Carmen's Chronicles: Magpie Tales

Showing posts with label Magpie Tales. Show all posts

Sunday, July 03, 2011

Magpie Tales 71 - The Eyes Have It - July 3, 2011

I am nearing sixty-seven,

With aches and pains, it's true,

But I really like my trademark eyes,

In every shade and hue!

With fifty years of practice,

It's so much a part of me,

I match the outfit of the day,

With no colors less than three!

I could paint the Sistine Chapel,

With the shadows I possess,

But I always want another,

To match that very special dress!

As I age, it gets much harder,

To get it all on right,

Soon I'll have to give it up.

Or I might just look a fright.

BUT, should I win the lottery,

I will see if I can find,

A resident make up artist,

To give me peace of mind.

Carmen Henesy

I am participating in Tess Kinkaid's Magpie Tales 71 -

check out the site and add your own to join in the fun!

Monday, March 21, 2011

Magpie Tales 58, The Eve Before Battle, March 22, 2011

The Eve Before Battle

He looked out at his armies,

Vast and mighty they,

Poised again for battle,

At the light of day.

The moon lit up the valley,

That soon would be blood red,

With thousands of young warriors,

No life for them ahead.

His beautiful black stallion,

Was restless in the night,

Perhaps the steed could sense,

This would be the final fight.

He prayed for God to guide him,

With his family shield held high,

Using swords of his forefathers,

He would give the battle cry!

Carmen Henesy

March 21, 2011

I am participating in Tess Kinkaid's Magpie Tales - check out the site and join in the fun!

Sunday, March 06, 2011

Magpie Tales 55 - It's Not Nice To Eat The Last Bite - March 5, 2011

It's Not Nice To Eat The Last Bite

We had a Meyer's lemon,

Growing in a sunny spot,

And it was just amazing,

The amount of fruit we got!

The fruit was oh, so luscious,

Brilliant yellow, full of juice,

I'd love it, when on Sunday,

Mother made a lemon mousse.

There was always lemonade,

To quench a summer's thrist,

My brother and I fought,

To see who got ours first.

I'd really love the times,

Mom made her lemon pie,

With the lightly baked meringue,

She piled on very high!

Of course, I can't forget,

And I'd thank my lucky stars,

When I'd get to take to class,

Her home made lemon bars!

At the yearly county fair,

Folks said it was absurd,

She always came in first,

With her lemon curd!

The lemon tree is gone,

My mother bakes no more,

She hates the sight of lemons,

Flashbacks of bloody gore.

I was eating all the ice cream,

When my brother came from class,

And he walked in and he cut me,

With a piece of broken glass.

I had fifty stitches,

And our lives forever changed,

And what happened to my brother?

He is totally deranged.

Carmen Henesy

March 5, 2011

I am participating in Tess Kinkaid's Magpie Tales - check out the site and join in the fun!

Thursday, January 13, 2011

"N" is for Notes, Songs, Singers & Songwriters - January 13, 2011

I cannot write a single note,

And I cannot carry a tune,

Thank heavens for special beings,

Whose talents make me swoon.

Some put notes down on paper,

Which musicians then can play,

When sung by a wonderful vocalist,

It, literally, makes our day.

Other songs when sung and played,
Have such a happy beat,
There is no way on earth,
We're not dancing in the street!

Of course, we cannot all agree,

On the music that we like,

But we willingly pay the price,

To see our favorites at the mike.

Old crooners like Sinatra,

Will endure throughout the years,

The romantic verse he sings,

Can start the sentimental tears.

The long haired lads from Liverpool,

Some fifty years ago,

Gave Beatlemania to the world,

Which still basks in its glow.

The rappers of today,

Might not be your favorite choice,

But, in this song by Tupac,

He praises his mother with his voice.

The dynamic Holland duo,
Who've become dear friends to me,

Are a singer-songwriter team,

Who are as great as they can be

Music can transport us,

To far parts of this earth,

To share in other cultures,

Or the countries of our birth.

Music helps to soothe us,

To clear our minds of stress,

It's so readily available,

A tool that most possess.

So, never let a day go by,

Without your music fix,
Program your cell or IPOD,

With your favorite mix!

Carmen Henesy

January 13, 2011

I am participating in Jenny Matlock's Alphabe Thursday and

Tess Kinkaid's ( Willow's ) Magpie Tales.

