I've been looking through some old journals lately, and I found some forgotten things. I am not a regular journaler, though I did manage to keep one for several years on a reasonably regular basis. I've thought on occasion that I'd like to get back to journaling, but I've been busy writing for this Website and doing other things. A good friend recently told me not to worry - that my journal was written in my children, the poems that come, this website.... How encouraging!

Among all my "poem wannabes" I found Imagination's Transportation. It began as I took morning walks while I lived in a small town. I could choose to walk left and I'd be in suburbia. Or, I could choose to walk right and I would be among cornfields, a bridge with a stream, and attractive old country homes. (Which way would you choose to walk?) I would scribble my observations on scraps of paper, then frequently go back to my porch with a cup of coffee later in the day and let it come together.

I had a hard time deciding where to put it - in The Poetry Corner or in Parent Poetry. As you can see, the latter place won out. I thought it would give you a glimpse of my kids and me - what kind of relationship we had, what we did on summer evenings since TV was very limited for them at their ages (11, 12, and 14).

Summer wanderings near and far Cause my mind to be ajar. Summer sun burns off night's haze; What's uncovered as I gaze? Am I on a Scottish highland, Transported in time as I stand? - Memories of old tales I've read Start spinning 'round in my head. As I stand upon "my" bridge I feel I'm very privileged To gaze on woods and sparkling stream. - Across the road's a country scene. Questions start to come to mind: "Man and dog - what do they find As they walk nearly every day In the fields out the country way?"				And, "What's there under the road By rain-fed stream - myst'ries untold?" My boys would be happy, I know, To find out; they've told me so! Sometimes they walk with me at night When fireflies glow with dancing light; Moonlight gleams upon the corn Which stands tall, alert till morn. We let imagination roam, Talking of things far from home, Or of dreams, hopes, and plans, Letting go of the day's demands. To allow the mind to wander, Let it roam, let it ponder, Let God speak through meditation Is evidence we're God's creation.

I hope you enjoy my summer poetry section (maybe I'll even add to it sometime!) and your summer. It is a perfect time to get reacquainted with your children and enjoy some family time. Think of it as an investment for the future. - Barb

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