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About This Author
Hi there!
I'm a grandmother, a nursing educator, an avid knitter and an aspiring writer. I created this page for family and friends who expressed interest in reading my writing. It is mostly poetry with a few short stories sprinkled here and there .
The poem on this page is one my Mom favored. The collectible trinket is from a needlework picture of Longfellow's home she completed. Mom loved poetry and was an avid reader. She and my brother, Rasputin   , inspire me still.
I have a published form modification called the Rondel Grand Modified; it is located here:
http://www.poetrymagnumopus.com/forums/topic/2842-invented-forms-found-only-at-w...
Drop me a note by clicking on the "Contact Me" link above and let me know you stopped to visit.
Happy reading and write on! |
Frayed Feisty Threads - Book IV #897909 added November 19, 2016 at 11:52am
Restrictions: None
Simply Joe
Rasputin
A simple but powerful name invoking an image of a grumpy old man, hunched over, as legend has it. But I know from experience that my brother was a far cry from the legendary character.
Rasputin
Who was this member? He was my little brother. He was known by various monikers, some friendly some humorous. He was known as Little Joe to his friends, but he was a mountain of a man. He was often described as a character – and he was. He worked hard and was dedicated to his wife Linda. He was a devoted husband and father. He could, in brotherly fashion, be exasperating and annoying, but I loved him dearly nevertheless. You could say he was a study in contradiction.
I looked up to this giant of a man who bemusedly tolerated my efforts to crochet him a yellow sweater – of all colors to choose for this towering woodsman who loved the outdoors! He tolerated even more my energetic daughters who rode on his feet as he walked across the floor, giggling and begging Uncle Joe to keep walking.
Rasputin
He was a craftsman and gardener, building raised gardens in his yard this summer, proud of the herbs he grew. He loved trains and built a functional track around his living room. It was every child’s dream – and Joe’s! He loved Halloween, dressing up and offering wisdom with candy to all who stopped by to greet him. He was that fun Uncle – the perpetual child who never stopped dreaming. And those dreams fueled his imagination shaping the characters in his stories.
Imbued with a love of life, a love of reading and a gift for writing, he honed his skills while spending time outdoors. He loved the woods, fishing and hunting. He had great respect for wildlife and all living things. He was a prolific and talented wordsmith – writing stories that would make us smile, move us to tears and give us pause. Of all Joe’s talents, I will miss his musings most. We shared family memories – of late, many sad, but memories nonetheless.
Rasputin
You wrote
"Tell us a story, old man.” The old man smiled and began to speak in a deep harmonic voice. Slowly with the magic of woven words, in the dancing and crackling firelight, the cold was swept away, the room faded and all who heard became entranced,transported to a land and a time they had never known. When he was done, he raised his eyes from the fire and surveyed the contented crowd around him. He grinned, and thought. “It was a simple tale. Really.”
Joe, your life was simple but oh so full! Spending time in your home, I am acutely aware of the void your presence filled here. Sitting with Linda in comfortable silence, I expect you to walk through the door any moment, wondering why I’m here. There is an ache in my heart that will not yet abate suppressed by a sense of wonderment and surprise that you are not here. I can not believe that you have departed this world.
Rasputin
How is it that you are gone from this earthly plane? You had many tales to tell and we had not yet learned to listen.
11/4/15
Twila
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