she is: **CC**

Granny Rutter

Chris Bevis

The little boy with Legos
Spread upon the floor
Dreaming engineering feats
Building building more.
Then sends photos onto Granny
On a far & distant shore.

*note & poem from Granny Rutter
hand-written on a scrap of an envelope

Sun is up

Wind is down

Birds are hungry

Traffic is heavy

Sea breeze in

Dancing in the trees

Alan pounding

On his plumbing

Nancy & Helen home from walking

Butcher bird calling

*Dawn E. Rutter ©2011
~ letters to Mary

Old Age

Old minds slip away.

Yet there’s life in the clay.

The mind age will spurn

So the child can return.

in a letter to Mary

Old House

The house on the corner is empty and old

The windows are broken and let in the cold.

Once people lived there, bright sassy and gold,

Warm was the house with a family to hold.

It creaks in the moonlight and breezes that blow

Dreaming of a past with lights all aglow.

Now rain through the roof and ceiling can flow

Remnants of a garden still trying to grow.

It's a shame for a house to lose its pride,

For a house, once a home, to a groom and a bride,

Then children's sweet laughter was ringing inside,

Now vacant it stands with a soul that has died.

**Dawn E. Rutter

Now little one, just go to sleep

You have a date with dreams to keep.

I wonder what you see in dreams

That glow along the bright moonbeams.

*Invocation*

God is everywhere.

He reflects in the silver of a tear,

The rainbow of a smile,

Flowers everywhere.

God speaks in the voices of all creatures.

God gives hope in the birth of every child.

God gives us faith to love one another.

Who can deny God when:

Opening our eyes each morning to greet a new day?

When we see puppies tumbling in play?

When people like you and me

Can meet by some unseen route across the country and world?

And even the atheist

Calls on God or Christ in his final moments.

“I’m 91 ½”

I walked today

A block each way,

I stopped to pray,

Thanked God today.

Watched children play

Along my way,

I’m glad to say

I walked today.

Dawn E. Rutter

January 2013©

“Dawnettes”

by Dawn E. Rutter ©2013
~letters to Mary

Planes

Flying

Through the skies

Blue or cloudy

Silver birds awing –

Planes

Beer

Foaming

Chilling fingers

Cooling throats

Summer refreshment

Beer

Nests

Barren

In winter

Waiting for spring

Renewal expected

Nests

Loons

Loons, so beautiful a bird,

Across the lake its call is heard

With flute like reedy vibrations,

On land such awkward gyrations.

Existing in any weather,

Precise each black and white feather,

Surviving tiresome migrations

To replete new generations.

Monogamous – mating for life

Sharing nesting tasks with wife.

I hear the long awaited trill

That all the summer days will fill

Minnesota’s loon has returned –

Its red eyes like sunsets burned

Into the very heart of man

Who helps nest building where he can.

“Morning”

The bright fingers of morning

Shredded the curtain of night,

Pulling the sun out of bed,

Waking our world to delight..

Song birds round the world are heard

When sunrise fades the moon,

In every hemisphere

The birds sing their own tune,

**Dawn E. Rutter

Haiku ~

paper kites on high

reaching for the sunlit sky

oh if I could fly.

The Cook

Above the town of Cazadero

Stands a cabin bare and stark,

There are gaps between the floorboards

Where mice come up after dark.

No conveniences afforded

Lights were lanterns, kerosene,

An old wood stove for cooking

But the cook was city green.

Lumbermen would fetch fresh water

To the cabin for the cook

And the meals she cooked and served them

Can't be found in any book.

There was venison, in season,

All the fellows called it chow.

It was never very easy

But she preserved somehow.

Now that cook has gone “down under”

Where the food is strange again,

With a bloody ‘lectric stove,

That can be a royal pain.

Oh the trials of that old wood stove

Were a challenge long ago,

To a woman young and daring,

Who has now grown old and slow.

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