Lucky Charms

Lucky Charms

Gold
sunlight
on waters
aquamarine
embryonic warmth
seafoam between my toes
I reach my arms to the sea
my thoughts ramble and turn to you
summer breezes and rocking chairs
crashing ocean waves, music to our ears
beachcombing, scooping fingers snag treasures
scallops, lightning whelk and fighting conch
mollusks covered in silken moss
seashells bring sweet memories
grateful for your presence
counting my blessings
as I hold close
my precious
lucky
charms

Colleen Keller Breuning © 2023
March 17, 2023

Sláinte!!!  I hope everyone had a Happy St. Patrick’s Day yesterday! Dan and I both had to work all day, but he stopped by Wegmans and got me some salmon to make Salmon Teriyaki, baked sweet potatoes and roasted asparagus for dinner. Yum, that has become our favorite meal! So that was our St. Patrick’s Day celebration.

I wrote this double etheree poem yesterday, thinking of what my lucky charms are and how to integrate the challenge prompts this week. Well, my family and cats are my lucky charms, of course! Lucky charms are like treasures, and for some reason my thoughts turned to how I would beachcomb and search for shells at Captiva Island.  The place is a mecca for shells, the entire beaches are covered in them early mornings after the tide has come in. When we lived in Florida, we went at least once a year for a family vacation and have wonderful memories from those trips. I collected bucketloads of beautiful shells over the years, and I remember giving some to my Dad years before he got sick with cancer and passed away. He kept some of these shells in his cigar box of treasures, along with various photos I’d taken of the Captiva sunsets, Europe and other trips. I had always hoped to take him to Captiva someday. But it was not to be.

When Dad passed away, I put one of the fighting conch shells that I’d collected on his gravestone. Everytime I would visit his gravesite, the shell was still there, surviving all the snow, summer weather and gusty winds. It was originally a smooth and shiny, and it had a bright orange pink color.  It faded to white from the sun’s bleaching over 19 years. One time last year when my Mom visited him, she noticed it was gone – either blown away, picked up by an animal or disposed of by the groundskeeper. It brought me comfort to see it there for many years, so I really need to go back and take him another one of these shell treasures.

Though Dad never got to see the beauty of Captiva in his years on this planet, he sees it all now. The beach reminds me of Dad… we spent wonderful Keller family vacations at Chincoteague when I was younger. In 1987, we took Vince to Ocean City when he was just a toddler. We stayed at the old Lankford Hotel, and I will never forget summer nights on the porch. He would smoke cigarettes, rocking in the big rocking chairs, and we just sat together silently, listening to the crashing surf. It was such a wonderful memory that stays with me always! I wrote a poem about it called “The Lankford” back in 2005 or 2006. I also wrote of the Captiva seashells I gave to him in the poem “Fighting Conch” in late 2000’s. Both of them are featured in my book “Shadows of My Father.”

And so for you, Dad, here is one of my favorite Irish sayings:

May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
The rains fall soft upon your fields,
And, until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

Xoxo
Colleen

Mood: Pensive
Inspiration: “Be” by Neil Diamond – one of my Dad’s favorites

Ecrits Blogophilia Week 37.14 Topic: Lucky Charms
Hard Bonus: Mention an Irish saying in your blog (Sláinte!! and The Irish Blessing)

Easy Bonus: Include 3 different shades of green (aquamarine, seafoam, moss)

Whistle of the Train

Whistle of the Train

I can hear your voice calling me,
a gentle breeze across the sea,
in the mourning dove’s sad refrain,
with every whistle of the train.

As tracks of hot tears stain my face,
my heart longs for your warm embrace,
a balm that soothes this endless pain
with every whistle of the train.

The candlewick is burning low,
twenty years gone, I miss you so.
My love for you will never wane
with every whistle of the train.

I can hear your voice calling me
with every whistle of the train.

Colleen Keller Breuning © 2023
February 25, 2023

To Dad… I know you are watching over me. I miss you and love you so much!

Mood: Missing You
Inspiration: “Dear Father” by Neil Diamond

Happy Saturday, everyone! I started this poem on the 20th anniversary of my father’s death, which was February 17, 2023. But for some reason, I needed some time and space to finish it, so I put it aside. I have been so busy at work, and I was aware this day was coming soon. But when I looked at the calendar that morning it hit me like an anvil to my heart. I started to weep, tears of sorrow falling for the man who gave me life. I couldn’t seem to shake it, so I let the emotions out.

