Thursday, August 3, 2017

A Mystery

Yesterday, I watched two tiny fledglings in our yard.  I don't know much about birds and can only identify a few of them.  I couldn't get a clear picture, but later when I checked the internet, I believe they were Blue-gray Gnatcatchers. The picture and description seemed to fit.





Anyway, as I watched these two babies trying to learn how to fly, I noticed that Mama was giving all of her attention to just one of them.  She stayed very close to it and raised a ruckus when other birds came near.  The other fledgling was way on the other side of the yard and just kind of hopped about and fluttered on its own.  Mama pretty much ignored the little guy.

I went out to get a closer look, and all three flew under a nearby shrub.  Soon after that, it started to rain, and I didn't see them again. But, I've been wondering about those babies ever since.  Did Mama really have a favorite?    If so, why did she choose that one over the other? They both looked exactly the same in size, coloring, and ability.  Well, all that wondering led to this poem.

Baby Bird

Today I watched you
on our lawn
walk, hop, flutter—
learning how
to fly.

On the other side,
your brother
was learning too—
Your mama
close by
protecting him.

But, you—
she left you
all alone
to survive
on your own.

I wonder…

Why?

©Linda Kulp Trout


A special thank you to Donna for hosting today's Poetry Friday at Mainely Write.












Thursday, July 13, 2017

Poetry Friday


Today is  National Macaroni and Cheese Day, and it's the theme for this week's Poetry Friday.





My seven-year old granddaughter and I are having our own week writing retreat this week, so I only have time for a quick post.  Evie and I wrote this poem together. It was inspired by her little brother, Victor, who loves macaroni and cheese. He does enjoy a few other foods, but macaroni and cheese is one of his favorites.

                                                        Here's Victor enjoying his lunch.  


Picky Eater

Macaroni and cheese,
macaroni and cheese,

Victor only eats
macaroni and cheese.

Don’t give him pasta,
tacos, spinach, or peas.

He will not eat them,
even if you say, “Please.”

Victor only eats
macaroni and cheese,

Macaroni and cheese,
macaroni and cheese.

All Victor wants is
macaroni and cheese!


©Linda Kulp Trout and Evelyn Kulp


Tabatha is hosting our celebration today at The Opposite of Indifference. 









Thursday, June 15, 2017

Poetry Friday


Father's Day

I don’t remember him.
(He left when I was three.)


He never ever calls.
He doesn't visit me.


I hug my pillow close
pretending it’s my dad.


Growing up without him—
makes my heart feel sad.


If he were here with me,
I know what I would say:


I still love you, Daddy.
Happy Father’s Day.



©Linda Kulp Trout



I had planned to write a happy poem to celebrate Father's Day.  Instead, I kept thinking about how for many children, Father's Day is difficult.  This is the poem that wanted to be written tonight.  It still needs work, but here's what I have so far.

A big thank you to Carol for hosting today's Poetry Friday.






Thursday, June 1, 2017

The True Meaning of Success


What defines a successful life?  When we're young, we tend to believe success is based on our achievements, but as we grow older, living a successful life takes on new meaning.
Recently, I attended a memorial service for Miss Eva, a beloved family member.  Miss Eva never received a college degree, never earned a large salary, and her poems were never on the Best Seller list. She didn’t travel the world or own expensive possessions; yet she was one of the most successful people I’ve ever known. 
On the day of her memorial service, the chapel was filled with people who came to celebrate her life.  One after another, folks stood up to tell stories about the ways Eva had touched their lives.  The words “joy” and “love” were used again and again to describe her life and her gift to others.

Miss Eva was someone who lived by her faith. She had kind words for everyone. She spread hugs, laughter, and joy.  She gave her time freely to anyone who needed help. She saw beauty in nature and in all people. 

Everything she did from growing her garden, writing heartfelt poems, spending time with friends and family and sending greeting cards with personal messages— were all done out of love.  She never expected recognition for her kind acts, instead she gave God all the praise and glory.

As I sat at her memorial, I thought of the poem “Success” and how well it described Miss Eva’s life.


