~ Sticky Kiss ~

Butterflies and Eskimo's
Have a claim on this act
Whether quickie or French
Must practice for tact

Pucker up or open up
Depends on the type
And much like fine Wine
It's wet or it's dry

By my favorite is sticky
In whatever flavor
My son takes his sucker
Wraps it up just for later

He puckers and waits
Eyes closed rather tight
I cringe and debate
Which side, left or right

I press my cheek softly
My face close to his
I feel a sticky smooch
I thank God he didn't miss

The look in his eyes
Future scrubbing so worth it
I hear an "I love you"
My bad day is made perfect

And with his sweet smile
His eyes dancing in bliss
I tell him "I love you"
All sealed with a kiss
~
© Bobbie Sandlin
~
For Theme Thursday: Kiss
We're supposed to keep in clean...I failed miserably lol.

~ Our Little Brood ~

A little bit of me
A little bit of you
Jumbled up together
To create our little brood

Our three little mice
Running all around
In very loud contentment
Heaven can be found

Three toothless smiles
Laughter here and there
All their corny antics
With lots of love to share

As they sprout like bean poles
And become such know it alls
Discipline and loving hugs
Will keep them safe and strong

And soon the day will come
They'll decide to move away
And me and you will dance for joy
Create our holiday

But alas….

A little bit of her
A little bit of him
Jumbled up together
To create our little gems

Smiley and wonderful
Such a beautiful sight
But when the little gems go home
We sleep so sound all night

Close our doors and windows
Enjoy the peace and quiet
We'll sit and rock remembering
How life was such a riot
~
© Bobbie Sandlin
~
I've been looking through my blogs and forgot my other poetry blog when I was trying to save work from my disk (it went bad lol). This is an oldie, but I remember smiling at the way this came out.

~ Mother's Buttons ~

Sorting through buttons
Rainbow colors in glass jars
Pour them out on plates

Helping my Mother
find just the right one for my
blouse she's been making

To me, such a treat
Like searching for lost relics
Each like precious stones

Some have two or four
holes..some have no holes at all
Mom wants shanks, no holes

Some furry, but most
solid and designed in shapes
My eyes in delight

I want fur..I frown
as Mom frowns, shakes her head no
"Too big, it's for coats"

I still frown, and pout
Mom perks an eyebrow and points
"Like in this pile"

"But those are so small!"
Mom shoots me that look..defeat
I glare at pile

With a goal I go
Exploring for tiny gems
The furry mock me

And then a sweet find
Curvy, glistening ruby
smooth and plump button

Cradled in my hand
"Look!" thou which denied me fur
Thunk it, just said "Mom"

Her beautiful eyes
Twinkled in her approval
She grins, "That's perfect!"

My heart leaps, happy
Not for finding the button
For joy, in our search
~
© Bobbie Sandlin
~
Writing Exercise: Theme Thursday: Buttons

Picture: Button Jars! gemgirlart

~ Brothers ~

Infinitely being
Dreaming
The pain doesn't let me go
Time has ceased
To Be
I don't recognize anything

Darkened hues reflecting
My Blues
The world seems so rainbow less
Surrounded by sacred stones, in vain
My Pain
Can't move forward, collapsing

Inscribed within my mind
Our Time
When we lived, bathed in sunshine's hues
I touch your name on your chiseled stone
So Alone
Yet, I feel your presence

Our time has come, it's the end
Best Friend
But, you'll be forever living I know
Brother, one day beyond dreams
Eternally
We'll be together again
~
© Bobbie Sandlin
~

For Writing Exercise: RW theme: Spooky, is one of those surprises. I was looking at the picture, and was just focused on their blurred faces. I didn't get "spooky" out of this, especially with the tones of the photo. I let out the first stanza, and the poem wrote itself from there.

Photo: Cemetery in Malvern by Doug Shaver

~ Family History ~

Olden hands, open book

Flip from page to page
Familiar smile, misty eyes
Long for bygone days

Pictures old and tattered
Stagnant browns and grays
Faded color, rips and tears
Oh marvel at the page

Standing in their prime
Vibrant in their youth
Stand alone, or family
Such a motley group

Dresses overflowing
Blouses to their necks
Prim and proper, beautiful
These women at their best

Donning handsome Sunday garb
Men strike their manly pose
Their faces full of history
These pictures surely show

Babies in their christening gowns
Children dolled up and proper
Lived and gone some children are
Can't help but sit and ponder

Window to the past
These pictures truly prove
Love and treasure history
Instill it in our youth

Another page, another group
Of family dead and gone
To wonder at their ways and whys
Their memories live on

Flip a page, crack a smile
Another memory
Grandma, Grandpa, Parent and Child
Our family history
~
~© Bobbie Sandlin~
~

