Linda Yates Cashiers, North Carolina

Linda Yates was born in St. Louis, Missouri, where she spent her early life. Her mother, June Crowder Armstrong, was a gifted artist and speaker, and her father, Bob Jerrue, was a talented badminton/tennis player and teacher. Linda is an entrepreneur whose businesses include Nutrition and Communication. Linda graduated from Auburn University with a B.S. in Business Administration and a Master's in Vocational and Adult Education. Her poetry has been published in The Auburn Circle, The Chattahoochee Review, and by The National Library of Poetry. Linda is married to Alan Porter Yates and has four children: Cathryn, Heather, Christopher and Sean. Linda says, "Writing poetry provides the opportunity to share life's experiences with others in the hope that expressing one's thoughts might help someone else."

Max's Morning Walk Bouncing and pouncing -- jump to and fro -- Straining at leash and so eager to go! Racing at first down the shady, damp street. Straining to keep up with fast-flying feet, the feathery brush of a delicate breeze On my face, and the greenness of ancient oak trees, Stopping here, stopping there, where others have been, Walking now quick, darting out, darting in, Pausing to leave his unique "calling card," Alert for all others, always on guard. Slowing now, sniffing the morning's sweet scent, Strolling, now prancing, with head smartly bent, Returning more calmly to welcoming door Settling by master's chair, happy once more.

The Gift of Life Did you ever give thanks for the gift of your life? As a child, a teenager, a mother or wife? Did the pride in the eyes of your mother or son Make you glad you'd accomplished whatever you'd done? Remember the summers you relaxed by the pool? Did your family all come when you finished high school? Have tears of defeat made you alter your way? Was triumph so sweet when you carried the day? Was the love of your husband or wife a sweet gift? Did your friend just drop in when you needed a lift? Could a baby's laugh make you forget all your woes As you counted his fingers or tickled her toes? Did you notice your tears when they hoisted Old Glory? Or, when tales of oppression came alive in history? Did your courage desert you when grief made you numb, When someone you loved in death's grip must succumb? Does your heart sing at sunrise with hope for each day, And the beauty of dusk give you peace when you pray? It's these gifts we all share in the family of man, But they're only a part of an infinite plan.

Dark Beauty What thoughts are revolving in that pretty head Silent, observing, with nought being said? Dark eyes that mask intellectual feats Musing, amusing, emotional treats! What was it her nursery school teacher did quip? "She hasn't decided she wants part of this trip." Darkness not always means sadness or grief-- Sometimes it's coolness, a blessed relief From intensity, with all its incessant demands. A grateful repose can be seen in her hands, Soft-spoken and careful, slow to condemn Her voice has a lilt, and her slow smile's a gem. The tone of her darkness only enhances, Her grace has no limit; her bright wit entrances. Her litheness, her softness, and elegant breeding Are felt as she moves through life, easily leading. What secrets lie under that pleasant aplomb From where does that effortless confidence come? Perhaps from a wellspring of infinite love From her mother and father and heaven above!

All poems Copyright © 1996 Linda Yates. All rightsreserved.