Laughter and Lemonade

Recalling my first taste of lemonade

from tall, cold glasses served from patio

to me in hammock deep in leafy shade

of tree that held Mom’s swing long years ago,

I grinned and thanked her for such gentle care.

The years were rolling silver dollars spent.

My mom and I lived our lives unaware–

it seemed–that change could come without a hint –

one day it happened instantly in time.

How strange! I did not notice right at first –

when hands of kindness ceased their pantomime,

and shook until my world collapsed, then burst.

When bands of angels flew from Heaven’s shade

they took the one who poured sweet lemonade.

© 2014 Freeda Baker Nichols

Mother's Day Card from Tammy

Daddy’s Felt Hat

Walter Baker

Walter Baker

The hat of felt my daddy wore was bent
around the edges of its sweat-soaked brim;
my daddy wore it everywhere he went.
I keep it now in memory of him.
Inside a box it sits on closet shelf.
I often think I should discard it now,
and yet I simply cannot bring myself
to throw away the hat he wore to plow.
My daddy’s strength, his heart, his steel-blue eyes
made straight my path and edged my walk with pride
and gave me hope beneath bright sun-filled skies,
gray-dimmed and damp the day my daddy died.
The hat of rich worn felt looks out-of-place
away from daddy’s deep-lined, humble face.

Copyright 2012, Freeda Baker Nichols