Category Archives: Poetry and Prose

Artsy Fartsy Autumn Blessing

May you continue to be surprised by good days.

May you hold them fast; and just loosely enough to enjoy every moment and not be plagued by expectations they will last or fail.

May you be gob-smacked by beauty frequently enough to rise every morning in anticipation and close each evening with a sigh of content; and have hard work enough placed in your path to keep you rooted firmly in reality.

May your soul be always limber enough to dance; and your spirit strong to love.

May you have equal parts romance and intellect so you never have to choose between the two.

Life is good.

Be grateful always.

Herewith, some pictures of what I mean:

What a Life I’ve Had

What a life I’ve had!

Ah, what a life I’ve had!

But I think I’ll have some more;

More pain more gain, more money, more glory!

Ah, what a life I’ve had!

Nothing the same for the past,

Sixty or sixty-five or seven,

Not one year like the other.

I must have lived nine lives,

Not as a cat;

But as a Mother,

As a sister to a brother,

As a wife, a partner, a daughter.

Ah, what a life I’ve had;

Running a business, commanding my own Starship Enterprise from an office chair,

Taking out the garbage, sweeping the dust,

Eating the losses.

Ah, what a life I’ve had,

Singing with the best, accompanying all the rest

With 88 keys at my fingertips;

Raising the young to love history and rhyme;

What a life, what a life.

Studios, stages, microphones, lead-lines,

What a life I have had,

Learning that everything speaks,

Stooping to hear what is said,

Taught by rocks and rivers and meadows.

What a life I have had!

What a fine time cutting my losses, hedging my bets,

Smelling the roses – – by whatever name.

Ah, what a life I have had!

But, I think I’ll have some more;

More pain, more gain, more money,

ALL the GLORY – this time!!!!!

Cherry Odelberg, May 2021

Wherein Life is a Beach

Let me tell you a story; Let me spin you a yarn; Let me relate how my life has been going; And you can write back and share yours!

I’ve been patient and impatient; Happy and sad; But mostly my life has been fabulous; When I remember not to dwell on the bad.

My box of books finally arrived! Originally printed in 2009, The Pancake Cat was rereleased June 24, 2020 with an all new cover featuring the artwork of Andrea Shellabarger. Four new illustrations grace the inside chapters along with content updates.

Did I say released on June 24? Though the book has been available at Amazon, Barnes Noble and Target since that date – and now even Books A Million, Indie Bound, Powell’s, and Walmart – I did not hold an actual copy in my hands until yesterday, July 31, 2020. Thirty-seven days is the embodiment of line five of that little ditty above: I’ve been patient and impatient.IMG-5595

Patient and impatient I may have been, but I have not been idle. Oh no. During that time I have been working on a fresh new professional website. It’s been coming along swimmingly – and about as fast as running through knee deep water. But then what is life if you can’t feel like you are at the beach? We all like to float away now and then. Anyway, I was running through thigh deep water, spending hours and hours with Youtube tutorials and I added Woo Commerce and opened a web store complete with T-shirts and book bags and books. I have lots of experience selling T-shirts and books so it seemed like a good idea. And then, I fell flat on the beach and was immediately buried in sand and the tide came in and washed over me. The new amateur looking web store completely over wrote the three professional looking pages I had just given six weeks of my wonderful life in the mountains to establish.

I did the only sensible thing a woman in my position can do: I took a fast-thinking hike. In fact, I took several fast thinking hikes. I slept on it for a couple nights. I contemplated retail therapy – I believe a kayak is in my future. My good health and sanity demands I get on the water. And then I called my web host and retrieved the professional pages and dismissed the new experiment. We are not completely starting over. We only have to go back a few paces.

Meanwhile, I finished an eight-minute slideshow – complete with four old hymns piano tracked by myself- for my mother’s upcoming memorial service. And then, the instructor for the virtual choir class I am taking assigned me to re-record some tracks. Apparently I am supposed to sing doot doot doot as opposed to doo doot doot – or, heaven forbid, dooT dooT dooTT.

My Dad is wondering why I don’t come see him more often now that I am retired and COVID is keeping me from a steady job.

Actually, my life is pretty fabulous when I remember to eat right, sleep right, hike, make music and let it go. How about you?