Check both sites out and join in the fun.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Magpie Tales, #44 - A Sudden End - December 12, 2010

We drove through miles of falling snow,

Then saw the house so filled with light,

Its windows shone with Christmas glow,

A welcoming beacon in the night.

"There's grandma's house", I whispered,

Gently shaking Jason next to me,

He woke up in an instant,

And gave a shriek of joyous glee.

Before we reached the bottom step,

My mother waited, with smiling face,

Jason raced up snowy stairs,

And dove into her warm embrace.

After breakfast, we climbed the stairs,

To the attic, in hopes we'd find,

Treasures a ten-year-old would think,

Were of the most wondrous kind.

Jason thrilled to Grandpa's trunk,

With army uniforms and such,

And the wooden city that he'd carved,

Seemed to please him very much.

After exploring for awhile,

Jason spotted something overhead,

There, hanging sadly on the wall,

Was my father's trusty sled.

We took it down, with utmost care,

And deemed it fit for a hillside run,

Jason could barely contain himself,

He knew he was in for a day of fun.

And fun he had sledding on that hill,

Even climbing back till he reached the top,

He kept it up, at a dizzying pace,

Until his Grandma made him stop.

He paused for lunch, hot chicken soup,

An enforced rest, then he was out the door!

No matter what his Grandma said,

He wasn't tired, he wanted more!!

As the sunset colors filled the sky,

We laid down the law, time to stop,

Jason came, took off his things,

And sat on the couch with a surly plop.

I went outside, in the brisk cold air,

And saw the sled, calling out to me,

I felt the pull of the snowy hill,

And wanted the feel of flying free.

I pulled the sled to a starting place,

Gave a running jump and fell on top,

With total humiliation, of course,

All I really did was drop.

Benearth me, in a splintered pile,

Lay my father's sled, like pick up sticks,

My ample frame had done it in,

Leaving not enough to even fix.

I made a furtive drive to town,

My face as red as it could be,

The toy store still had sleds in stock,

For my father's sled was history.

Carmen Henesy

December 12, 2010

I am participating in Willow's Magpie Tales - check it out to see the other wonderful posts!

Friday, December 03, 2010

Flash 55 Friday & Magpie 43 - Whose Bright Idea, Was This? - December 3, 2010

Flash 55 Friday & Magpie 43

Whose Bright Idea, Was This? - December 3, 2010

Let's drive up to the lake house,

For a wintery holiday!

We'll start a roaring fire,

And, somehow, find our sleigh.

We'll make a hearty dinner,

And drink hot buttered rum,

We were pleased with our plan,

But now we're feeling glum.

When Ashley heard the growling bears,

She broke her leg on snowy stairs!

Carmen Henesy

December 2, 2010

I am participating in both Mr. KnowItAll's Flash 55 Friday

and

Willow's Magpie Tales

Check out both sites and join the fun!!

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Magpie #35 - Leaves - October 12, 2010

A season of such beauty,
Nature's artistry unfolds,
The foliage all around us,
Reds, crimsons, even golds.

The air is fresh and crisp,
Winter snow hovers near,
Autumn leaves in brilliant beauty,
Add their notes of festive cheer.

A vibrant canopy of leaves,
Offers shelter from the sun,
Until a rising evening breeze,
Sends them flying, one by one.

By morning and the falling rain,
There are lovely leaves no more,
They have fallen from the trees above,
And lay on the forest floor.

Carmen Henesy

I am participating in Willow's Magpie Tales - join us!

Tuesday, October 05, 2010

Magpie #34. The Light Within, October 5, 2010

Magpie #34, The Light Within, October 5, 2010

The cabin seemed so very small,

High on the mountain slopes,

Yet it held a growing family,

Filled with dreams and hopes.

The mother woke at dawn's first light,

And sent them on their way,

With a breakfast that would last them,

Through their very long school day.

In the solitude, she tidied up,

Mended clothes and swept the floors,

Pulled weeds out of the garden,

And finished up some other chores.

She went down to her husband's grave,

And lay sweet roses there,

And, once again, asked the Lord,

How his death was really fair.

He'd always been the kindest man,

Who helped all those in need,

And thus he went one rainy night,

To do a neighborly deed.

His horse slipped on the footpath,

On the rainsoaked mountain trail,

And all efforts made to save his life,

Were to no avail.

With the oil lamp lit, she waited,

All the long night through,

While the children slept, oblivious,

Her terror slowly grew.

