Why draw me Mistress to despair

To melancholy madness

Why pierce my heart to live again

The pains of buried sadness

Your visions from those days long gone

(Beguiling days of youth)

They do not draw me nearer

But help me to uproot.


This came to me as I crossed the squinty bridge over the river Clyde to the Mitchell library.



Gone Fishing!

Well not exactly fishing, but I will be gone for a while. I am going over to care for my mother in Scotland. She has wi-fi now so hopefully I will be able to post a little more than I usually do while there. I would appreciate any prayers and good wishes for my travels and my time with my mother.

My first flight was cancelled this morning Grrrr! Which means I’m going to be cutting it real close to catch my next flights. Can’t afford any further delays.

Take care of yourselves, love and hugs, Elizabeth. :-)

Don’t Stress The Delays


I saw a news story this morning that made me smile and I thought I’d share it. A little boy, maybe two years old climbed out of his 3rd floor apartment window and got caught among flimsy wiring outside of the building. Meanwhile there’s a young couple fighting an uncooperative elevator and delayed for 30 minutes while trying to throw out an old box spring. They finally get the box spring out of the building just in time to see the child dangling from the wires. As they quickly positioned the bed the boy fell and landed safely. if the elevator hadn’t jammed they would never have been there to save the boy. Now, if that’s not a miracle I don’t know what is.

I think this is a wonderful reminder that there may be a very good reason we are being delayed, so don’t stress over it. You just never know if its your own life or that of another that is being saved by those precious minutes.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

Some of you know that I am a Scot of Irish descent and so I thought for St. Patrick’s day I’d share my poem, The Debt Collectors with you. The character in the poem is based on the many hard-working Irish men and women who immigrated to Scotland in the 1800 and early 1900s. Some of  you have probably read it before, but for those who haven’t I hope it gives you a chuckle.



Wore out  from his labors and drowning in despair

He called a family meeting and he telt them tae prepare

The Sheriff and his officers were oan their way again

To  take the claes and furnishings till nothing would remain

Our wee bit stick o’ furniture? will be selt oot oan the street

And the shoes the welfare gave us will be snatched right aff yer feet

Yon blanket oan the recess bed they’re gonnae take an aw

Let’s grab em quick and take em up the stair tae Jessie’s Maw

But when the Sheriff gets here tae collect his pound O’ flesh

You welcome him intae the hoose and bid him take his rest

Cause he’s jist a man oot daein his job and trying tae pay the rent

He’ll unnerstaun the pennies earned ur well an truly spent

We cannae gie him tea tae drink cause the watter’s been turnt aff

But wish him well when er he leaves and try hard no tae laugh

And soon as he’s aff up the street gie Jessie’s Maw the nod

We’ll get oor stuff and raise a gless in grateful thanks tae God

For saving oor wee family and the goods we’ve hard come by

And fur blindin that poor Sheriff’s soft heart and lazy eye.




What though the blossoms fall!

The temple pine-trees softly sing

Of life beyond it all.


From Seasons of Japanese Poetry. Castle Books.

Fred’s Book of Poetry


I’ve loved Fred Beaulieu’s poetry for years. I haven’t been able to figure out if it’s the sentiments or the smooth flow of his work that draws me; or if it’s that his poems touch on every aspect of the human condition, but no matter where I read them, bus, car, plane, doc’s office, home, his poems always make me feel all snuggly like when I’m sitting by the fire engrossed in a good book.

I’m delighted to share that Fred’s first book of poetry: POEMS FROM A SECRET GARDEN has just been published (well done Fred!) and is on sale over at Amazon. And, I might add, it’s very inexpensive. 



Song For A Sunday Morning

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