Another great find


In a few posts I have described the things I have found in my attic. Most times my finds bring me back to a time and place I had forgotten about. I love antiques. I started collecting antiques at an early age. My dad loved to go to antique shops; he’d take me with him on his scavenger hunts for “treasures of the past” as he coined them.

During a visit with my daughter we finally had the opportunity to go an antique store housed in an old barn. What a place. You really need a day to see all they have to offer. As I was browsing at all the stuff I came across a 1940’s Royal typewriter. It was just like the one my dad had at home. It was stolen right after he passed away. I was heart-broken because my dad so loved his Royal machine as my father called it. I actually learned to type on that machine. I couldn’t believe I was looking at the same model. It came with its original case.

I asked the store owner if I could test it. He warned me he was selling as is. I dug deep in my purse and found a shopping receipt. I placed it on the typewriter and typed “Dad”. It worked! The ink was RED. I almost cried. I was so excited.

I bought it right away and could not wait to get back home to put it on my antique desk. I cleaned the machine until I managed to get a shine. I cleaned each key meticulously and I put new ribbon in. I knew I would need to get used to the keys and started practicing. I typed “asdfg” with my left hand and then “hjkl;” with my right hand to exercise my fingers.  I had a flashback to my high school typing teacher. She was a drill master. She listened as we typed to make sure we were in unison like a band playing. The keys are harder to manipulate but the sound they make is like music to me to my ears. It took me a few days to get into the rhythm. After all it had been at least thirty years since I had used a manual typewriter. Word processors and computers was all I used.

 

practicing

I love my Royal machine. I will use it to write some posts. I write letters to my grandson on it. Most of the letters let him know about family and things I want him to know about me and his great grandparents.

I love the bell when it is time to hit return and start a new paragraph. Every time I hear it I am reminded that writing and poetry is about life. This machine makes me feel like a royal. I hope to write many letters to my grandson on it. I told him the machine will be his one day.

 

My first Royal post.

 

 

 

where letters lay                                                                                           Melba Christie (c) 2017

Train Your Memory


orchids

Look for beauty
in the deep shadows
Discover the hues in each blade of grass
Touch the petals of a rose
and let it feel you
 
Produce starlight in your mind
let it shine in your heart
rely on the surprises nature brings too your eyes only
during that single instance that will never be again
a privilege designed only for your memories
Train your memory to love the moment

A poem using movie titles of the 70’s


We could not believe
Woodstock
was on the big screen
as it turns out, so was
The Go-Between
Some of us were
Lovers and Others Strangers
 
The Wild Child
never knew about the dangers
of having no
Bed and Board
There was little
we could afford
 
Three Sisters                                                                                                                           
made love
to all                                                                                                                                         
The Boys in the Band
 
A First Love
was hard to understand
 A true
Love Story
 who knew that
Ryan’s Daughter was                                                                           
A Virgin and a Gypsy
No doubt
A Catch 22
 
The People Next Door
The Aristocrats in town
some begged a smile
and all of them frowned
 
Joe, their neighbor, was
The Man Called Horse
He was also
The American Soldier
who spoke up that day
and yelled without remorse                                                                                                      
 Start the Revolution Without Me
 
And deep in the imagination
Beneath the Planet of the Apes
 there was no escaping
The Owl and The Pussycat
 
Imagine that
these movies all happened
the year of my graduation
when nothing was left to the imagination
 
yet we all wondered how the heck
Cotton Comes to Harlem
116th Street to be exact
Good Old Ben Franklin                                                                                                                                  
 
to be exact
 
And as the song says
On a Clear day You Can See Forever
the End of the Road
or the light in the tunnel
For the Great White Hope
That is a fact!
 

Melba Christie (c) 2013

Cover of "Start the Revolution Without Me...
Cover of Start the Revolution Without   Me
Cotton Comes to Harlem (novel)
Cotton Comes to Harlem (novel) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Cover of "Beneath the Planet of the Apes ...
Cover via Amazon

Haiku 57


Leaves fall today

each unique in every way

a squirrel frolics

Melba Christie (c) 2013

DSC_0024

In Remembrance of 9/11


In Remembrance of 9/11

No matter how many years

Twelve to be exact

What remains is fact

Nothing rids our tears

And deep down at times we fear

What destiny plans for us

However in God we must trust

That never again

There will be a 9/11

Today we all remember

The souls taken from us all

On a day dressed in a beautiful sky of blue

Flags furl courageously around the memorial fountain

as water flows in silence

Soft music strummed on violins

Allow all our Angels to sing

Amazing Grace

Three bells are tolled to mark the pace of

The endless moments now locked in time

As love ones read their names

For all these years and more

Our lives will never be the same

In the crevices that inscribe

Each name in marble for eternity

A mother gently places a rose

In remembrance of a love she can only know

And a daughter traces her father’s name

Although she never got to meet him

Let us not forget today

At any time in any way

Or the atrocities inflicted upon

To many young children so far away

May our humanity and innate goodness

Always prevail

God guide us through hard times

Peace and love must never fail

God bless the souls lost in 9/11

Forever and especially today

Let’s all look up to the heavens

In unison we must pray

God bless America!

May Peace be the only way.

 Heaven Above

Inspired by Robert Frost


 

 

 

 

 

 

A piece of advice
A piece of advice for my children and or grandchildren should they ever need it.  -Melba Christie (c) 2013

 

Inspired by Robert Frost

 

 

It goes on my dear

It goes on no matter what

Even if you feel cheated

Even if you are treated unfairly

It goes on

So you must go on

Today will be tomorrow

before you know it

and tomorrow

we never know how it will turn out

only thing for sure

It goes on after that.

So go on

Gone be the worries

Everything about life goes on

 

Love,

Mom

 

 

 

 

Related articles

what is a poem?


 

DSC_0095

A poem is defined as expressive language. It is an art form that allows for free verse. Poems are musical and rhythmic and uses sounds and imagery to convey meaning. Poems use metaphors and similes and they can create a very intimate conversation between the poet and the reader.

 

The following is a poem about poems.

 

Poems are words a poet collects

 

to convey messages hard to forget

 

or to tell a truth so there are no regrets.

 

 

 

Poems are stored in the heart and soul

 

of poets waiting for their muses to call

 

Poems flow like rivers through the mind

 

and words can be sweet and sometimes unkind

 

 

 

And if there is a cause

 

that needs to be fought

 

A poem can manage

 

and never be caught

 

without a deep thought

 

to stimulate thinking

 

elevate the spirit,

 

and comfort the soul.

 

 

 

A poem is created with lots of care

 

A poet knows

 

no coincidence there

 

the words embrace

 

emotions and fears

 

to make us so happy

 

we can burst into tears

 

 

 

What is a poem?

 

you tell me.

 

for me it’s all that I see

 

smell, hear, taste

 

and touch

 

and everything life offers me

 

that I love so much.

 

 

 

By Melba Christie (c) 2013

 

 

 

 

 

POETRY SOCIETY POSTCARD
POETRY SOCIETY POSTCARD (Photo credit: summonedbyfells)