Janet L. Niehaus

Cincinnati, OH, USA

Although I have been writing poetry for several years I have only recently, within the last year, shared my poems with others. Raised in rural upper New York State on a dairy farm close to the Canadian border, I experienced nature first hand which had a great influence on my life. Being schooled on Long Island, New York City and Indiana University, I finally married and am the mother of two children, Randy David and Deborah Jean. I thank God for being the vessel in which these two wonderful people were brought to earth. As of July 1993, now being a Buckeye, I am retired and enjoying golf, painting, writing poetry and collecting information for my first novel. My poetry is an instrument in which I can use to express my feelings; it also is something I can share with others who find it difficult to put down on paper how they feel. The following are three poems I'd like to share. Know that anything I put on paper in a creative manner is inspired by the one who gave me life, My God.

The Dandelion

I picked a faded dandelion
And blew it in the air
It's tiny little parachutes
Went floating everywhere.

They caught the wind
And danced awhile
Bending to and fro
In splendid ballerina style.

Finally as the wind grew still
They floated back to earth
And bedded in the dark warm soil
To start their new rebirth.

When next summer comes
And dandelions are everywhere
I'll pick another faded flower
And blow it in the air.

Imagine

The look of wonderment etched on his face
When he first held me close, me all wrapped in lace.

Me, a curly head toddler not more than two
My hand in his hand, this man dressed in blue.

My first day at school as he kissed me goodby
Whispering, "you're daddy's big girl, so don't you cry."

My first baseball game, the proud look on his face
When I hit that ball hard and ran to third base.

A warm fire burning, a child wanting to share
Climbing up in his lap as he sat in his chair.

My arm in his arm, me, all dressed in white
As we walked down the aisle, he whispered, "you'll be alright."

Him, right there beside me, tightly holding my hand
Watching his first grandchild enter this land.

Me, like everyone else; I tried but it wasn't my style
Cause I grew up being a fatherless child.

A Wonderland Was Made

Swiftly invading the blue-grey sky and giving birth to a chilling wind
Were clouds of fury, nimbostratus by name.
First the freezing rain and then the snow came.

Footprints quickly camouflaged by snow as the wind circled and swirled around
Producing giant flakes in urgent flight.
I tarried not for home that night.

Home gave way to moaning sounds and walls creaked in sheer dismay
As I hid under covers down filled and warm.
I fell asleep lulled by the storm.

Morning came with sunlight in abundance sparkling brightly on trees and fields
Where ice had formed and stayed.
As I had slept a wonderland was made.