Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Beneath The Fog

                                                      She walks through the blinding fog
                                                      it engulfs her morning stroll
                                                      Her mind is stuck in marsh and mud
                                                      waiting for something to unfold

                                                      Underneath the shrouded veil
                                                      lies a poem waiting for wings
                                                      To take flight in earnest sail
                                                      in the midst of misty dreams

                                                      Each voice she hears, echoes back
                                                      whispering in the brisk breeze
                                                      Like bells along the aerial track
                                                      amidst the flutter of leaves

                                                      Her heart beat is dancing strong
                                                      soul searching for each rhyme
                                                      Through the dense pathway on
                                                      The bells are beginning to chime

                                                      Drawing her ever so close by
                                                      beneath the fog and bitter rain
                                                      She pulls the sun from bending sky
                                                      her muse plants each tiny grain

                                                      The shadows of mere words
                                                      bounce upon the ground
                                                      Awakens the morning birds
                                                      as silver rays are shining down
                                                      A perfect foggy morning beams
                                                      although words are hard to find
                                                      In the pathway of misty dreams
                                                      Inspiration is never far behind

                                                      Copyright, 2013 Susie Swanson


Tuesday, August 20, 2013


Just a quick update on my New Book, " Echoes Of Time". The PDF is in the hands of the Printers and they are looking it over. If all goes well, they'll be printing my Proof shortly and sending it to me. After I look at it and give them the word they will go ahead and start printing and they should arrive at my door in a few days. To say I'm excited is an understatement. This one has been an extra long process since it is more thick than my last book. But I have to brag a little and say I'm very proud of this one because it has some of my best work in it. I'll keep everyone updated as it unfolds. 
Many thanks to each one of you for your sweet comments on mine. I have been quite busy this summer trying to finish the book and canning season in full swing. If I haven't paid a visit to your Blog lately I'm sorry and I'll make up for it when time permits. Hope ya'll are having a nice summer with plenty of sun. We're getting rain everyday but when I think of those poor people in the West that's losing their homes due to wildfires I feel so blessed. I'm sending up prayers for them everyday. Ya'll take care and God Bless.

Saturday, August 17, 2013

What Is Poetry

                                         The heart asks often, what is poetry, where can it be found
                                         What is its essence, why is it so profound

                                         A deep understanding comes from within
                                         A soul that is searching will welcome it in

                                         As old as life, a fadeless picture still
                                         Wrote in the moment, becomes serene and real

                                         From the heart that gives, so much joy it brings
                                         To each listening ear, it runs smooth as streams

                                         Towards the blue ocean, from every nook and bend
                                         Poetry is ageless, to be remembered when
                                         It can be heard in the wind, the sounds of the rain
                                         The scent of apples, ripening down a country lane
                                         A miracle of color, it draws a picture well
                                         Burning words on a canvas, the heart does dwell

                                         To one seeking answers, they will be sure to find
                                         Though they be stricken, deaf, dumb and blind

                                         When a poet has a vision, in such shining things
                                         It's amazing how words flash, like lifted wings

                                         Copyright 2013, Susie Swanson


Wednesday, August 14, 2013

On A Sunset Shore

                                                   So lovely and straight with the sand by her side
                                                   her heart trembles with joy, this beautiful bride

                                                   She stands like a flower with a flower's grace
                                                   dressed in white satin and fragile lace

                                                   He waits on the threshold near the ocean so blue
                                                   with a smile so tender for the one he loves true

                                                  He reaches out his hand in a wind song breeze
                                                  as the sun glistens on time marked memories

                                                  Unfailing love lifts to last forever more
                                                  when two hearts join together on a sunset shore

                                                  Copyright, 2013 Susie Swanson

                                                  Happy Anniversary to my son and daughter in law
                                                  August 14th, 2012