The preacher came before the dawn,

And saw the soft light glow inside,

And broke the news to this dear lass,

That her beloved husband died.

Carmen Henesy

9-30-10

I am participating in Willow's Magpie Tales.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Magpie Tales #33 - Something Stinks in Portofino - September 28, 2010

Stephanie had spent the past month on the Italian Riviera. Somehow, the lifestyles of
the rich and famous seemed aberrant to her after the two months of summer vacation
she had spent volunteering in the refugee camps in Darfur. She wished she had stayed
there for her final month before returning to her senior year of medical school at Harvard.
Her mother had insisted, however, that she "have a little fun" and had arranged for her
to see family friends who owned a villa halfway between Portofino and Santa Margherita.
She had finally acquiesced when her parents agreed to let her take a week long seminar
at the International Institute of Humanitarian Law in San Remo. The class, which dealt
with refugees and international law fueled her desire to continue providing medical
services to the victims of the genocide in Darfur and the Sudan.

She glanced up from her book as Luigi approached the pool. He looked like a model and
had, in fact, appeared several times in photo shoots for Pal Zaleri. They were about the
same age and had spent a good deal of time together since they were toddlers and
their fathers, famous cardiologists, first met at an international summit. Over the years,
he had become a pompous, spoiled young man, who had little regard for others. It was
clear that Luigi was used to getting whatever he wanted. This past month, it seemed
he wanted her.

"We're taking the yacht and sailing over to Monte Carlo, then on to Barcelona," he
announced. "There will be about ten of us. You know everyone. We'll be back in time
for your farewell party before you return to America." Stephanie really did not feel like
a jet set party but she finally agreed. She would be headed back to school in less than
a week and she was very happy to be leaving. She was tired of fighting off Luigi's
advances.

The group aboard The Portofino Princesa was in high spirits. The chef prepared exquisite
meals and bottles of Barolo poured freely. Luigi constantly tried to drag Stephanie to the
owner's cabin on board the yacht. "You are leaving and we have not even had a chance
to be alone," he pouted. "Precisely," she responded, slipping away from his drunken
embrace. "You are like a brother to me, Luigi! I'm not interested!" She finally managed
to pull away and went to her cabin.

About 3AM, she awakened to find Luigi standing over her, holding two glasses of wine.
He was wearing a bathing suit and his usual fragrance, Acqua Di Parma. He leered at
her as he set the wine on the dresser. He bent over and tried to kiss her, fumbling
under the coverlet to touch her breasts. "For God's sakes, Luigi, get away from me,"
she hissed. "Get out of here now." As she struggled to move away from him, Luigi
grabbed her wrists, pulling her toward his cabin. "You know you want me." In a fury,
Stephanie went with him. Before he threw her down on the bed, her hand grasped
the bottle on the dresser and squeezed tightly. It was the Acqua Di Parma. She
moved swiftly. It made contact with his head, giving a resounding, "thump,"
shattering and spilling perfume everywhere. She ran from the cabin and dove
into the Mediterranean waters off the coast of Nice. As she swam she thought, "I
hope I never smell that stuff again."

Carmen Henesy

Tuesday, September 07, 2010

Magpie #30 - What a Waste! - September 7, 2010

For twenty years, he'd suffered,

He'd dreaded every single day,

His wife was never satisfied,

He couldn't please her any way.

She'd always wanted children,

But it wasn't meant to be,

And she was most adamant,

No adopted family!

She lived in isolation,

And felt that he should, too,

His only respite was his job,

He hated when his shift was through.

She had no family of her own,

And she balked at a social life,

He wondered how he'd ever,

Asked her to be his wife.

She refused to see a doctor,

She denied there was a need,

She grew angier and more distant,

When he would try and plead.

She was always finding fault,

Though he helped about the house.

His mates at the factory teased him,

That he was a henpecked spouse.

Finally, he felt his mind snap,

He could take no more abuse,

With the weekend looming ahead,

He knew the route he'd choose.

He had it planned and ready,

For his wife ate an apple a day,

She had only taken a bite,

When she unsteadily began to sway.

As she collapsed, lifeless,

He had his suitcase in his hand,

For he had a flight to catch,

To a faraway distant land.

Carmen Henesy

I am participating in Willow's Magpie Tales.

