Quilted Souls

Our quilting party
Patchwork of mixed memories
Enjoyed together

Loves tattered bits of fabric
Zigzag schemes of mingled souls

                                    -Clarence Holm

 

Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge 160 Party/Enjoy

RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #160 Party&Enjoy

Dad

Dusty gravel roads
Near swaths of ripening wheat
-Father’s furrowed brow

                              -Clarence Holm

I think of my father, especially when I am trying to solve a problem that requires some patience. When all seems lost, I think back to my days on the farm, remembering the endless chores and the way my father attacked them day after day after day. Dad’s stoic acceptance of running a small farm with old equipment held together with bailing wire and cardboard gaskets, in a weather cycle that didn’t produce enough rain to parch the sandy soil, taught me that even in a losing effort there are battles to be won.

Though our family gardens were doomed to be raided by the neighbor’s pigs and the Massey Harris combine and the old John Deere tractor were unwilling farm servants, dad always found ways to persevere. Even when most sane men would throw in the towel, his stubborn Midwestern will would drive him through the crisis.

I remember lots of happy times too. Noon-time meals with the entire family sitting down to meat and potatoes, covered in gravy served with Mom’s fresh white bread on a plate in the middle of the table. I loved hearing his lunch time dreams of tomorrow, when the next harvest would run over our bins.

I remember him during those times of joy and sadness and wish I could stand near him again to walk in those fields of Dakota. Even though Dad rests in peace, I just wanted to say just one more time, Happy Fathers’ Day dad; I love you this much.

Home For The Memories

nightime

Weary night-time travelers,
Headlights on snow packed roads.
Drive past cold farmer’s fields,
Faintly lit by northern sky.
Called home by bits of memories,
Warm feelings held deep inside.
Hoping to recapture.
Scenes of what used to be.
Patchworks of old memories
Stitched together in dreams

Candles placed by windows,
Visible from so far away.
Beacons of wishes,
Cast on starry nights.
Crying out to loved ones,
-Come home for the night.
If only it were yesteryear,
I’m sure we’d all be there.
But time has come between us
And some are no longer here.

We hold to dreams that bring us cheer,
And drive away those past-midnight fears
Recollections of special holidays,
That stretch across the years.

                                                 -Clarence Holm

“Ormsby – Little town with big streets!”

Golden Memories

Ronovan’s Haiku Challenge 125– Gold/Sing

The Town of Ormsby has put up its’ Holiday Lights—

ormsby-snowmana

Image & Words ©2016 – Clarence Holm

Golden memories
Of refrains we use to sing
So long, long, ago

              -Clarence Holm

https://ronovanwrites.wordpress.com/2016/11/28/ronovanwrites-weekly-haiku-poetry-prompt-challenge-125-goldsing/

“Ormsby – Packed with Holiday Cheer!”

Honeysuckle Pleasure

I walked alone on prairie trail
Through knee high grass in summer.
Feel August sunlight on my neck
And watch the wandering wind.

The shimmering vista stretches for tomorrow
As I dreamed of times before
Conjure sights of ancient herds
Hearing echoes of thunderous hooves

I think of the mighty Tonka
That provided a way of life
Meat and hide, sinew strong
Weaving memories in drummer’s song

The killdeer’s cries a sharp alarm
Turns my attention home
To evening honeysuckle pleasure
That I’ll share with you alone.

-Clarence Holm

Thought Again Of Prairie Fields

I thought again of prairie fields
And remembered warm summer suns.
I felt the wind that blew back then
And played with my family again.

The big front yard, the pasture gate
Sweet memories swirl around me.
I hold the thoughts tighter now
I’m scared that I won’t remember.

Baseball games at reunion parks
Our families played there together.
The children ran, while old folks looked
And the winners called for their treasures.

We grew older then and some moved on
Black and white pictures replaced the elders.
The family picnics are much smaller now,
I’m missing so many aunts and uncles.

To return once more to yesteryear
Will have to wait for awhile.
I have dreams to share and kids to hug
Before I lose another smile.

-Clarence Holm