Thanksgiving, 2020

This year’s Thanksgiving
is like a tweaked simile:
two peas in a pot.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
This year’s Thanksgiving
is like a tweaked simile:
two peas in a pot.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
I should first explain that I went 30-plus years with a severe reaction to butter and chocolate. ONLY butter and chocolate. I know, I know … it makes no sense. For 30-plus years, I have had to be ridiculously careful, because even minute amounts wreaked havoc. When my thyroid was fixed, this went away.
THANKSGIVING, 2020
Buttered potatoes,
and stuffing with butter.
Slather that nut bread
(my heart is aflutter!).
No need to ask
“is there butter in this?”
Now I can happily
fill up my dish.
But now that selecting
what goes on my plate
no longer concerns me,
we can’t congregate.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
The Maumee Indoor
“Closed until further notice.”
A sign of the times.
(c) Marie Elena Good, 2020
#seventeenintwenty
I did not take this photo, and do not know who did. I had to run to the post office today, and saw the sign on our beloved “Maumee Indoor,” on my way. Truly a sign of the times.
Imprint in Concrete photo by Keith R. Good
We’re navigating
necessary conversions
to our way of life.
Maybe we’ve traded
trite for substance. And maybe
we can keep the change.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
Image from demilked.com
Can we see from space
that a slower, simpler pace
is earth’s saving grace?
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
Photo courtesy of Pixabay
I’m all for the masks and hand-washing,
Keeping 6 feet away and not touching,
But for cryin’ out loud
I just gasped at the crowd
On the old T.V. show that I’m watching!
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
True story, y’all! LOL!
Photo courtesy of Pixabay’s Pasja1000
Mask Maker, Mask Maker,
Make me a mask.
Ward off my cough.
That’s all I ask.
Mask Maker, Mask Maker,
Nothing too posh.
Just make me a modest mask.
Mask Maker, Mask Maker,
Put folks at ease
as they pass by,
and I must sneeze.
Your mission, see,
is to render for me
a smidgeon of PPE.
Then drop it
off over yonder.
Leave quickly,
and leave nothing else, please,
for me. Well, I wouldn’t holler
if TP’s included (I’m ill at ease).
Mask Maker, Mask Maker,
Thanks for the mask!
My husband’s at peace,
no longer repeats
day after day, “Sharing isn’t condoned,”
now that I have one
of my own.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
Photo by Anemone 123 at Pixabay
She’s become a permanent fixture
in her own home. Comfortable and cozy.
Not lonely, and
determined that nobody else will be either.
But there is a bump in her road, and
a chink in her resolve.
A chasm, built of laziness
she has come to embrace.
Isn’t idleness inherent
in permanent fixtures?
Deep inside her is a plea she turns a deaf ear to:
the low howl of the lonely.
And she wonders why she writes her poem
in third person.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
On the occasion of Izzy’s 6th birthday, I just wanted to again share the poem I wrote when she was born. Happy Birthday, Izzy! As soon as this Covid-19 stay-at-home is safely lifted, Poppa and I will have you for a sleepover and proper hugs. In the meantime, enjoy your birthday, pretty little sweetie! ❤
REQUESTED (Izzy’s Sonnet)
God graciously gives gifts that prove His love,
And this time used a cherished little one
Whose precious face is reminiscent of
The one who caused my heart to come undone.
Another set of prints upon my soul
Has made her presence known, and it’s sublime –
Just like a piece that makes a puzzle whole,
Or syllable that finishes a rhyme.
Upon three years of practice on my part,
You’d think by now it might have gotten old.
But every day brings wonder to my heart,
And now my joy has multiplied twofold.
Delivered straight to us through Heaven’s door –
The one her sister earnestly asked for.
© Marie Elena Good, 2014
“If I ever go looking for my heart’s desire again, I won’t look any further than my own back yard. Because if it isn’t there, I never really lost it to begin with.” ~ Dorothy Gal
The tempest we face today blows me away. It has twisted our world and what we chase.
As we shelter in place, the view from space shows a cleansing of the air we share. Sweet messages and charming drawings in chalk fill each walk, drive, and trail. Mailed letters are back “in” as they’ve not been in decades. Roller blades, bikes, and hikes, and sharing while distancing …
We are witnessing a change, as we rearrange the life we’d learned to expect. Soon we’ll reflect on the effect staying at home had on us. On our planet. And just as we began it, we’ll be back to activities with the liberties that define us.
I pray when we are no longer confined, we’ll continue to align with the gentler pace the shelter-in-place afforded. For we’ve been rewarded with renewed love of home and neighbor, and the favor of unexpected gifts in the midst of forced simplicity.
With misty eyes, I reflect on these affecting words from Oz. Let’s never return from what was.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
The above quote that comes near the end of the Wizard of Oz, when Dorothy has returned home, has been a favorite of mine since I was a child. I cannot voice it without choking up; cannot think of it without misty eyes. The sentiment is heartwarming wisdom, and the wording is exceptional. I wish I had written it.