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Herewith, I lay these heroes to rest

Quarantunes #7

They say, no matter how multilingual one is, in times of stress, we return to our native language. There was much that was lost during COVID-19; but there was also much that was gained. I found freedom of expression in a return to my creative languages. I have learned to share again through music and words via technology. There has been time for reflection on my past – and time to ponder how much of that past I want to take into my future. Welcome to May, 2020! As we begin to come out of our isolation cocoons and venture back into our new normal; this week instead of a piano snippet; I present you an original reading, “I Saw My Hero Fall.”

I SAW MY HERO FALL

I saw my hero fall before my eyes

Gut-wrenched I was because for moment’s pause

I thought utopia had finally come

He was so handsome – understanding – wise

I saw my hero lying on the bed,

his arms entwined; with those of someone else

And though he never ceased to lavish me,

I could not acquiesce – be one of three,

To me, who once treasured his hero heart;

Dead. He is only a man after all.

I found my hero slow to act when back

To back with hardship shared, he shut me out

And I was left in cold and stone, to make

A home for me alone, from sticks and straw

That I myself had faithfully gathered

From the common man, I expect failure,

Not from men to whom I swear my fealty

From the riff raff, I endure rejection

But not from those entrusted with my heart.

I saw my hero fall, beside the desk

A massive falsehood swirling in his head

He had forgotten who he was, who I

Sideswiped by multitude mutinous lies,

Karma of ruthlessness returned to haunt,

And that is why I’m shy of any man,

who trumps my hand at brains, brawn, heart or lust;

I saw my hero fall, and I can trust

In mere men, no more, when gods are needed

I saw my hero fall before my eyes

Gut-wrenched I was because for moment’s pause

I thought utopia had finally come

He was so handsome – understanding – wise

©Cherry Odelberg April 29, 2020

Holding Out For a Hero

And you thought they were cowering at home

And you thought they were cowering at home?

But she was writing a book that will change the world;

Making music to sooth troubled hearts;

Building her body in preparation for acts of heroism;

Nurturing young minds formerly neglected in the headlong rush for survival;

Cowering at home?

He was repairing primary relationships;

Going solo to a lab to perfect a cure;

Relearning to write with paper and quill and penmanship;

Forging a pen mightier than a sword;

Reading and writing to defeat the dark enemies in his mind;

Communicating across oceans with the latest in technology;

Cowering at home?

She was centering her mind on what really matters;

Retrieving forgotten childhood relationships;

Apart physically but together in mission;

Cower? Who do you know that is cowering?

She’ll bring them fabric and elastic and instructions to manufacture masks;

Cowering was the farthest thing from her mind

It matters not if it was she or he or me;

Cower? They don’t cower. They seize the day.

 

Survive or Thrive? Putting my house in order

Cherry Odelberg, November 2011

The fall weather is beautiful.  It makes me want to set my house in order, get rid of the chaff of a lifetime, prepare for a cozy and uncluttered winter. At the approach of 2012, I made it my goal to live the year as though it was all I had been given, a gift of 365 days to thrive or survive.  I have survived, stabilized, reached a rhythm of contentment where I love my life and am mostly free of worry.  Yet, in the remaining two months, I want to thrive.  There are still things to do, places to go, people to see; even as I tuck everything in for the winter. I want to finish strong. Though it is not baseball season, I would love to knock one out of the park before the year’s end. A home run, a victorious finish, that’s what I want. How about you?  Are you exhausted by the time of year or exhilarated by the time of year? I want to align with Caleb:

Mt Garfield from Holy Cross

Give me this mountain!

‘Tho my sight is gone my vision has not dimmed.

Morrow Lake Trail

Give me this mountain,

And renew my strength to mount on eagles wings.

For I have seen you miracles and I believe your promises,

I have run the race, and in your name I now obtain the prize!

Give me this mountain,

One more thing before I die,

Hermits Rest, Morrow Lake

One more chance to prove your promises,

One more war to wage for right,

One more race to run with you right there by my side.

There’s been fire by night and clouds by day,

Manna eaten along the way,

Dry land where the sea had been,

And water from a rock to meet my need.

Morrow Dam Lake

Give me this mountain!

Tho a valley lies beside it,

And Jordan River bound s the other side.

Give me this mountain!

Let me conquer while the young men stand in awe.

I have lived to see this moment and from the highest peak I’ll cry,

Independence Monument, late summer inversion, 2012

“Give me this mountain!

And in peace;

Let me die!”

