People Sketching Practice

Sunday morning at Panera

Panera Bread on a Sunday morning is a great place to get some practice sketching random people. I am going to go to various public places and capture a collection people. The object is to not only to get better at portraying their gestures or moods, but to tell a story. The above sketch is only one paragraph of the story I aim to tell. A collection of paragraphic sketches will hopefully start to form a story.

Poem: Good Daughter

Good Daughter

by June Nash

 .

Raised my children, now they’re grown

Husband’s passed, now on my own

Nights are quiet, days are too

Nothing left, of use, to do

 .

Mama, she is slowing down

How long will she be aroun’?

Afraid she’ll die, all alone

She’s a bit accident prone

.

Daughter says come live with her

Didn’t want to, now not sure

I’d like to watch grandkids grow

Hate to be a burden though

 .

Mom nursed me when I was young

Twisted life, look how it swung

She can rest under my arm

I’ll persuade her with my charm

 .

As time passed, decisions made

With good daughter mama stayed

Times, they were not always good

None knew why, nor understood

 .

My daughter’s sweet and caring

Won’t burden her by airing

Petty gripes about my state

Should not have come, now too late

 .

Gave mom our room on first floor

Husband liked things as before

Children gripe, ‘cause can’t make noise

To appease, buy both more toys

 .

Sweet dear, spoils the kids

Catering to husbands bids

I can help, perhaps I should

By dropping hints. That’d be good!

 .

Mother dear, tries to be nice

Interferes, but should think thrice

It’s my home, but whose in charge

Those little hints, getting large

 .

As time passed, a peace was made

With good daughter mama stayed

Times, they were often quite good

None knew why, nor understood

 .

Talked to daughter, heart to heart

Began with a bumpy start

Talked about my feelings true

Asked her advice, what to do

 .

Mama and me now are friends

For way we acted, made amends

When Mom watches kids it’s great

Let’s spouse and me have a date

 .

Safe and secure on my own

In daughters house, now my home

Never thought I’d come to stay

But glad my kids led the way

 .

Times were often bittersweet

When mom’s will and mine did meet

I gained a lot ‘cause she came

Though helping her was my aim

 .

As time passes, life must fade

With good daughter mama stayed

Times, they were often quite good

None knew why, nor understood

Poem: My 2013 Resolution

2013 Resolution

House is full,

just collecting dust.

On things there

that are not a must.

Ten knick knacks

lined along the shelf

“Where’re they from?”

I ask of myself.

Shoes, soles worn,

twenty five years old.

Lots of things

on to which I hold.

I resolve

that this year will be

When I get

less cluttered.  Junk free.

June Nash

Poem about The Lack of Ambition To Get A Job

NOT THE JOB FOR ME

It’s not that I don’t want to work,

But don’t like to slave for a jerk.

The tasks are dreary

And make me weary.

So from all things not fun I’ll shirk.

 –

Mental work is the chore I choose.

At a desk, scratch my head and muse.

Never broke a sweat

At exertion yet.

Exceptions to this won’t peruse.

 –

Dirty jobs are not tasks for me.

Must be something better you see.

As long as can live

Off what other’s give,

I’ll sit back, relax, watch TV.

June Nash

I don’t know what prompted me to write this poem.  Maybe it is because I occasionally run across people who seem to have this attitude.

Is this a commonplace attitude in our society?

Poem: Too Late, Mommy’s Gone

This photo is from the Weekly Writing Challenge. What does this photo say to you?

Too Late, Mommy’s Gone

Mommy’s gone, not coming home.

Off to church, us three alone.

Mommy said, need to be brave.

Care for papa, and behave.

Mommy’s in a better place.

Angels will, her pain, erase.

Daddy says at church must pray.

Too late now, she’s gone away.

June Nash

I subscribe to the Weekly Writing Challenge.  I don’t always participate. Today, the challenge was quite easy.  I just let my imagination flow.  The challenge was to write a story about the picture that they showed you.  

Weekly Writing Challenge: A Picture Is Worth 1,000 Word