May Activity Feature--Reflections of Home--Hosted By--Jack Horne--Whispers’ Activity Feature Editor

We could hardly wait to find out what you call home, and we were delighted with these wonderful poems.  Thanks so much to everyone who took part in this month’s activity.

                                                            Jack Horne—Whispers’ Activity Editor

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Pine Needle Path

Beneath the towering red pines, deep

in Superior National Forest, Dad took

me on a trail of discovery. He showed

me how we fit in among majesty. Filling

our lungs with pine scent, we set out,

sharpened blades on our hip. Dad was

relaxed, told me to take it all in, forest

creatures, wildflowers underfoot, this

was real, where all life was equal. "Keep

this feeling in your heart son" he said.

James Marshall Goff, United States

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Home

early morning...

Thanksgiving thanks
for biscuits with gratitude

sweet fragrance
of pumpkin spice
waffles through our home

Pat Geyer, United States

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Threshold

There is love, care,

Belonging and security

Within the four walls

Of our family home

And, there’s freedom

Riddled with insecurity

And unknown consequences

In the mean world outside

The mind is often perched

On a dilemma that haunts the threshold

Vincent Van Ross, India

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Home-and-away Games People Play 

Overseas they work for their families

Egos and luggage they carry home

Who wants to go home empty-handed?

They feign happiness and brightness

They can’t afford to be mocked back home

This is a game of putting up good appearances

Ndaba Sibanda, Zimbabwe

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Grey Place

This is a grey place, there's no denying.

Grey slate, grey granite.

And it rains a lot, there's no denying.

But when caught by a sunbeam

it makes glistening slides shimmering across the slate 

and falls in bright white tails or snakes like silver

spilling heavily over rocks,

it’s cascades catching rainbows as they crash

then spitting them back out in a fine spray of colours.

No grey at all in this place now, there's no denying.

Lynn White, Wales

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My Home's

an active listener. When I tell a tale

It gives verbal nods. Floorboards

reply with I see…

radiators with I understand…

Armchairs creak  I’m with you…

and kitchen sink squeaks  Okay.

Bright cutlery mirrors my words.

Lit bulbs flicker acknowledgement.

At least she isn't here to confuse them.

Paul Brookes, England

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A Home for Spartacus

His name is Spartacus, he was a stray;

He was eight when he came to Gables Farm,

Where a routine blood test showed he was FIV positive,

Bad luck and rough living or a fight with another cat

Means he needs an indoor home with no other cats.

With these needs met and a loving home

He has a normal life expectancy.

He’s a handsome lad, talkative and friendly,

And a real lover of cat treats.

His name is Spartacus and he needs a home.

Nick Spargo, United Kingdom

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An Eternal Home

Sharing with other bums,

Living off the crumbs,

In the neighborhood slums,

These are my chums,

My buddies, my pals.

We share community towels.

Knowing God shares our pain,

We have eternal gain.

Many miles we’ve trod,

We’re just thankful-we know God.

Mary Bone, United States

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Rambling Man, Where is your Home?

Where is my home? Where do I belong?

I really don’t know, always moving on to another place

Moved every other year it seems the last 45 years

Traveled to 49 states, 45 countries, drove across the U.S. six times

Lived in Berkeley, Yakima, Stockton, Seattle, Alexandria, DC, Oregon, Korea, Thailand, India, The Eastern Caribbean, and Spain

Where do I belong?  Where is my home?

Neither here nor there, nowhere and everywhere

And so is that my rambling man’s fate

Never to really belong anywhere at all

Jake Aller, An American in South Korea

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34

back at his childhood home

with two children of his own

mommy's baby boy returns

served all his favorite dishes 

given constant hugs and kisses

hearing “I remember whens”

as his sons learn of times

Daddy did those same crimes

they get “time outs” for today

Carl "Papa" Palmer, United States

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Home

A place of peace and true love,

A place of unity and warmness,

Home, the abode of angels.

Trespassers and intruders, resisted

Scavengers and enemies, subdued

Home, the dwelling place of God.

East, west, north or south

Far, near, up or down

Low, high, rich, or poor

Home, the best: a God.

Ngozi Osuoha, Nigeria

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Happy childhood memories

At home and school...

Of course, I grew up

David Fox, United States

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The world is my home

being never alone

with memories and dreams

and with always good spirit it seems.

Feeling always at home

where friendly people live,

as to love and be loved

is the most precious gift

Gert Knop, Germany

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Graveyard

I am in the womb
Of my mother, Earth.
Sweet home of mine.
I stoop to drowsiness
hearing the rhythm of flowing
blood into her vein. No scissors can
cut the umbilical cord now and separate
me from her.

Partha Chatterjee, India

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Room Walls

Room walls –

Childhood canvas

I colored with crayons…

My masterpieces make me feel

At home.

Jagari Mukherjee, India

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A Visit

I know every cobblestone in the small village

The ancient oak trees on Mill Street and the peaceful

park where you can sit and muse while watching

the gaggling ducks in the pond

Rosewood Hotel still breathes hospitality,

a warm haven for visitors

My roots lay here, made me the person I am today

I followed my heart, settled down with you abroad

The friendly receptionist greets me at Rosewood's

'Welcome, I hope you will enjoy your stay with us'

Inge Wesdijk, The Netherlands

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Moving away soon—

shall I still plant flowers

in the window boxes?

