Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Fireflies and Stars

I couldn't resist putting up one more poem about fireflies. Though, perhaps, the poem is more about the wonders of the Creator.

When I look at the fireflies,
Those reflections of heaven’s stars,
I am amazed at God’s delight as Creator,
His joy at making something so big,
And, with equal attention to detail,
Something so small.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010


Playing a game of let’s pretend we’re stars,
Fireflies spark in June’s night-time grass, becoming
Imitations and reflections of heaven’s fire balls.
With rhythmic signals, like Morse code,
They talk to one another, recognize their own kind,
And sport and frolic and create more fireflies.

Here, where all seems innocent, a female trickster
Lies in wait. Using imitation and reflection
Of another’s secret code, she lures an unsuspecting
Male to his death—and her supper.
Ah! Dastardly deed! Yet this too is nature
And must have meaning in the scheme of things.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Recipe for Welsh Cakes

Now that I've finished taking you through my Book of Short Stories I will be writing different things each week. Today, I thought I would give you the recipe for this sweet treat--Welsh Cakes. They are a delightful afternoon snack and, if you're not eating them right off the griddle, just wrap a couple in a paper towel and warm them in the microwave for about 15 seconds. They are delicious!

I hope you like my new background on this blog. I thought a new stage in its writing called for a new design.

3 cups all-purpose flour
1 ½ tsp. baking powder
½ tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. salt
¾ cup sugar
1 tsp. nutmeg
1 cup shortening
1 cup currants
2 eggs
6 tbsp. milk
Sift dry ingredients in bowl. Cut in shortening. Add currants. Beat eggs and milk. Add to fruit and flour. Mix well. Divide dough into 4 parts. Roll out to ¼ inch thick. Cut with cookie cutter. Bake on ungreased skillet (350 degrees F.) for 5 – 10 minutes on each side.
Yield: 3 dozen.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Sun Dance

This is the last entry in Welsh Cakes: Book of Short Stories. It is more of a descriptive passage than a story. It is very short so I have included the whole piece. Now that the stories in the book are finished, nest week I will start something new.

Winter and summer, I sit in my morning space and write. I watch the sun come up—later in winter than summer—but every day it comes and begins its morning dance.
In summer I see the light shine over the leaves dappling them in green and yellow shades, their breeze-rippled surface dancing green to yellow to green. The sun jumps through the windowpane and lands on the carpet in front of me. Picking up its dance on my own private stage, it moves in seductive steps of muted light and shadow from yellow to grey to yellow.
In winter the sun lands its cool light through prisms. Touching down on snow crystals it sparks ice diamonds of red and blue, green and gold. The sun’s winter light awakens the colors into dance and frost reflects in rainbow hues then rests back into white, as the sun arcs low in the sky and passes across the snow-covered earth.
I sit in my morning writing space and like an artist with her brush and paint; I try to capture the dance in pen and ink.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

The Boot Boy and the Duke

This short-short story from my book of short fiction, Welsh Cakes: Book of Short Stories, was written when I was involved in Literacy work with adults. I was a tutor with the Literacy Society of South Muskoka.

The story begins:
"Once upon a time there were two babies born on the same day, on the same estate. One was born to the Duke and Duchess amidst great celebration, while the other was born to a lowly servant and his wife in a hut at the edge of the property. This was the poor couple’s thirteenth child and though they were happy at his birth, it meant another mouth to feed with the same amount of money.

"The Duke’s son was given the best of education and learnt many things out of books. As he grew up, he traveled far and wide and saw much that interested him. He met many kings and queens in many lands and, after some time, chose the most beautiful of all the princesses and married her.

"The servant’s son became the boot boy at the age of six. He had to be up early every morning, cleaning and polishing the many boots and shoes in the manor house. He had no time for learning and even if he had, there was no one who would teach him. He never traveled from the estate and knew nothing of other lands and their people.

"But the resident doctor took a liking to the boy and taught him the alphabet and showed him how to use herbs to help people who were sick."

The story goes on through the lives of these two people until the day of their deaths. St Peter asked the same question to each of them. “Have you read the words of my letter? The ones that say, ‘Whatever gift each of you may have received, use it in service to one another, like good stewards dispensing the grace of God in its varied forms.’”

Though the Duke's answer was in the affirmative St. Peter was not impressed. Yes, he had read the words but he had not acted on them. Peter tells him that he must go to the bottom level of heaven where he must stay until he learned to share his gifts with others.

The boot boy's answer to St. Peter was in the negative “ 'Even though you did not know these words nor could you read them,' said St. Peter, 'yet you have acted upon their spirit. You have shared with others the gifts God gave to you. So you will come to the uppermost level of heaven and join with the saints and angels around God’s throne.'

"Peter opened the gate and the boot boy entered the kingdom of God while the Duke was escorted to the lowest level to learn how to use and share God’s gifts with others."

This story is like a little parable or fable which tells us that if we have reading and writing skills it is important that we use them for the good of others.