Tag Archives: poem

The Banquet Hall of the Seasons

This image looks really early 1900s.  I google-searched for poets named “Mamie” and there are actually quite a few.

why i like october
I like October because it reminds me of innocent childhood, shuffling through piles of leaves on the way to school, before the days when people felt the incessant need to banish the sight of them immediately at all costs.  Have you noticed, in these newer neighborhoods, it’s almost impossible to get a decent pile for jumping in?

Because I’m still in love with you

I want to see you dance again

Because I’m still in love with you

On this harvest moon. (Neil Young, lyrics – Harvest Moon)

I like October for the crimson and pumpkin, for the eggplant and rust, and all the colors of the deepening, mature, lusty, whole and passionate part of the year when the autumn moon hangs heavy in the sky like the warm embraces of a tattered, weighty quilt sewn years ago for the need of heat and not some contest of a county fair.  Have you ever been covered in one of those?

I like October because the coffee is richer, the evening cricket is less frantic, more rhythmic.  The sun slants and schedules fall into an easy ritual, the day in and day out are much more organized.   Tans fade, memories are made, soup is stirred, cakes are baked, sweaters come out and life is rich.

Well, it’s a marvelous night for a moondance

With the stars up above in your eyes

A fantabulous night to make romance

‘Neath the cover of October skies (Moondance, Van Morrison)

I like October because my neighbor’s Maple tree explodes into multichromatic, vibrance and dances merrily in a dazzling production for me through my big window each time I walk through the room.  From dark, living green to lime to yellow to orange to scarlet to blood-red and back.  Then, just as all the colors begin to subside, like the finale of a summer fireworks display, a wind scatters the leaves far and wide and they glide and twirl and settle on the lawns with a promise to do it all again – same time next year.

october neighbors maple tree

The tree of which I speak…from the window (this was 2 years ago)

do like October.  Love it, even.

And yes, in all of it, like the poet said, “the opulent Giver I see.”

A Gift


Ageless Beauty walking gently upon the Narrow Path

She runs, she glides, she rests, she makes the journey her home

Eyes roam in search of hidden truths to hold, to grasp and adorn

In never-ending pursuit of the knowledge that evades the apathetic

A solid foundation rooted in love, she unites her family

Her green touch hails life in the dead garden, now fresh and new

With tasks at hand to nurture, to provide, to advise

She shifts in form to embody the need of the moment

Watch on, watch long, wholehearted devotion you will observe

She has an audience in me, I listen and absorb

May I sit beside you, Seasoned Wisdom, on the narrow path?

What will you share?  What must I know?  What knowledge do I lack?

Speak the words that breathe life in the graveyards of my being

Then, permit the Undeserving to leave you with a wish

Hold no more the woes from seasons Time has now retired

Ageless Beauty, age in grace, grow in love, lie down in peace.


From Tredessa Christine Rhoades, (a very wonderful daughter) in watercolor and ink, on the occasion of my 5oth birthday.  At this point in life, you enjoy being described as ageless and timeless.  *smile…


I’ve heard the real me is who I am “in the dark,” who and what I become when I think no one sees.

This morning the opening line of a poem came to me*,one that impacted my thinking way back in the day, probably almost 30 years ago now.  You gotta love Google.  I typed in what I remembered and there it was.  It’s about serving.  It’s about the exuberance of our faith being translated into true love, Jesus-love.  It’s about letting the enthusiastic God-talk line up with the daily walk. It is about serving like Jesus did.  It is who I wanna be when I grow up, even when, especially when, no one else sees…

You know, Lord, how I serve You

With great emotional fervor

In the limelight.

You know how eagerly I speak for You

At women’s groups.

You know how I effervesce when I

Promote a fellowship group.

You know my genuine enthusiasm

With my Bible study group.


But how would I react, I wonder

If You pointed to a basin of water

And asked me to wash the calloused feet

Of a bent and wrinkled old woman

Day after day

Month after month

In a room where nobody saw

And nobody knew.


It’s time to live the life…Jeanie

*The remembrance of this piece may have been triggered by Confluence’s block party this past Saturday in the City.  Some very busy HF leadership team gave their entire day to doing pedicures for people who could never afford it. They truly washed feet all day long.