Kelley White, United States

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A Good Day

(witnessed from my front porch)

silent breeze flowing through

a screened window; robust

orange flavor infuses the sun

as it begins to set; chirping

crickets draw a close to the

evening; reflection tied into

emotion; a good day at home,

Maurice Reynolds, United States

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A Sweet Home

A home filled with warmth and kindness

Surreal the scene that flashes to mind

Within this dream there is love divine

Ethereal glow radiates fineness

Eternal home not made by human hands

Territory beyond, all God's design

Heavenly home, oh! so fine

Overjoyed at my arrival 

My loved ones will want life's recital

Every detail of family, since upon earth's sands

Sara Kendrick, United States

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Grandma & Grandpa

You were "Home" to me

Going hunting and fishing

Riding horses

And reading stories

New to me

Day after day

Protected and loved, you're

Always in my heart.

          "Home"--I had one once.

Barbara Tate, United States

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A Home Sweet Home

At long day’s end, our thoughts may stray

 to where we long to wend our way

- a peaceful place where we dismiss

all things in life that are amiss,

and none are wont to cause dismay.

Our footsteps hasten us to this:

the warmth of hearth, the welcome kiss.

For those less fortunate I pray

a home sweet home they'll find one day.

Andrea Dietrich, United States

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birthday stars
the bread crumbs
on the way home

Eren & Ece Cehreli, Ankara, Turkey

Eren is a 6-year-old and Ece is an 11-year-old.

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HOME

Heart
Of
Memories
Everlasting

Mary A. Couch, United States

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Home is where the heart is...

Or so I’ve been told

Though, I’ve often wondered

Is the heart...

at home?

For once the heart has broken,

can it truly still reside,

with the memory

of love's token,

living deep inside?

Lynn Long, United States

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Hate Has No Home Here 

My welcome mat’s worn with decades of dirt,

baby shoes, oxfords, high heels and sneakers.

Laughter and joy have passed through our door,

hate, locked out. But hate slithers like a cobra

in the grass, spitting venom at everyone it fears.

I am unafraid of fangs of rancor. A sign rises tall

among mums by my door to make my feelings

clear ... HATE HAS NO HOME HERE.

Shelly Blankman, United States

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The House He Built

I sit by broad windows watching birds 

flock to feeders, squirrels and chipmunks 

scurry about, dogwoods abloom at forest 

edge.  For years, my husband planned 

this house.   After he retired, he built it, 

doing most of the work himself. Now years 

later, as night falls, I watch cardinals enjoy 

their bedtime snack and rabbits sashay 

out of the woods to dance on the dewy grass.  

Elizabeth Howard, United States

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The New House

Suitcases packed, boxes in the van,

we backed down Stipp Street’s driveway

one last time—leaving friends, leaving home.

Eight hours later we pulled small items

from the car, to fill the empty rooms.

Four white walls, no furniture—

a new house—I put a pot of tomato sauce

on that new stove’s front burner.

Soon that familiar aroma filled the house,

making it a home.

Joan Leotta, United States

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Last Leaves of Home

burying parents

in pouring October rain--

her final tears fall

By Karen O'Leary, United States

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My Roots

Home, root of my foundation

Begun on cattle ranch station

Riding range, punching cows

Brand calves under tree boughs

Work was hard, days were long

Responsibility made me strong

Thinking of my younger days

I enjoyed growing up these ways

Yancy Lee Dalton, United States 

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Home

for me

was a small farm

with animals and fowl,

on the shores of Lough Erne - scenic,

near gran's

eldest

of two children –  

"a lovely quiet child",

i'm told the dog sat by my pram.

Big sis...

Mary Gunn, Ireland

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No Place is Home

Friends talk of home

Something existent

Each house lived in is my home

But only for a little time

Mind wearies of the sameness

There is no comfort one can find

In a place that has no bind

but

The next place will be home

This I always know!

Isha Wagner, New Zealand

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Sweet Home

In Paris was her home as her birthright

She then lived in many a home in many a country

But meeting Sri Aurobindo once she realized

That her Real Home would be in Pondicherry.

After a tedious journey’s end as she disembarked there

After five more years, an air of joy and success greeted her.

Gradually establishing her Divine reign

She expanded her home to earth’s far end

Embracing all sentient beings in her Sweet Home

with love and spiritual centrifugal wisdom.

Aju Mukhopadhyay, India

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Dear Activity Contributors,

What a wonderful outpouring of words and different visions of home! Home has been a happy place for me but burying my in-laws was sad time in our lives—my parents are alive and my husband is a son to them. I expect all of us have happy and sad times related to home but for most of us the ties remain strong.  It is something about home that seems to draw the human spirit even when things aren’t perfect our families, they are a part of who we are.

I hope those of you that have not submitted individual poems to our Poem Editor, Inge Wesdijk, there is still room in the May issue and since this is a rolling opportunity those that we cannot accommodate in May will be considered for June.  Her email address is daginne@gmail.com  If you have collaborative poems, or other ideas for special features please send them to Karen O’Leary at karenoleary@gmail.com  The guidelines for all our opportunities are at the top right of Whispers’ main page. We are looking for ways to give our contributors increased visibility and are open to writers of all levels.  Best wishes with all your writing endeavors. Thank you for participating in Jack Horne’s Activity.  Stay tuned for June’s activity due out on June 1.

Blessings,

Karen O’Leary

Whispers’ Editor