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Magpie #29 - The Dream House - August 31, 2010

Their wedding was a grand affair,

At a bluff above the sea,

After two weeks in the South Pacific,

They settled down happily.

Their jobs were most exciting.

And both were quite well paid,

They filled their upscale condo,

With the finest furnishings made.

On their second anniversary,

She smiled as he poured champagne,

"I think it's best for the baby -

You'll understand if I abstain."

They decided to move from the city,

And went house hunting everywhere,

They looked inland and near the sea,

And found one beyond compare.

It was being sold by the owner,

An elderly gentleman whose wife had died,

As he recounted their lives there,

He broke down and cried and cried.

The lovely house was pefect,

With large rooms and shiny wood floors,

And there was a garden planted,

Outside the pretty French doors.

The kitchen was full of windows,

And cabinets lining two sides,

It had much charm and beauty,

Yet would suit the most modern of brides.

From its perch on the bluff,

One could see the ocean below,

And as the sun began to set,

The house took on the rosiest glow.

The price was quite a bit higher,

Than the couple had wanted to pay,

They were concerned about their budget,

With a baby now on its way.

The old gentleman had several offers,

But money mattered little to him,

So he looked at the couple and asked,

What would be affordable to them.

The house is filled for Thanksgiving,

The new baby is sweet as can be,

The guest of honor is the old gentleman,

Who has become part of their family.

Carmen Henesy

Monday, August 23, 2010

Magpie Tale, #28 - Something's Missing - August 24, 2010

The week just past was awful,

I worked late every night,

And rose each day at dawn,

I know I looked a fright.

I ate lunch at my desk,

And turned down dinners out,

My friends were getting worried,

Of that there was no doubt.

The project was completed,

The deadline finally met,

I wearily left the office,

And got in my Corvette.

Once home, I was indulgent,

I feasted on pate,

Followed up with caviar,

Saved for a special day.

I washed it down with bubbly,

A vintage bought in France,

And put on soothing music,
The cat looked at me askance.

I lit candles in the bathroom,

And got out relaxing scent,

And as bubbles filled the bathtub,

Into the soothing warmth I went.

I lay listening to the music,

Then realized my rotten luck,

With all that preparation,

I forgot my rubber duck!

Carmen Henesy

I am participating in Willow's Magpie Tales - come and join in the fun!

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Magpie Tale #27 - The End is Near - August 17, 2010

It hurt with every breath he took,

The cottage felt so cold,

He hadn't any food to eat,

He was pathetic to behold.

His grandson tried to move him,

But he said he had to stay,

Where he'd lived for sixty years,

And had joy in every day.

He didn't mind rusty water,

From plumbing beyond repair,

And even in his solitude,

He never felt despair.

He said it was temporary,

He knew the end was near,

Here, he had his memories,

Of all that he held dear.

When they came to check on him,

In just a little while,

With his wedding picture in his hand,

He lay dead and wore a smile.

Carmen Henesy

Saturday, August 07, 2010

Reborn - Magpie #26, Saturday, August 7, 2010

It had been a painful divorce. Fran had discovered that her husband's business trips had necessitated his secretary's services and that did not include taking dictation. Her
friends had warned her that the wealthy young CEO was a "player" but she had ignored
them, even when he had insisted on a prenuptial agreement which left her little, should
the marriage end.

For the first year, life had seemed blissful to her. David worked hard but he was very
attentive. Their life was a round of social events, parties, season's tickets to the opera,
symphony, theatre, sports events. They often got away with friends for long weekends
to Mexico, Hawaii, and Canada but, slowly, that began to change. David pleaded
increasingly demanding international clientele and, if they managed dinner together
twice a week, it was a major happening.

The night of their second anniversary, they had reservations for the weekend at Napa's
Silverado Country Club. David had their driver take her early on Friday, explaining he had
a business meeting at 5PM but would join her in the dining room at 7PM. She took great
care to dress exquisitely, in a new gown she had gotten at Neiman Marcus the week
before. The waiter had a bottle of Kristal champagne chilling and, as the maître d'hôtel,
walked her to her seat, he quickly opened it and poured her a glass. She smiled as he
handed her the menu, inquiring if she was dining alone. Fran exlained that Mr. Devries
should be arriving in ten minutes.

Half an hour later, as she was quietly seething, the maître d'hôtel returned and handed her
an envelope with the country club letter head. "It was delivered by your husband's driver,"
he explained. Fran took it and walked out of the dining room and back to their suite.