Cherry Odelberg 1995  (the irony of this date is not lost on me, I was 40 years old when I wrote these lyrics and first recorded the accompaniment)

Write!

I took my usual course of action and went for a walk.

Life had taken an unexpected turn, so I stressed;

And questioned;

What now?

Clear and unmistakable;

Concise as one word;

Came the answer.

WRITE.

Still, I continued to question.

Who will I write for?  Who will buy my stuff?

What? What am I supposed to write?

When will I find time to do this if I am frantically trying to make a living?

Where am I supposed to write if I am homeless?

Why is this happening to me?

Then came another one word answer:

YES.

What kind of answer is yes?

Asked I, in near desperation.

Yes what?

Who

What

When

Where

Why

How

Yes, that’s write.

Simple.

Concise.

Yet, to my human emotions, so complex.

 Cherry Odelberg, January 30, 2012

Belated for Father’s Day

Young Dad;

Seriously clad;                                                         

Riding a bike with a baby.

Baby asleep;

State of art seat;

Lulled by the sunshine and motion.

Responsible fun;

Naptime done;

Goals accomplished through memory making.

(Happy Father’s Day, 2011, Cherry Odelberg)

Children’s Fiction for Autumn Reading

Autumn is here.  Leaves are beginning to change color and fall.  It’s that kind  of weather again.  Time for baking cookies, for lighting the fireplace.  Time to curl up with a mug of apple cider or hot chocolate and a good book.  Do you read good books to your children?  Do your children like to read chapter books for themselves?  Now is the time to order The Pancake Cat for your cozy times. The Pancake Cat is available online, or by special order from your favorite local bookstore.  In honor of the changing of the season, here is my favorite chapter for free.  You can also read chapter one at Xlibris.

Chapter 18

Showdown

Jim Deckert’s dog was loose. How he got out was a mystery. The Deckerts had installed a five foot chain link fence two years ago when they moved in. Chain link was a little unusual in a neighborhood where everyone seemed to prefer the appearance of six foot wood slats. The best thing about chain link was that Andrea could see right through the Deckert’s yard into Mrs. Garcia’s yard.  This morning there was no need to see into other yards. Frank, the dog, was free. Did some sixth sense whisper to him that cranky Mr. Hinkman was in Houston visiting his daughter? Never mind how he had won his independence; Frank was now trotting up the alley, making detours into   every yard with an open driveway gate.  Andrea and Philip were eating oatmeal, so it wasn’t Saturday. Gracie was on the patio happily consuming a pancake, leftover from a few days before.

“Frank’s playing in the alley,” chortled Philip.

“Maybe he doesn’t have school today,” said Daddy as he came into the room and grabbed the car keys.  A burst of laughter came from the table.

“Hurry Andrea or you’ll be late for school,” called Mom from the other room.

“Frank doesn’t have school today,” choked Andrea.

“Well, middle school isn’t always in session on the same days as your school. Maybe Frank’s school is having a teacher work day,” reasoned Dad.

Andrea and Philip laughed helplessly.

“Middle school is in session today, Daddy,” said Andrea, “Tex left 30 minutes ago.”

“Tex? Is that the name of the Furwakawa boy? Where did he get a name like Tex? Frank sounds like a nice name for a neighbor boy.”

“Frank is a dog,” said Philip. “Here he comes.”

Frank trotted in the gate and up the cement drive without breaking pace. He trotted straight toward Gracie. Gracie was so intent on the last half of pancake he did not notice Frank’s approach until it was too late.

Frank barked. Gracie startled and ran. Frank chased him across the yard and up the nearest tree. Losing interest, the dog returned to polish off the pancake. Apparently Gracie never forgot who it was that cost him the pancake. He stayed hidden the remainder of the day, biding his time. Next day, and the next, Frank was safely behind locked gates. On the third day Gracie made his move. He circled Frank’s yard. He came close to the fence. Staying about six inches from the chain link, he meowed. Frank bounded to the fence barking. Gracie ran the length of the yard with Frank in pursuit on the other side of the fence. He turned at the corner and ran back. Finding Frank could not get to him, he added a grand finale.

Leaping high up on the fence, he clung there, spread eagle, three inches out of Frank’s reach. Gracie hissed and meowed, taunting Frank. Frank barked and yelped and circled the yard in a frenzy. Finally Jim Deckert came out and called his dog inside. Gracie hung a few moments longer, then dropped gracefully to the ground and sauntered off, satisfied.