Christmas Solo

While my husband was deployed I was feeling overwhelmed about carrying the responsibility of holiday traditions and creating fun memories for the kids to enjoy. I took some time to reflect on these feelings and was inspired to write this poem called "Christmas Solo."

The presents were wrapped

And the stockings were hung

The stories were read

And the carols were sung

We put up the tree

And we saw all the lights

We watched all the movies

And had some late nights

The cookies were baked

And treats were delivered

I let the kids skate

While I stood there and shivered

I watched their recitals

Recorded their plays

Took them to parties

Ate sugar for days

We served at a home

For the elderly souls

Played BINGO, served cocoa,

And shared candy bowls

Will they even remember?

Will the kids really care?

That someone was missing?

That their dad wasn’t there?

Have I kept the traditions

As best as I could?

Done all the fun things

As I know that he would?

Have I kept them too busy

To remember the reason?

Why Christmas is special

The whole point of the season?

I’ve checked all the lists

And believe me, there’s plenty.

Now the big day is here

Are we finally ready?

Physically, Yes, but

Emotionally, No.

I don’t want to spend

This next day alone.

I have family of course,

And the kids will be there,

And the neighbors have showed us

How much they all care.

But it won’t be the same

And I guess my big fear

Is “Will I ever stop,

If I shed just one tear?”

So I’ll wash my face

And put on a smile

And hope it will last

For the next little while

‘Cause there’s plenty of things

To be happy about

The looks on their faces

As they scream and they shout

Christmas morning will come

And the day will be spent

And we won’t even know

How the time came and went

Most times I’ll be happy,

Sometimes I’ll be sad,

And that’s okay too

‘Cause I miss their dad

But one thing I promised

I’d never forget

Is that I’m not alone

And the end is not yet

For Christ is my Savior

My companion, and friend

He came to bring hope

And His strength He will lend

So when I feel weak

And I can’t do it all

I will fall to my knees

And His name I will call

To carry my burden

To lift up my soul

To help me get through this

And make me feel whole

And when I look back

I will see how I’ve grown

And know that I couldn’t

Have done it alone

Analyn Rose

My brother and his wife suffered another devastating miscarriage of a baby girl whom they named Analyn Rose. I felt the need to write a memorial poem to offer them some comfort.

Analyn Rose

Her heartbeat echoes in my mind,
The sound of life within.
Our family's hope and joy combined,
A new life to begin.

But when her heartbeat disappeared
And silence filled the room,
The devastation we most feared,
Was stillness in the womb.

We may not know the reason why
The Lord has called her home.
But though we have to say goodbye,
We know she's not alone.

For she will join her brother Montee,
'Til our lives come to a close.
And reunite our heav'nly family
With our sweet girl Analyn Rose.

Take Me To The Mountains

There is something about being in the mountains that rejuvenates my soul. I always feel a deep sense of peace and serenity as I take in the beauty of the trees and the quiet stillness of the mountain air. I felt it was time I put these feelings into words.

Take Me To The Mountains

Take me to the mountains

Where the water comes to life

Let the lakes and rivers wash away

My overwhelming strife

Take me to the mountains

Where the trees grow thick and strong

Watch them dancing in the subtle breeze

And listen to their song

Take me to the mountains

Where my hands can touch the sky

And fill my breath with air so pure

It leaves me with a sigh

Take me to the mountains

Where my heart can slow its beat

Giving strength to heavy shoulders

Weighed down by life's defeat

Take me to the mountains

Where the silence can be heard

And my thoughts can rise to heaven

Without a single word

Take me to the mountains

Where my soul can be restored

There I'll lay down all my burdens

And give them to The Lord

Painting With Words

I find that most of my poetic creations come to me late in the evening when it's quiet, and often when I'm lying in bed trying to fall asleep. It can be frustrating sometimes when my mind is racing with words and won't rest until I write a few of them down, so it's ironic that I decided to write a poem about what it's like to write a poem. :-)

Painting With Words

If I were a painter

I might get more sleep.