Dad was our rock, a gentle giant, a silent man. However, when he had something to say – you listened! I feel like he was my protector, as most of siblings undoubtedly feel, too. He realized that I was young, stupid and was going to learn things by my mistakes in life. Yet he stood by me and loved me throughout these challenges. Both he and Mom have been there for me through many difficult times, my darkest days. I am ever grateful to both of them for giving me the best possible childhood, even though we struggled financially at times. I have the happiest memories to carry me through life.

Trains have a significant meaning in my life since my Dad worked at the railroad yards.  Growing up, he would take me to some of these locations, let me explore the parked caboose and roam around the yards. I would clean up the office space, even cooked a baked bean dinner on a small gas heater one time at Cumbo, a remote rail yard in West Virginia! That probably would be considered taboo in this day and age, but I loved it. Every time I hear a train whistle, I think of him. I don’t hear them often where I live now or when we lived in Florida. But at my Winchester office, I hear the nearby train whistle several times each day, and it is such a comfort to me. I feel as if it’s my Dad telling me he is just fine.

Naturally, we all wish we could have had more time with him. He died way too young, only 68 years old. It was small cell lung cancer, as he was a life-long smoker. It was absolutely heart-wrenching to see how that disease consumed him. It really hit me thinking how Dan and I are inching ever closer to that age, and facing our own mortality is frightening. I guess we need to try to make the most of every day we have on this Earth!  I think that is a message we should all take to heart.

The video I am posting from Neil Diamond is a song Dad loved and played often. It has a special place in my heart and evokes memories each time I hear it. Have a good weekend!

XOXO Colleen

Ecrits Blogophilia Week 34.14 Topic: Freedom of Choice
Hard Bonus: Write a Kyrielle Sonnet (my writer’s choice)
Easy Bonus: Include a train whistle (my writer’s choice)

Scattered Stardust

Scattered Stardust

Southern skies beckon this warm summer night,
Horizon stretching to infinity.
As Venus and Mars cast radiant light,
The Milky Way blossoms in full glory.

Inhaling deep as the twilight unwinds,
Emotions are steeped in indigo blue.
I travel the galaxy in my mind,
Endlessly searching for remnants of you.

As the nightingale sings a mournful tune,
I sense your presence beyond shooting stars.
I find your face in the full amber moon
And know you are watching me from afar.

Memories stretch far as the eyes can see,
Scattered stardust for an eternity.

Colleen Keller Breuning © 2022
July 24, 2022

For My Beloved Dad….

Warm summer nights always remind me of the good old days. I have such happy memories of living on Guilford Avenue. We loved that home and backyard, and that tiny duplex seemed huge at the time.  Like many, we grew up without air conditioning OR a shower – only a bathtub shared by a family of 7, imagine that!  Snapshot vignettes of my Dad come into my mind and for some reason, many of them were from summertime.   

I remember the time he chased a bat in the house with a hat on, broom and dustpan in hand.

I remember how he set up an exhaust fan in the bathroom window, which magically drew a delightful, cool breeze into our bedroom windows at night.

I remember him watching the Long Meadow fireworks from our playroom window with us.

I remember when he worked 3rd shift and how we failed at being quiet as he slept during the day.

I remember his love of all music, from Mozart to Neil Diamond to 5th Dimension to Creedence Clearwater Revival.

I remember him taking me to the railroad yards where he worked, where I explored endlessly, cleaned up and pretended to work.

I remember him playing baseball with all of us kids in the tiny gravel driveway in our backyard.

I remember how the cool basement was his escape, where he used to tinker with old radios and work his jigsaw puzzles on a mint green wooden table.

I remember how excited we were when he drove the library bookmobile down our street and stopped in front of our house, giving us a personal tour.

I remember his love of trains, and how he set up an intricate model train set that fascinated us.

I remember sitting with him in the middle room, watching baseball on the small television set as he drank a Piehl’s beer on a hot summer night.

I remember him driving through Hurricane Agnes to take us on a promised day trip to visit The Smithsonian in Washington, DC.

I remember fun times with the Keller family at the picnics and Chincoteague.

I remember him teaching me how to drive on a manual shift Chevelle, and his infinite patience as I had difficulty mastering the clutch.

I remember dancing with him at Homecoming Dance. 

I remember how all children and babies – grandbabies, nieces, nephews, friends and strangers – gravitated to him.

I remember his words during one of the most painful times in life, and how he inspired me to make the necessary changes.

I remember evenings rocking on the porch with him at the Lankford Hotel in Ocean City as he smoked cigarettes.

I remember his endless love and his support throughout my life.

I remember the last day that I saw him.

I will always remember what a wonderful man and a wonderful father he was to all of us.

I love you forever, Daddy.

One of Dad’s favorite Neil Diamond Albums, Jonathan Livingston Seagull.

