Remembering Dad on his birthday

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years
have passed
saw you last
still have tears
the space you left was vast
today we’re remembering you
memories still in our hearts as we grew
had you were here we’d celebrate it with our cheers
we miss your voice, your cooking, that is true
your kindness, your belly, that, too
it could still be a blast
for what was due
love the past
went fast
cheers!

(c) ladyleemanila 2016

For: Thank God, It’s Monday! — Week of November 14th 2016

Also for: 30 Days of Thankfulness: Day 14, Tell Me Something Good #31

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Flames – Daily Prompt

Jessamine

As the flames leapt skyward
Farewell our Jessamine, farewell
We closed our eyes and sighed
Gone but not disremembered
Your memories lingered on
The happiness you gave us
In that brief time you were here
We’d treasure every moment
Perhaps you left some legacy
Legacy of faith, love and fun
Life is short and must use it well
Rest in peace, our darling Jessamine

For: Flames

Other “flames” posts:
Flames #DailyPrompt
https://inkdropblog.wordpress.com/2016/11/12/flames/
https://rajkrishna88.wordpress.com/2016/11/12/a-planet-called-earth/
https://annapurani93.wordpress.com/2016/11/12/flames/

30 Days of Thankfulness: Day 11

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Freedom by Helen Hunt Jackson

What freeman knoweth freedom? Never he
Whose father’s father through long lives have reigned
O’er kingdoms which mere heritage attained.
Though from his youth to age he roam as free
As winds, he dreams not freedom’s ecstacy.
But he whose birth was in a nation chained
For centuries; where every breath was drained
From breasts of slaves which knew not there could be
Such thing as freedom,–he beholds the light
Burst, dazzling; though the glory blind his sight
He knows the joy. Fools laugh because he reels
And weilds confusedly his infant will;
The wise man watching with a heart that feels
Says: “Cure for freedom’s harms is freedom still.”

What are you thankful for today?

I am thankful for freedom and for all the men and women who fought for our freedom.

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How do we remember the men we’ve lost?
How can we tell them they’re still being missed?
That every day, especially on this crisp autumn day
Their memories still linger and they’re not forgotten
That what they’ve done are truly appreciated
Would wearing poppies and lighting candles do?

Lest we forget, lest we forget

Men of valour and courage going to war
Every generation, there are some reasons
Of why men waged wars against each other
We send them there, some still boys and girls
Not knowing whether they’d still come back
The experience they’ve got, we don’t really know
And when they come back, are they still whole?
Our heroes, our loved ones, their sacrifices

Lest we forget, lest we forget

And so we remember them
We appreciate what they’ve done
To our countries and to our freedom
Wars are ugly, wars are unfair and wars are ruthless
But then they are necessary sometimes
Let’s just hope that peace and understanding come

Lest we forget, lest we forget

(c) ladyleemanila 2016

For: 30 Days of Thankfulness: Day 11

Candle – Daily Prompt

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How do we remember the men we’ve lost?
How can we tell them they’re still being missed?
That every day, especially on this crisp autumn day
Their memories still linger and they’re not forgotten
That what they’ve done are truly appreciated
Would wearing poppies and lighting candles do?

Lest we forget, lest we forget

Men of valour and courage going to war
Every generation, there are some reasons
Of why men waged wars against each other
We send them there, some still boys and girls
Not knowing whether they’d still come back
The experience they’ve got, we don’t really know
And when they come back, are they still whole?
Our heroes, our loved ones, their sacrifices

Lest we forget, lest we forget

And so we remember them
We appreciate what they’ve done
To our countries and to our freedom
Wars are ugly, wars are unfair and wars are ruthless
But then they are necessary sometimes
Let’s just hope that peace and understanding come

Lest we forget, lest we forget

For: Candle

Other “candle” posts:
https://scribbledbym.wordpress.com/2016/10/14/melting-away/
https://thegratefuldeadblog.wordpress.com/2016/10/14/light-of-his-life/

Candle

https://asunkenthought.wordpress.com/2016/10/14/jack-be-nimble/
The Candle Light

B&P’s Shadorma & Beyond – Autumn Rain by DH Lawrence – October 1, 2016

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autumn cry
dark clouds on the sky
blood and tears
of sorrow
men fighting for our freedom
remembering them

falling rain
echoes of autumn
fields of men
sheaves of pain
in their bravery and nerve
falling one by one

(c) ladyleemanila 2016

For: B&P’s Shadorma & Beyond – Autumn Rain by DH Lawrence – October 1, 2016

Inang’s Sewing Machine

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PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

The photo prompt made me remember my Dad’s mother, “Inang” which is a Tagalog word for mother (could also be a dialect from their province, Bulacan). My Dad’s father, “Amang” died during the Japanese occupation and left a young wife and two children, my father who was 5 and my Aunt, who was three. Inang managed that by sewing clothes for people, she first worked in a clothes factory and then did it privately. Inang worked days and nights so they could survived. I remembered Inang and her old sewing machine. She sewed our school uniforms. Bless her soul.

