For the Fallen. For the Families. For the Silence They Left Behind.

The thought of losing a child cripples me [emotionally]. Although I have thankfully not lost a child to war my mama heart hurts so deeply for those who have that is how this poem was born so many years ago.

That is why I share it here today.

But let me not forget – let none of us forget.

Memorial Day is more than a long weekend, a parade, or a flag waving in the warm breeze.
For many families, it is a chair left empty. A voice that no longer answers. A folded flag resting where a son, daughter, husband, wife, father, or mother once stood.

Today, we remember those who took an oath beneath a flag of pride and came home draped beneath it.

This poem was written years ago, but like grief itself, its meaning never ages. It is for the mothers who still whisper lullabies into silence, for the families who carry pride and heartbreak in the same breath — the same trembling hands. And for every fallen service member who gave all they had —whose absence still echoes through the lives they left behind.

Little Man
By Janna Hill

IT’S TIME TO GO TO bed little man
Cover up your head little man
I’ll see you when the sun breaks in the morn
Say your prayers and close your eyes
I’ve locked the monsters all outside
She’d sang those words to him since he was born

He grew to be a brave young lad
And followed after his ole dad
Beneath a flag of pride his oath was sworn
They brought him home in silk lined wood
And all around him soldiers stood
While Butterfield’s Lullaby played upon the horn

It’s time to go ahead little man
I know that you weren’t scared little man
My heart breaks I can’t see you and I mourn
I’ve said my prayers for your closed eyes
I’ve tucked my feelings deep inside
She sang into a folded flag of thorns.

The Pilgrims Prayer (Another Speech Another …)

Welp, it’s another year therefore another speech and another prayer.

Actually, the only thing new is the year and boy did that one fly by.

I’ve been sharing variations of the Pilgrim’sPrayer and a similar speech since … I reckon since the pilgrims sat down with the Indians… or last year.

Ha! I crack me up.

Anywho I’m sure it’s been a couple of decades, maybe more.

So today while my herbs and chicken are boiling, the cornbread is in the oven and I’m resting from all of the chopping and prepping I anticipation of tomorrow’s dinner I thought I would share with you, family and friends, my ponderings and hopes for all of us one more time.

[drumroll]

A Pilgrim’s Prayer

I didn’t really know any of the original Pilgrims but I did see a few John Wayne movies. John knew a pilgrim when he saw one; he seemed to know a lot of pilgrims.

I never actually knew a pilgrim in the sense of an early settler but I suppose that we are all pilgrims. Not a lot of us sailed across the ocean in a ship to arrive here at this moment in time yet, each one of us on a journey of sorts. We are all looking for something. Be it a quest for affirmation or confirmation, for a certain truth, enrichment or a cure; we are all seeking a measure of comfort, or a friend, a lover, a job, a meal or simply a place to lay our weary head at the end of another day.

Life is a journey, a pilgrimage if you will, for each and every one of us, or at least it should be.

I’d hate to think any we are just flailing through this experience killing time on this giant floating gum ball or this massive flat plane, which ever explanation of earth satisfies your mind.

Whatever your preference is we all have one destination, true we may travel many different roads in getting there. 

Hopefully we will choose our roads well.

When we do take a wrong turn [and we will from time to time] I pray that we have enough sense and humility to stop and ask for directions; the sense to know good from evil direction and what directors to trust.

When that room turned presents itself well after the fact, I pray we have the courage to admit we took a wrong turn and learn from it. That may be the best that any person can hope for.

To learn from our mistakes.

So here’s wishing all of you pilgrims a Happy Thanksgiving and may we all, whatever road we’re on, take the time to look ahead, pause and bow our head in thanks.

My personal prayer:
Thank you Father, The Creator of all things, for this day and all it holds. Thank you for the days past and Father forgive me for my wrong turns. Thank you for the day to come and guide me to make better choices. Thank you for all the persons in my life and the ones who read this prayer. And Thank You Father for the beacon that lights my way.
In Jesus name. Amen.

Winter Solstice (The Long Long Night)

Here in the northern hemisphere today is the winter solstice, the first day of winter, aka midwinter. It is reportedly the shortest day of the year hence the longest night.

It is also that time of year I routinely share this bit of poetry with you all.

Torn from the pages of Getting Me Back ( The Voices Within)

Keep your hearts warm my friends. Brighter days await.

Autumn Equinox 2024

Summer Adieu

It’s out of the flip-flops, and back in the Reeboks and long pants dug out of the dust

So long to the tank tops, bikinis and cut offs and lawn chairs left lying to rust

Adieu to the sand dune, the pelican and plain loon

My loves, we’ll see you `fore long

Leaves drop as trees swoon, long past the crop moon

With the scent of a sweet autumn song

Let’s all take a big swill to ward off the night chill

Winter’s a season away

Crank up the camp fire; avoid the ole quagmire

With children perched high on the hay.

Poem from Getting Me Back

More about the Autumn Equinox at Farmers Almanac 

Adieu Summer – Hello Autumn

You can’t tell it by the temps here in Texas but… It’s fall y’all. Here’s wishing you all a wonderful season and a plentiful harvest.

Poem from Getting Me Back (The Voices Within)

Happy Valentine’s Day

Ain’t Love Grand

Ain’t love grand?

Sure it is… but sometimes it’s not.

Sometimes it is tattered and torn and embittered…

Sometimes it’s so snarled and twisted it leaves nothing but ashes in its wake. Take it from Ishmael.

HaPpY ValenTines DaY

ROSES FROM ISHMAEL (263x400)

Love IS grand – until it ain’t. If you have a real love and a healthy relationship you should celebrate that every day. Don’t be the characters I write.

Roses From Ishmael was originally published as a single& then in Once Upon a Dead Gull and Short Stories & Such.

This short is available Wherever books are sold. Including Barnes & Noble & Google Books/ Play