Poems by Susan Vidd

He moved with deliberate motion
Each step a painful chore
His body bent and crippled
To the depths of his human core.

His skin so slight and fragile
His fingers bent and knobbed
His youth had passed so quickly
It was though he had been robbed.

One joy remained to soothe him
In his long and lonely life;
His family mostly gone now;
parents, children, wife.

To find the peace he desired
He struggled to pick a flower.
There was little else he could do
In this late and golden hour.

It would not be unusual
To pass him without a glance,
For time in youthful measure
Is a long enduring dance.

But if you took one moment
To stop and think of him;
Switch places as you ponder
And really delve within.

You would clearly notice
As he picked that flower near,
Upon his hollow sunken cheek
Was a single golden tear.

With gentle winds aloft preceding summer storm
Through open window dusk a woman sits forlorn

Amidst the earthy briny air a gentle breeze persists
Lace curtains gently shifting with hints of ocean mists

Dimly lit candles of paraffin and wick
Reflecting images on walls of wood and stone and brick.

She will sit and wait as has transpired in the past
With memories and experience of foreboding everlast.

A piece of bread, a drink of rye
with prayers to God there be no eye!

August 27 1856
The Florida Keys

I have experienced many things.
But, really, my life is quite ordinary.

I can talk, walk, dance and sing;
play sports, wear shorts and sport a ring.

I can trim a tree or cut the grass.
I can shovel the snow for you to pass.

I can drive a boat, a car, a truck and a van.
I can crimp some paper and make a fan.

I can cook and bake and clean a stove.
Once, from a platform of eight feet I dove.

I can put out a fire and perform CPR;
accurately identify a bird's call from afar.

I've been mothered and smothered and covered in dirt.
I've worn bug spray and sunscreen and an old tattered shirt.

I've climbed trees and caught bees and examined the bugs.
I played wembley peg with my fingers; changed tires with lugs.

I hopped a train as a kid and rode for a block.
I am totally fascinated by a plain simple rock.

I was able to sail on a boat made of teak;
had to pump out a boat when it sprouted a leak.

I wore a ball gown while being announced with a horn.
I once lived in a state that only grew corn.

I was chauffeured around Washington, D.C.
I felt so special "just look at me".

I can still ride a bike and raise my hand.
I can build a castle made out of white sand.

But before I forget, it is important to note.
There is a meaning to all that I wrote.

I am a mother, grandmother and devoted wife.
That is the extraordinary part of my ordinary life!