Grandma’s Gift

Baby snuggles beneath the warmth
of a quilt that Grandma made
with pattern from a color book–
animals in a  parade.

Some of them bark, some bite, some dance–
their colors are very bright
and baby loves to sing to them
when he goes to bed at night.

© Freeda Baker Nichols

Joseph Comes Home

The news spread like discovering diamonds–
Tab and Sue’s boy was coming home!
He stayed in the South Pacific when the war
ended — that great war — the war that took the
Ellington’s other sons before the bomb dropped.
Their boys grew up on the farm, all five of them,
and they were tough as timber rattlers.  Uncle Sam
was proud to get them when all but the youngest
joined up.  Not quite eighteen, Joseph worked
on the farm. Ed, the oldest, died saving his squad
leader. James died at Normandy. Later, the
black-edged letters told the fate of Al and Silas.
Joe joined the Navy. His folks gave up the farm and
moved into town. When the war ended, they longed
to see their one remaining son. He didn’t return.

The gray in Sue’s hair made her old. Yes, it was
the gray that made her old — it was not her grieving
for her sons because . . . they still played at her feet.  Tab
spent most of his time outside, feeding the birds.  His
shoulders stooped. He heard the good news. His son
was coming home. Why should that matter now?  Then
Tab saw him on the walk, a woman with slanted eyes
beside him, a baby in her arms. Four small boys behind
them. Joseph bear-hugged his father and asked, “Where’s
Mom?” Sue came running, and Joseph took her hand,
“Mom, meet my wife and your grandsons. This one’s Ed
and here’s James, Al and Silas. That’s Joseph.” Sue’s eyes
shone. She touched the hands that held the baby, and
smiling, said, “Welcome home.”

Copyright 2013, Freeda Baker Nichols

I Remember Mama

My mother wore her hair in braids
and dressed in velvets and brocades;
her sparkling eyes,
an apt disguise–
above her iridescent dress;
her hands contained a warm caress.

As strange as it may seem to you,
it is not gowns of velvet blue
that I recall;
it is her shawl,
in tatters, placed across her lap
when she would rock-a-bye my nap.

c Copyright, 2013 Freeda Baker Nichols

(A Butterfly Sequence)

All the Elephants

Elephant Mama and Baby

Elephant Mama and Baby









All the elephants are not in the zoo.
This Mama elephant and Baby, too,
have come to live here on a farm
where they know they are safe from harm.
This farm has a gaggle of geese
that roam about just as they please.
They hold their heads way up high
and honk and honk as they go by.
The geese pay the elephants no mind–
a happier place they never could find.
This little story is really true–
all the elephants are not in the zoo.

c Copyright, 2013, Freeda Baker Nichols

A Gaggle of Geese

A Gaggle of Geese

Death of a Newborn

The shining light
flicks its radiance faintly
to pain-filled, anguished eyes
and goes out
before the voice can laugh,
or the feet can run,
or the heart can pound
with eagerness to embrace
a loving world that reaches strongly,
then turns broken-hearted
to the still and empty coldness.

c Copyright 2012,  Freeda Baker Nichols