~ Family Reunion ~

Cars arriving up to park

It’s a hot and humid day
Parking close or around the block
The family makes their way

They prepare a banquet for all to feast
Put lawn chairs out to sit
"Hello, How are you?" Fills the air
Hugs and smiles, their faces lit

Aunts and Uncles, Grandparents too
And Parents with newborn babes
The teenagers sulk and roll their eyes
As young ones run to play

Some of the family, so very close
They act like the best of friends
Others are distant to only a few
Disagreement and spats yet to end

The older folk laugh and talk
Spread gossip and speak of the past
Way back then, the way it was
Can’t believe how time flew so fast

Parents show off their beautiful brood
Brag about what their children have done
The toddler now finally potty trained
The kids and their antics and fun

Favorite recipes on the table
Mac and Cheese, fried chicken, and beans
There’s even a pie, cool whip on the side
And a jug of sweetened sun tea

They gather together, dipping out food
Arranging heaps upon paper plates
They settle to eat, they bow their heads
As Grandpa, so thankful, says Grace

“Thank you Father for this day
My family from far and near
Have come together for this feast
Only happens ‘bout once a year

Bless the newborn precious babes
You’ve blessed this family with
And bless and keep the few that passed
Our loved ones, we greatly miss

Touch and heal the few that are sick
The ones who can’t be here today
The Uncle’s bad back and the Sister’s flu
Heal and bless them, Dear Lord, we all pray

Bless this food upon our plates
We’re so thankful for this feast
And bless the ones who fixed our food
Oh, and Lord, Please bless our drink!”

Laughter erupts, then a loud “Amen”
A reunion filled with joy and fun
They begin to eat and fellowship
Making memories of warmth and love
~
~© Bobbie Sandlin~

I forgot all about this one lol. This was on my disk of old poems, the disk is corrupted, but somehow this one survived. I had to tweak it a bit, some of it was unfinished. I hope you enjoy :)

~ Sugar Baby ~

Twinkling eyes, wrinkled hands

Reach for her precious gift
To touch a newborn sleeping babe
Gives her old heart such a lift

Marvel at the decades between them
To witness it, leaves you in awe
A woman living the night of her years
A babe just a week into dawn

Her trembling hand caresses the feet
Of the babe all but dead to the world
And now on her lap, the baby is placed
Her tender heart beams and unfurls

A tiny thing, and look at her skin
Eyes closed, the babe stretches and squeaks
A chuckle erupts and the woman smiles
She could hold this sweet baby for weeks

The woman then asks, “How much does she weigh?”
Her face just crinkles in laughter
A mere 5 pounds and 1 ounce, so tiny like a mouse
“Why she’s nothing but a bag of sugar!”

~© Bobbie Sandlin~



Another oldie but goodie lol. Sugar Baby is about my oldest daughter. She was SO tiny when she was born. My Grandmother, who was officially a Great-Grandmother with my daughter being born, was working at the nursing home and wanted me to bring the baby by. So I did, and I smile at remembering chasing her around as she took my daughter to various wings and departments, showing her off to the nurses and co-workers, and to the patients. There was one elderly woman who I still remember plain as day. It was such a surreal moment. She wanted to hold the baby, and my Granny carefully placed her on this woman's lap. I can remember how hard I had to work, not to cry. The generations that spanned between them, and this woman marveling at my daughter nearly brought me to tears. But we always joke with my daughter. She's so tall now, and to think she was a bag of sugar lol.

~ The Porch Swing ~

Sitting on the porch swing

Swinging the day away
Enjoying all the view and noise
No way I’d rather play

My Granny right beside me
It’s such a noble treat
I mimic all her motions
Even placement of her feet

My itty bitty child self
Just beams and feels so big
We talk of things, 'bout life and such
And lift our drinks and swig

Taking in the summer scene
Swatting at the flies
Enjoy each others company
Watch the cars go by

Smelling all the summer scents
Drifting in the air
Bar B Q’s and fresh cut grass
The hairspray in her hair

And sometimes a mosquito
Would get the best of us
We held our ground, but scratch like mad
Occasionally she’d cuss

My favorite time upon the swing
Was after rain that poured
Would fill the air with rain kissed scent
A moment I adored

But wait, Oh no, It’s time to go
I’ll make my running start
Hop off the swing, run through the house
To Granny’s candy jar

~© Bobbie Sandlin~



I wrote this one several years ago. It was a fun one, reflecting one of my favorite memories of childhood. Visiting my Granny, and I loved her swing. When I was a little kid, it was always such a thrill at feeling "big" when I got to swing with her. The candy jar reference - every time it was time to go, that was my treat. I didn't get a lot of candy at home, and Granny kept her candy jar full of a variety of hard candies. My favorite was the Brock's Peppermint. I'd grab hand fulls and shove them in my pockets lol.