For: Friday Fictioneers by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

I miss you

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The hour is ticking
The moon in a mist
Got to keep asking
Where’s the moonlight tryst?

Trim the stem
You’re not here
Am I condemned?
Feeling’s so queer

I miss you dearly
My head is spinning
I beg of thee
Please don’t fling

Can’t get over it
As I look at your prints
I’m turning half-wit
Give me a hint

I cringe from memories
I can’t lift my spirit
How can I be appeased?
When I run in circuit

Living without you
I’ve had my chips
My life is through
Can’t come to grips

(c) ladyleemanila 2016

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For: Writing Prompt #173 “Collage 28” and Wordle 262 Aug 21 by Brenda Warren

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Youth – Daily Prompt

We all have them. Our childhood memories – the innocence of youth. The time when we just played or messed around, when we had to go to school or play in the street. When we were free of responsibilities and worries. We remembered our games, our playground, our playmates, the laughter, falling out with some of them but being friends again after 10 minutes and most of all, the fun.

And then they were gone. We were playing hide and seek and I was “it”. I closed my eyes, counted up to a hundred, opened my eyes and said: “here I come, ready or not.” I searched for them high and low, wondering where they could be. I first saw Beth, hiding behind the bush, then Venus and Janet chattering away, so I followed their voices. Soon I was able to pinpoint where they were hiding and the next “it” had to look for us. Before long we had to go back to our houses and ate our dinner. Other days, we’d play patintero (try to cross my line without letting me touch or catch you), tumbang preso (hit the can), piko (hopscotch) or luksong-tinik (lit. jump over the thorns of a plant). Sometimes we’d rent some bikes and circled around our neighbourhood.

One, two, three, you’re “it”
The innocence of childhood
Youthful memories

Easter Breaks. The only time of the year when all of us cousins stayed in our Granddad’s house. The number of times we walked back and forth the house and the chapel for singing the passion plays. The afternoons we spent splashing in that creek while Granddad washed the carabao, the still warm fresh milk that morning and the mangoes we’ve picked on the way to the farm. We all slept on the floor, some snoring, some talking, and telling each other’s stories, jokes and secrets.

Dad and Tito (uncle) Pabling. They were more than brothers. They’d spent hours and hours tinkering with Tito Pabling’s recently acquired old jeepney. Just like good mechanics, they’d come home with all those black smuts from the engine. Sometimes, they’d spent their afternoons unblocking the canal in our street. They were the best hosts, too – the New Year’s Day party was always a blast – all our relatives, friends, neighbours and everyone on Halcon Street would’ve confirmed that – we had to close the street for our party!

Dapitan. Our house in Dapitan was small – for our parents, 4 children, Granny, aunts and cousins. It was constantly full of people and activities. Our cousins from the province stayed with us once they started college. There were 2 bedrooms, one for our parents and one for all of us with 2 bunk beds; the rest slept on the floor. My classmates and I loved hanging out there; doing our homework and projects; lunch and merienda (snacks) were at all times provided. When I needed to concentrate at college, I’d wake up in the middle of the night to revise or just to have some peace and quiet.

One of the earliest memories I had was the time when my sister was born. I was three, my big brother was four and we were waiting in the other room, my father was pacing up and down. Until we heard the midwife (my aunt) said: “it’s a girl!” We all rushed in the room, we saw some blood and the baby crying and my mom was on the floor. My aunt told us to “go away, we’re not ready yet.”

My sister was born
My brother and I waited
Then we heard her cry

Another memory was when our youngest brother was born, I was ten by this time and when we saw him, I thought he was the most gorgeous baby in the world. He had this massive black hair and his skin was all red, his eyes sparkling like diamonds, probably from crying. We knew we’ve got to spoil this kid.

Gorgeous baby
Eyes sparkling like diamonds
Our youngest brother

For: Youth

Other “youth” posts:
Daily Prompt: The Youth of days gone by
https://impossiblebebong.wordpress.com/2016/08/20/youth/
https://saturinskies.wordpress.com/2016/08/20/we-always-want-what-we-dont-have/
Meeting Myself
https://nonsmokingladybug.wordpress.com/2016/08/20/to-hell%e2%80%8b-my-love-with-you/