Inside the envelope, David had written a terse note, stating only that he no longer wished
to remain married to her, had filed for divorce and was enclosing a check for $50,000
to help her begin life on her own. He expected her to vacate the house in a week. She
could keep her clothing and personal belongings and all the jewelry he had given her, and
her car, but nothing more.

In between fits of tears, Fran plunged into a frenzy of house hunting. Her $50,000
wouldn't go far, even augmented by her savings of $25,000. When her realtor finally
called with a little cottage in the Sierra foothills, "a bit rundown but with potential", she
agreed to make the 130 mile drive. It was love at first sight. Armed with her camera,
Fran took a hundred photos.

The cottage was seventy years old, with a magnificent view of the mountains. A porch
wrapped around the entire front of the house and an awning kept out the bright evening
sun. A brook gurgled on part of the two acres of land belonging to the house. There was
a huge living room and kitchen, two bedrooms and a large bathroom and a screened
porch on the back of the house. Daisies and poppies grew in profusion and tangles
of rambling rose bushes grew in disarray all along the drive leading up to the house.
The yard was bone dry, desperately in need of water, and large planters of shriveled
vegetation filled the back porch and yard. An old rusted watering can sat near the steps.

Her mother was horrified when she drove up to see it but Fran had already put $25,000
down on the house. She explained that the quiet and solitude were just what she needed
right now and she planned to finish the novel she had begun right before she met David.
She found a handyman advertised at the market in town and, within two weeks, the
entire place had been painted inside and out. The blue paint and white shutters gave
the place a cheerful facade and Fran was busily at work on window planters and flowers.

In the back, she found some boxes full of bulbs. She had no idea what they were so
she planted them in the yard along the back porch. There was no faucet back there so
she cleaned up the old watering can, painted it with dark green paint, and used it to
water her bulbs. It served its purpose very well! In April, before Easter, she was
rewarded with a glorious display of tulips of yellows, pinks, and reds. As they poked
their heads heavenward, her heart began to open up to the sun as well.

Tuesday, August 03, 2010

Laughing All the Way to the Bank - Magpie Tales, Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Sarah climbed the stairs of the small farmhouse to her aunt’s bedroom, feeling
incredibly weary. It had been a long day and she felt so alone and bereft. Her aunt
had been her only living relative. She hadn’t been ill a day in her life and, suddenly,
without warning, her heart stopped beating as she slept in the bedroom where she’d
spent every night for the past sixty years. Sarah had gotten the call while she was
making rounds at St. Mark’s Hospital where she was a second year surgery resident.

She arranged to take a week’s leave and went home to make arrangements. Old Mr.
Jeffries, her aunt’s attorney, told her that the old farmhouse, paid in full, and all her aunt’s possessions had been left to her. There was no money, really, other than the small trust
Sarah’s parents had left when they were killed in a car accident when Sarah was ten.

The following morning, dawned bright and sunny and Sarah began to take an

inventory of the house. She would not sell it. She loved its bright cheeriness and the

lovely furnishings and it had been her home for over eighteen years. Tears stung her

eyes as she thought of her aunt, busy in the kitchen, baking wonderful cakes and

cookies and showering her niece with love. It would be a struggle to keep the farmhouse

and to pay the taxes on it but, once she finished her residency, she would be able to

afford it. She wanted to practice in town where her father had been a physician and

the farm was only a short commute. And it would be a wonderful place to raise children,

she thought, touching the diamond on her finger.

Upstairs in the bedroom, she looked at the old white trunk, wondering what was inside.
It was locked. Where was the key? She looked on the dresser and in the drawers,
without success. The lock was old and quite rusted. The trunk itself was of rough
wood, and sat in a corner of the room. Sarah thought that, perhaps, she could use
a screwdriver to break the lock. It was then that she noticed the red velvet ribbon
hanging on a hook inside her aunt’s closet. Dangling at the end of it was an old rusty
key. After several tries, the key turned the lock. Sarah lifted the creaking lid. It
seemed that the trunk held old dressing gowns. She lifted the top one away, then
gave a gasp, grabbing at the other. There before her, were stacks and stacks
of money, twenty dollar bills, tied in packets of five hundred dollars. When she
was finally finished counting, she realized she was two hundred thousand dollars
richer than she was when she started.

I am participating in Willow's Magpie Tales