Miss Eva was an amazing woman who knew the true meaning of success was LOVE.  She inspired many lives, including mine, and continues to spread joy through her poetry.

Bonded in Love

At the end of each day, can we look back and say,...
that we cared for our family and showed it?
Or must we admit, we forget quite a bit
and take for granted they know it.

Time has slipped by and so much we have missed,
but all is not lost if we start.
To show what we feel and make it real
and let it come from the heart.

So with love in our hearts, let it show in our lives.
Let us always be happy together.
Look over the bad times and beyond to the good.
Let’s be bonded in love forever.

© Eva M. Yingling



THANKSGIVING 1991

For the special way you touch my life,...
your loving, caring way.
This is what I’m thankful for,
each and every day.
There’s many precious memories,
of days and years gone by.
and no one can erase them,
no matter how they try.
For they are etched within my heart,
they’re something I hold dear.
And I will always cherish them,
each day throughout the year.
Thanksgiving day is every day,
for I’m the mother of,
the greatest family on this earth
a family built on love.

© Eva M. Yingling


Have a great weekend!
For many poetry love, head on over to visit my friend at Buffy's Blog for today's roundup!

Thursday, April 27, 2017

#wonderbreak17 Gratitude Poems

Cotton Candy Afternoon

a fluff of pink
a fluff of blue

one for me
the other for you—

in sugared air
and thread of sun

the two of us
having fun

we talk, we laugh
we play, we eat

a swirl of friendship
spun sticky sweet


©Linda Kulp Trout2017




I love cotton candy, but I hadn't eaten any since my sons were small.  I had forgotten all about this sweet melt-in-your mouth treat. So, I'm grateful my grandchildren brought cotton candy into my life!   Last year at the carnival, my granddaughter asked for cotton candy on a stick, but the vendor only had cotton candy in a bag. She and I decided that would work!  Yum!

A big thank you to the very talented Joann for hosting today's Poetry Friday at Teaching Authors.



Thursday, April 20, 2017

#wonderbreak NPM Gratitude Poems

Before Recycling

one jar
almost empty
peanut butter plus dog
equals tongue-lapping, lip-smacking—
all gone
            

©Linda Kulp Trout
#wonderbreak



Photo by Gail Kulp

I thankful for the wonderful pictures people post of their pets. My daughter-in-law posted this picture of her dog, Rosie on Facebook.  I can imagine how much fun she had licking that peanut butter jar clean.  I don't have a dog, and I did not know they like peanut butter.  I did a little research and found a cute video.  If you need a smile, take a look.



A big thank you to Tabatha for hosting today's poetry roundup at The Opposite of Indifference.

Thursday, April 13, 2017

#wonderbreak NPM: Gratitude Poems






       Autism


What goes on inside
the mind of a child
who does not speak?

What thoughts?
What hopes?
What fears?
What dreams?

I search for answers
locked behind his eyes—

Is he happy?
Is he lonely?

Does he know
how deeply he is loved?

I pray someday
he will find the words
to tell me—

His thoughts
His hopes
His fears
His dreams

My precious grandson—
who does not speak.

©Linda Kulp Trout


My grandson, Victor, is autistic.  His verbal skills are mostly limited to words and phrases. Communication is challenging, and sometimes he becomes frustrated.  He wants to be independent, but he needs constant supervision in order to keep him safe.  The world with its sensory overload can be overwhelming and frightening for him. 

But, autism is only part of who Victor is.  Like other little boys, he loves to run and play. He loves to dig in the dirt and splash in water. He has a tender heart and a gentle way with animals. His infectious laughter sends joy through my heart.   

Even with all his struggles, Victor is a lucky little boy.   He was born to parents, my son and daughter-in-law, who are devoted to him in every way.  They provide him with opportunities to learn and gain independence.   They take him places and give him a wide variety of experiences. Raising a child with autism can be emotionally and physically exhausting, yet I’ve never heard a single complaint from either of them.  They accept and love Victor for the creative, smart, and beautiful child he is. 

 You can read more about Victor here.

I am thankful for today’s roundup at Dori Reads.