grand, let me tell you of the day.”

© 2011 Cherrie Palmer

The Forest That Grew From Love

A Story by Cherrie Palmer
" A camping story for children   "



"Papa, tell me again how this forest came to be" she asked.

"Well Peyton, not all of this story is a happy one, but sit down here beside me and I will begin. A hundred years ago this place was just a field."

"Papa!" Gage bellowed. "Don’t start the story without me." He flung himself through the air, landing in his grandpa’s lap. Caleb, two years older than the other two tried to act uninterested but hung on his every word.

"Ok, where was I? Oh yeah. Prairie grass, tall and waving in the wind, stood right in the spot we are camping. A river partly circled this spot, forming a horseshoe bend. An Indian tribe lived on either side of this place, but no one lived in the center. In the beginning the two tribes did not trust each other, and this was neutral ground. Now on the East bank lived a Kiowa Tribe and a certain boy named Thundering Bear. On the opposing bank the Choctaw people lived with a little girl named Willow.

One day they both wondered to the prairie field. The two became fast friends and met there often. As time went on they fell in love,
and on their seventeenth year by the harvest moon wed. The two tribes were furious but finally the elders gave in and decided to let them live on the prairie meadow that fell between them.

They enjoyed many years together. They had two sons and a daughter. They were blessed to see them all wed and the grandchildren that were added to their namesake. Now Willow loved the forest and the songs sang by nature. She especially loved to hear the wind. Many an evening see sat on a large boulder by the river’s edge and listened to the babbling waters and the wind walking through the trees. She never outgrew her love for this place even after years of living kept her from climbing on the boulder.

On her seventy-first birthday, just as the sun rose and the wind crept up the prairie side to meet her, she died. Her husband laid her to rest next to the lodge where they spent their lives and at the foot of her grave planted a willow. In hopes that the wind would keep her company. Now as time would have it and before the next full moon he joined her. It was not by chance that the next full moon was the harvest moon, and on that night under the evening stars each member of the family planted either a tree or a flower or bush. Until this great forest in which we sit was formed.

 It took only twelve short years to build this forest and on the thirteenth year the family had spread across the country like the wind, that Willow loved. Now each year on the harvest moon Willow’s children’s children take a tree, flower or bush home with them. In tribute to their love.

© 2010 Cherrie Palmer