Sunday, August 11, 2013

Mama's Cooking Lessons

When I was six years old mama decided I needed to learn how to cook. I quickly learned about mama's recipes and they never came from a cookbook.
She never even owned a cookbook that I ever knew. My mama could cook anything she set her mind to and I had no clue.
The hardest thing I ever tried to learn was mama's pinches and such. I never in my life seen so many pinches and I didn't like that much.
A pinch of this, a pinch of that is all I ever seen. I knew I better hurry and catch on to the pinches or I'd be an old maid before I learned to cook cuisine.
She started out fairly simple with taters and she knew so many ways. There was never a day that went by we didn't have taters in different ways.
Let's see, one day we'd have em fried. the next day mashed and some we never heard of before. Mama knew how to cut corners when she was in a hurry, she'd stew them taters and leave us wanting more.
And cooking all of those other garden veggies was a piece of cake. When the gardens came in we lived more high than those hogs and the eatin was great.
I caught on quickly to all those veggies and consider myself a veggie chef today. It was the cornbread that really got me, so many pinches and there was only one way.
That cornmeal came straight from the gristmill, freshly ground. And it had to have just the right amount of each pinch or it was hog pen bound.
A pinch of baking soda and a pinch of salt, or was it two pinches each. That's where I run into trouble and couldn't remember how much to pinch.
Throw a handful of flour in to make it rise and Wha-la, bread fit for a king. The only problem was those hogs thought they were king.
I either put to many pinches of one or the other everytime or not enough. All I know is it wasn't worth two cents let alone a dime, it was bad stuff.
But mama was determined for me to get it down pat., said I just needed to keep on tryin and soon that cornbread would turn out alright but I doubted that.
By that time I'd about pinched all the pinches I wanted to, but I kept on going cause of me being the oldest, mama needed me to see her through.
With a lot of practice and plenty of luck I finally got the hang of making cornbread enough to get by. All the other stuff was fairly simple, even the biscuits I didn't dread and I loved to try.
Made some fine ones too, if I say so myself. They may have turned out rather large every once in a while but they always eat em with a big, old smile.
Shucks, I even learned how to build a fire in the wood cookstove. It was all we had to cook on, but I sure did get my hands burned a lot on that old stove.
And mama always said, clean up your mess as you go. That's why I learned to wash dishes standing in a chair, although I hated it so.
She'd tie an over size apron around my waist and put me up in that chair. It'd take me a while but eventually those dirty dishes would disappear.
Then when I grew up and married my sweetheart he taught me even more. Although he'd been raised up eatin and cooking the same as me he was an army chef and cooked army style galore.
He tried to show me how to make a pie crust and that was a total flop. I finally caught on after so long a time and him being kind, said it hit the spot.
I could hardly wait to tell mama how I made a pie crust and she was so happy for me. I could feel it in the letter she wrote back and her smiling face I could see.
Writing letters was the only communication we had back then. And with us living so many miles away on an army base, letters were my friend.
It was the first time I'd been away from my family and home. I wrote those letters daily and mama wrote them too, and it helped me to carry on.
Shucks, one of my brothers or sister would slip a few lines in every now and then, telling me how they missed my cooking and I couldn't help but grin.
But they never did mention my cornbread at all, I wonder why. Maybe it was because they didn't like the pinches either or they didn't care to try.
I still have those letters today and when I take them out and read them, oh the joy I feel. Especially when I read the one where mama asked me, how you likin that self-rising cornmeal.
Yep that was my mama alright, when it came to cooking and canning she sure did shine. I'm just thankful today she left all of her knowledge behind.
Now mama's cooking lessons might not sound like much to some but they sure have helped me out in more ways than one.
And cleaning up the mess and washing dishes may not be my favorite chore but I know how to get em done in a hurry, I'm a lot more faster than before.
Today I'm more grateful than ever that my mama taught me how to cook. I still use mama's recipes everyday and make up my own as I go along, shucks I don't need a cookbook.

Susie Swanson Copyright, 2013

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

                                          I woke up this morning and got out of bed
                                          I said thank you Lord as I got out of bed

                                          Thank you so much for this brand, new day
                                          I know it wasn't promised but you sent it anyway

                                          Thank you for the sun shining oh so bright
                                           and for watching over me all through the night

                                          Thank you for my health, it means so much more
                                          Each day that I am well I'm more grateful than before

                                          Thank you for my family whom I love so dear
                                          And the love we share is a blessing forever near

                                          Thank you for my life and joyful, endless days
                                          For that I'll cherish and give you all the praise

                                          Thank you for your love and patience without end
                                          I'm so honored to call you my heavenly father and friend

                                          But most of all thank you for salvation when I was lost
                                          And the ultimate sacrifice your son on the cross

                                          copyright, Susie Swanson, 2013

Hope all is well with ya'll. I've been so busy lately I've neglected my Blog and feel like I've neglected ya'll but maybe the canning season will wind down soon, hopefully. Been busy putting my new book together and I'm really getting excited about it. Many thanks for all the comments and visits on mine and I will get back to you eventually. How is your summer going? 

Thursday, August 1, 2013

My Pledge

                                             If I can put new hope within a heart
                                             one who has lost hope
                                             If I can help one climb
                                             an even higher slope
                                             then I shall begrudge no time
                                             or strength that I can spend, for I know
                                             how great may be the need
                                             If I can help through any darkened time
                                             I shall be glad indeed

                                             If I can put a smile upon a face
                                             wipe bitter tears away
                                             put back some inner piece
                                             of a broken heart's dismay
                                             My purpose will have been served
                                             on this my life's one more day

                                             To reach out and touch someone
                                              is worth more than any gold
                                              For I recall how much I have been in need
                                              distressed, distraught, dismayed
                                             and hands have reached to help indeed
                                             that lifted me up and prayed

                                             We all walk together and beside
                                              when life's struggles and trials are more
                                              then any heart or soul can bare
                                              Is it not better then to care
                                              and not ask for anything more

                                              And if my few, small words of verse
                                              can bring joy or a smile
                                              bring comfort to those in despair
                                              walk in their shoes a mile
                                              I shall be glad indeed

                                              copyright, Susie Swanson, 2013