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(Please scroll to the bottom for my selection of good books to read)

to my poetry corner

Here I will share with you some of my original poems and some of my all time favorites. Sit back and enjoy a good read!

Solitude (in my grandmother's backyard)

For Helen

All the beauty in the world that exists in every part
compounded thrice cannot compare
to all the joy within my heart,
as I sit in your backyard drinking fragrance on the breeze,
giving in to quiet stillness,
watching moonlight thru the trees.
The air so cool, the sky so bright, the moon so full on this one night;
this simple place so small, serene,
dispels the sorrow of man's plight.
It isn't right, I only know, that I alone should watch the show,
while man out there so troubled be!
They cannot share this joy with me.
Yet spoiled and gone the peace I feel, should I invite an audience here
For peace and solitude are
only found in places one can't share.
Now pulled and torn, my heart feels drawn...
To share the joy?
Or steal the dawn!

Jennifer Lynn Nelson

"The Perfect Day"

"Mama's Mama, on a winter's day, milked the cows
and fed them hay; slopped the hogs, saddled
the mule and got the children off to school.
Did a washing, mopped the floors,
washed some windows and did some chores
Cooked a dish of home dried fruit,
pressed her husband's Sunday suit.
Swept the parlor, made the bed,
baked a dozen loaves of bread.
Split some firewood and lugged it in,
enough to fill the kitchen bin.
Cleaned the lamps and put oil in, stewed some apples
she thought might spoil. Churned the butter, baked
a cake, then exclaimed,
"For mercy's sake, the calves have got out of the pen."
Went out and chased them in again.
Gathered the eggs and locked the stable,
returned to the house and set the table,
cooked a supper that was delicious
and afterward washed all the dishes.
Fed the cat, sprinkled the clothes,
mended a basket full of hose.
Then she opened the organ and began to play -
"When you come to the end of a perfect day.!"

Those drugs are still in my veins; and they affect my behavior in everything I do, say, and think.

They are stronger than cocaine, crack, or heroine, and if today's children had this kind of drug problem,

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Just click on the picture to order from Harper Collins (cheaper than Amazon, and better to work with)

Rebel against the "Desperate Housewives" syndrom that seems to be "sweeping" the nation

Take some time to read this sweet book for ideas on starting simple family traditions

I LOVE Betty Smith's novels. "Joy" is really lovely, but "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn" is my favorite!

Okay, this is my favorite book of all time. It's so beautiful. If you've seen the TV series with Kellie Martin but haven't read the book, then it's time for you to read it. You'll read it over and over again and never grow tired. Trust me on this one! Catherine Marshall wrote a lot of wonderful books besides this one: A Man Called Peter; Beyond Ourselves; Julie etc.

I read "An April Love Story" when I was about sixteen, and I loved it. It is a teenage romance novel, but it's clean and a sweet story. Marine is a high school girl who lives with her parents in (if I remember correctly) New York City. She loves her life and her friends. Her parents' best friends have a son, Lucas, who goes to school with Marine, but she keeps her distance. He's kind of quiet and serious and pimply. Anyway, one day she comes home to discover that her parents and her parents' friends (Lucas's parents) have decided that all of them are going to move to a farm in North Carolina and "live off the land". They use no electricity, no indoor plumbing, no store bought convenience foods. They wear no make-up and sew all their own clothes. The parents love their new life while the two kids hate it, until Marine starts to see Lucas through different eyes. He is tan and has clear skin now and a new girl-friend of Marine's thinks he's good-looking. Anyway, if you can't find this book in a used bookstore, click on the picture to purchase. It's a wholesome, sweet story clean enough for your teenage daughter to read.