©2020 Mollie Pearce McKibbon
Snow falls on a frosty day
When spruce and pine can barely
Lift their long, sagging branches
With their thick, icy burdens
And my mind, oppressed by
A tyranny of empty pages,
An erratic, errant muse.
© 2020 Mollie Pearce McKibbon
Snow falls on a dreaming day,
When spruce and pine barely
Lift their dragging branches
For the weight of their icy burden,
And the empty white expanses
Of vellum and screen
Press down on my bowed shoulders
While I pursue an errant muse.
When I was just a year old my Great Aunt Bess made me a doll from a bleached Robin Hood flour bag. I know that it was a Robin Hood bag because his picture, although faded, was still faintly visible. When I was old enough to talk I named her Mary and she became my constant companion. She had long yarn braids and an embroidered face. I absolutely adored her and slept with her, ate with her and dragged her (usually by one arm) around wherever I went. Over time her face got tear stained, orange juice stained, and otherwise well-loved. I decided that in the face of any disaster she would take precedence over any other possession I would rush to rescue. The painting above is a water colour I made for my parents in 1971. It hung in my mother’s room until she moved out of her home and into a seniors’ residence. Now it has returned to me and will be passed on to my daughter.
The chair on which my doll is sitting was won by my grandfather who enjoyed lawn bowling. My parents had it repaired and reupholstered for a wedding gift for my husband and me. Hopefully someone will want it as a family keepsake one day.
©2020 Mollie Pearce McKibbon
The winter howls; the winter blows;
The winter sleets; the winter snows.
The winter makes us put on clothes
In other climes we’d never wear,
But here there’s winter everywhere.
The winter’s white; the winter’s cold;
The winter’s ice; the winter’s bold.
The winter’s beauties do unfold
As we trample high and low,
Plowing pathways where we go.
Winter’s fierce and winter’s mean;
Winter’s silver and so pristine.
Winter paints a magic scene
On earth, in sky and on the glass,
Enchantment never meant to last.
Here is a photo of one of my Christmas projects – an afghan. It is finished and wrapped awaiting its recipient.
The first snow of 2019 was beautiful.
Flocked bush at our front door needs no added decoration.
The light dusting of snow on the trees brightened up the inside of our home.
The last leaves clinging to the lower branches of our maple received a chilly coating.
©2019 Mollie Pearce McKibbon
The sky is heavy with cloud;
Pregnant with sleet or snow.
The maples and birches shiver;
Their bright raiment now shed
In scattered heaps around their feet.
No longer wanted, the leaves wait
To travel on capricious winds,
Or to be tucked into hibernation
By gathering mounds of winter,
To sleep undisturbed,
Sheltering the silent soil
And all that lives beneath
Until Spring’s resurrection.