But writers paint words,

And words seldom keep.

They run through my mind

At the end of the day.

If I don't write them down

They might fade away.

Words that describe

What I think, How I feel;

Giving life to emotion

That's hard to reveal;

Unlocking the gate

'Tween my head and my heart;

Releasing the tension

Where healing can start.

Worries and dreams,

Old memories past,

Feelings of hope

Disappear all too fast.

So I paint with my words,

Try to capture each thought,

Blend the colors together

With feelings it brought,

So I can remember

In days still to come,

What my heart and my mind

Felt together as one.

With each new experience

This life has to give,

I'll paint with my words

What it feels like to live.

Tell Me Your Story

When my Grandpa Bartschi passed away, I realized that one of my greatest treasures is a collection of stories written by him about his life. He was a very humble man, and rarely did I hear him talk about himself. But as I sat there and read through his stories, I learned so much about the experiences that shaped him into the man I knew and loved.
I have a deep appreciation for Family History and the impact it can have on our lives. Last night my thoughts were keeping me awake, so I decided to write them down in a poem. Thank you, Grandpa, for sharing your life with us.

Tell Me Your Story

Tell me a story

‘Bout when you were young.

Show me the place

Where your mem’ries are hung.

Take each one down

And relive the past;

Every sight, smell, and sound

From beginning to last.

Tell me a story

‘Bout where you grew up.

I promise to listen

And not interrupt.

Take me down back roads

And up in the hills.

Show me where childhood

Gave you its thrills.

Tell me a story

‘Bout your true love.

When you first held their hand

Did it fit like a glove?

What was it like

To have kids of your own;

To teach them the things

You wish you had known?

Tell me a story

‘Bout what you have learned

From trials and challenges;

Victories earned;

How you became

Who you are today;

The one I look up to

To show me the way.

Tell me your story

Dear loved one of mine.

For that is why God

Gave us life so divine;

To learn by example

And teach by the same,

What it means to bring honor

To Our Family Name. 

The Sacrifice

I have a porcelain statue of the Savior kneeling in Gethsemane. My original thought was to display a passage of scripture next to the statue that would reflect my personal feelings about His atoning sacrifice. But each scripture I found wasn't exactly what I was looking for. So I decided to write a poem. That poem grew and developed into lyrics, and became the first song I have ever written. This song is a divine gift, and was created as my own personal testimony of the Savior's promise that was made to all of us in the pre-mortal existence, that He would do whatever it takes to bring us safely home to our Heavenly Father.

The Sacrifice

Verse 1

To possess the greatest love

He had to feel the deepest pain;

Fight through the darkest hour;

Shed blood like drops of rain.

He drank the bitter cup and said,

“Not my will, Lord, but thine.”

And suffered every grief and pain

That burdens you and I.

Verse 2

He was bruised for our transgressions

Yet was spotless from His own.

Mocked and beaten by His brothers

Oh, if they had only known

They chose Him as their Savior

When they lived in heav’n above

How he plead for their forgiveness

Oh, no man hath greater love

Bridge

Though our Heavenly Father loves us all,

His ways are just and true.

And only one could satisfy the cost

To ransom me and you.

Our brother stood and raised his hand

Saying, “Father, here am I.”

“Send me with them to the earth,”

“And the glory shall be thine.”

Verse 3

So He taught us how to love and serve

Our neighbors and our friends;

To pray for those who persecute;

Forgive when one offends.

He asks us to remember Him;

For us to take His name;

That we may have His spirit near,

And through Him salvation claim.

CHORUS

For He knew He made a promise

To the Father of us all

That He would be the sacrifice

To save us from The Fall.

And when we choose to follow Him,

Just like we did before,

He will lead us back into the light,

And open heaven’s door.

