Monica Jones

Strong City, Kansas

Monica has been writing poetry since she was in high school. She is a certified massage therapist. She also holds a certification in dental assisting and is a part-time instructor at the Flint Hills Technical College. Monica continues to seek educational goals as a student at Emporia State University where she is working on her bachelor's degree in Business Administration. She has had her writings published by The National Library of Poetry Her writings are often inspired by her friends and family. She says "Writing poetry allows me to find justification for the world in which we live in."

Home

I grew up in south Chase County.
I had no idea what life was like outside
the haven of my parents home.
I had never known the struggles they had gone through
until I ventured out on my own.

Mother always spread a table of plenty
on a non existent budget.
Seven children of their own to clothe & feed,
but always willing to help others that were in need.

Two of my mother's brothers were taken in under her wing
Later, her youngest sisters came to be a part of the siblings
Laughter was a frequent sound, an occasional scuffle, too.
A three bedroom house that sheltered like that nursery rhyme shoe.

Memories were built in that little shack,
and once a month we all go back
To the haven in the Flint Hills for mama's best pan fried.
Where my daddy drew water, and grandaddy died.

The grand kids crawl on their laps for a hug or a kiss
I can't imagine life without all of this.
They still work sun up to sun down
they just won't leave that hill out there and move to town.

The faces have aged and some have passed on
but we will reunite there for just as long
as there is a breath in the chest of that house
For there is no greater home than that little shell,
Where we all shared laughter and were loved so well.

Nature's Lullaby

I sit beneath a shady tree
and listen to the nature sounds that call to me.
Cicadas sing their humming song
as a hoot and harmonizes along.

The symphony displays virtuoso tones
Lulling to a quiet pianissimo in their drone.
Crescendoing back to loud again
each creature singing solo in this refrain.

Butterflies waft upon the air
Conductors in flight out there.
Flapping their wings like batons
Encouraging this cacaphon to go on.

The evening sky paints the scene
As the trees stand tall with their heads of green
Whispering the hush of wind's delight
before all nature quiets for the night.

The Rose

A single bud in a sheaf of green,
The most beautiful flower I've ever seen.
A message of friendship, a strengthening bond.
A quiet courage in the velvet petals, her silent song.
When its life has drained away
I will hold the memory.
As we make the journey along this road.
The way will be lightened by this single rose.

September 1, 1995
A gift form Peter Schantz