My Christmas Spirit

My Christmas Spirit

Tender hearts swell with gratitude,
The season casts its festive mood.
Twilight twirls in fresh fallen snow
As Christmas lights twinkle and glow.

Cardinals cavort in branches bare,
Winter sun fades in crimson flair.
Your spirit calls when cold winds blow
As Christmas lights twinkle and glow.

Memories of you warm my soul,
Your absence left a gaping hole.
Tears and emotions ebb and flow
As Christmas lights twinkle and glow.

Tender hearts swell with gratitude
As Christmas lights twinkle and glow.

Colleen Keller Breuning © 2021
December 31, 2021

Memories of Christmas past always come to mind as I am decorating for the Christmas holidays. This year, for the first time in 8 years, I decided to put up some of my Dickens villages. It always makes me think of my father, for some reason. He delighted in seeing the lighted houses when he visited our Florida home shortly before he was diagnosed with cancer in 2001. We had him around until February 2003, and then our whole world changed.

Not having Dad around, especially at the holidays, makes me a little melancholy at times. He is my own personal Christmas spirit that comforts me when I am feeling sad or unsettled. I know he’s watching down on everyone in our family, with a huge smile. I believe he’s proud of all of us, to see how our families have grown. I only wish my grandchildren could have met him. I miss you and love you, Dad.

I hope all of you had a wonderful 2021 and holiday season, despite all the turmoil, COVID, and heartbreak we have seen in this world. I wish you all peace, health and joy in 2022!

Love,
Colleen

Mood: Pensive
Inspiration: “In the Bleak Midwinter” by Ric Mills

Blue Reverie

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Blue Reverie

As the clouds dance their pas de deux
In the blue reverie of the night sky,
Moonglow reveals the spirit of you,
And my heart is lifted up so high.
In the blue reverie of the night sky,
Stardust mingles with the shooting stars,
And my heart is lifted up so high
Above the treetops, so very far.
Stardust mingles with the shooting stars.
Birds serenade with gentle lullabies
Above the treetops, so very far
As wistful tears sting my weary eyes.
Birds serenade with gentle lullabies,
Invoking memories from long ago.
As wistful tears sting my weary eyes,
A restless breeze blows through my window.
Invoking memories from long ago,
My senses stir within, the past reborn.
A restless breeze blows through my window,
Imparting sweet essence of apples and corn.
My senses stir within, the past reborn,
Walking hand in hand through fields of gold.
Imparting sweet essence of apples and corn,
Countless chapters remain unwritten, untold.
Walking hand in hand through fields of gold,
The autumn colors paint their brilliant hues.
Countless chapters remain unwritten, untold.
Oh, to have just one more day with you!
The autumn colors paint their brilliant hues
As amber sun plays in periwinkle skies.
Oh to have just one more day with you!
I have much more to say than a final goodbye.
As amber sun plays in periwinkle skies,
My heart breaks with the call of the solitary loon.
I have much more to say than a final goodbye,
But the hour of parting has come too soon.
My heart breaks with the call of the solitary loon,
Moonglow reveals the spirit in you.
But the hour of parting has come too soon
As the clouds dance their pas de deux.
Colleen Keller Breuning © 2014
September 26, 2014

Shadows of My Father ~ The Poem and The Book

"Shadows of My Father" by Colleen Keller Breuning © 2011

Shadows of My Father

As a child, I walked through the park
hand in hand with my father.
Brimming with energy and innocence,
I played a game of hide and seek,
jumping into his enormous shadow.
My elfin figure was gobbled up
by his lumbering adumbration,
stretching long across the path
illuminated by the springtime sun.

Young and stupid in love,
I felt as if my father’s shadow
was falling over me, somehow
supplanted in my subconscious.
Though I could not see it,
I could feel his image lingering,
cutting through the darkness,
watching me as I made mistakes
from which he could not protect me.

I could sense his shadow slipping
away that New Year’s Day,
battle weary from the fight of his life.
With a weak smile on his face,
my father gazed at me
from his hospital bed.
I knew from the far away look
in his soft hazel eyes
that I was saying goodbye.

Now as I walk alone
with the sun on my back,
my own blackened silhouette
extends before me.
There are no huge hands to hold,
no large shadows to jump into.
But my soul is at peace,
and I smile, knowing that I carry
his shadow inside of mine.

Colleen M. Breuning © 2011
All Rights Reserved

This poem was the one that inspired me to do a tribute book of poetry to my father. Though the book contains many poems about experiences with my father, there are other subjects covered in the work presented within. I want to thank my family, friends and network of fellow writers who have shown great support, not only by purchasing the book, but in giving me such positive feedback throughout this process. I love you all!

Published in “Shadows of My Father”
Available now on Amazon:

https://www.createspace.com/3556166