Grandma Bowen's Life History 2018

I've spent the past year helping my Grandma Bowen compile a historical record of her life, and was finally able to publish it in June before her 80th birthday. We celebrated her birthday at a recent family reunion, and I was asked to present a shorter version of her life history. As a result, I put my poetry writing to work and came up with this poem.

Grandma Bowen’s Life History Poem

1938-1948

A bouncing baby girl was born in June of ‘38

The Hemsley family fell in love, but couldn’t pick a name.

They stuck her hand into a hat. She grabbed a piece of paper.

“Nada” was the name she chose, so that’s the name they gave her.

She grew up on the Plano farm with two sisters and two brothers.

She learned to sing, and work, and play from Father and from Mother.

Her friends were always cherished, whether real or “make-believe.”

And at the age of eight she got baptized by Uncle Reed.

1948-1958

Nada loved to go to school each day. She loved to read and write.

One day she cut her long hair short and cried most of the night.

Her patriarchal blessing was bestowed at the age of twelve.

Which promised her a life of love and service performed well.

The family moved to Rexburg where she went to Madison High.

Drama club and dancing is where she spent most of her time.

One day she saw a bright red car. The owner’s name was Garry.

They quickly fell in love and knew that someday they would marry.

1958-1968

While Garry chose to serve a mission, Nada went to school.

She learned to be a teacher at the famous B.Y.U.

Her first class called her “Miss Hemsley,” until her love returned.

After the winter wedding, “Mrs. Bowen’s” name was learned.

They started out in Logan, where Kim and Pam were born.

Then off to Jackson for the summer, working night and morn’.

A few years down in Fresno, then Bates, then Brigham City.

While two more children joined the fun. Their names were Craig and Cindy.

1968-1978

A new job moved their family to a place near Murtaugh Lake.

Where the kids could ride a horse and, in the winter, learn to skate.

Mrs. Bowen served her ward and taught in elementary schools.

Where Pam and Craig passed through her class and learned her classroom rules.

Then opportunity knocked again and soon they moved once more.

To a town called Sugar City, not knowing what’s in store.

A massive flood destroyed their home and many things were lost.

But faith and family kept them strong despite the heavy cost.

1978-1988

The years had quickly come and gone. Soon Kim was on a mission.

And Pam was writing letters to a guy that she was missin’.

But when the Elders both returned, the wedding bells were ringing.

And soon their families welcomed sounds of new born babies singing.

Nada bid farewell to both her Dad and Sister Ruth.

Their passing was a bittersweet reminder of gospel truth.

While serving in the Ricks College Relief Society,

They sent Craig on his mission after a history trip back east.

1988-1998

Another missionary flew the nest as Cindy left for Guam.

She went back for another trip, and this time brought her Mom.

Awards were given for Outstanding Teacher of the Year.

Mrs. Nada Bowen earned the title and the right to cheer!

Her sister Beth joined Dad and Ruth in heavenly reunion.

And soon her Mother followed, adding to the sweet communion.

With empty nests they packed their things and moved up to The Farm.

Where Nada retired with 30 years of memories so warm.

1998-2008

The Idaho Falls Temple had a job for her to do.

With Garry by her side, they served the Lord and people too.

The Farm was sold and tears were shed as memories said goodbye.

They moved closer to the temple and had family nearby.

She gathered Hemsley History and made quilts to pass the time.

They even went to Europe and saw Norway’s fiords sublime.

But Garry’s health was failing; cancer caught them by surprise.

The man she loved was called back home; the hardest of goodbyes.

2008-2018

Her family rallied ‘round her and she traveled quite a bit.

From Rigby down to Utah and Arizona. What a trip!

She lived in Eagle, Idaho for a year, or two, or three.

Then settled down in Bountiful close to Cindy’s Family.

Her family keeps on growing, adding members every year.

She loves to see their faces as they fill her with great cheer.

Her life of love and service is a blessing to us all.

Happy Birthday, Grandma Bunny! We love you most of all!