Friday, June 4, 2010

I love Summer!!!

Give me the sweet heat. I love the smells, the feel of the heavier air... The loudness and then at night the chirp of crickets and a full moon and stars through my bedroom window.

Restore Me

Sweet dry scent of baking grass
I stretch inhaling fragrance
I feel your slender stalks
Gently press against my skin
Warm for a moment
Then heat envelopes
Tempered by cool breezes
As the sun pours over me
Birds whistle and chirp
Peaceful and tranquil
Nature's intensity dissolves mine
"Listen" it calls to me
"Feel" it calls to me
"Peace, be calm... rest."
Summer day restore me

Carrie Jones May 24 2000

I love laying partially under a tree on a summer day and taking a nap or a good book to read. Just listen to the sounds of my neighborhood. Kids laughing, dogs barking and vehicles honking. Music blaring from a window.

Listen to the birds chirp and whistle.

I haven't done it yet this year, but I hope to tomorrow. For me it is a long tradition from when I was a kid and would lie along the irrigation ditch with my sister and brother making necklaces out of snake grass. Or under the tree in our front yard on a pink and blue? wool blanket with a book to read.


Wednesday, June 2, 2010


There comes a time when you get ground down, whittled, worn, burnished to what you are. To what is really important to you. When you start to realize on what and who you need to focus your attentions on.

When I was young, I started writing. It first was journal entries. Then it was plays. Then about when I was twelve I discovered Poetry.

I did not start out great, I stumbled , tossed, crumpled and poured out messes onto paper. Once in a great while small bits, mere glimmers of potential would come forth.

I would like to thank a few people.

To Miss Hatch, my fourth grade Teacher, thank you for helping me to discover I could write. I thank you.
To Mr. Jones, my ninth grade English Teacher, thank you for encouraging me I could write well.
To Jill Rasmussen for teaching me about rhythm, and Monty Python in Mr. Mauchley's Biology class.
To Ms. Condie , my Senior English Teacher for encouraging me to submit to the Tumbleweed. My first published work.

To God, Life, Friends and my Family, thank you for helping me to reach in and find more than a surface area to work with.

So here, why not? Why not publish here. I need to write, it helps me stay sane, when all around me is chaos.

I guess one thing I have always needed more of was courage.

Here goes.


I feel disconnected from who I am
Or thought I would be
I try to capture the memories
Of what defined me
Misty trailers of thought
Shadowed glimpses of my past
Of the Evolution
Domino effect
Tumbling down walls
Traits go all directions
Spread far apart
Like fractured puzzles
Pieces lost or missing
I go searching
Calling my own name
As if it applies
I am isolated
From no one...

But my own self

Carrie L. Jones 09-26-1999

I am posting this one first.

I guess it is because as life throws a few curve balls my way... This is the one that I identify with. How I have to re-evaluate who I am, what I want in life and what I stand for. What are my hopes, what is it I am looking for?

The truth is, no matter how many "guru's", philosophers, leading authorities, etc. etc. I read, the only person who can really know me or discover who I am or my potential, is myself.

I am still on this Journey. This etc.

I must continue even though I falter at times. To get back up, to struggle, work and fight towards....

Well that is the other end of the equation. My life is like a Story problem that I do not yet know the answer to except for A+B= C The C of course is me.