blossom friends

I.

When God made friends

He must be thinking of flowers

with lovely colors and

splendid scents.

II.

Flowers grow from seeds

that sprout from the ground;

friendships abound

because of kind deeds.

III.

Flowers are pretty and

charming, too —

friends make days blue

a little sunny.

IV.

When God sowed seeds

Flowers grew…

me and you

among the weeds.

.

Ruth Mostrales

August 3, 2009

i miss you, looloo

I used to teach Korean children, and one of my favorite students is Looloo.  I kept this letter, and will be keeping it in my inbox as long as technology allows.  🙂

“Hello?    teacher?  this is looloo how are you? me?  i am fine…………    when i am come back home   i am happy……but that time i think about you and ather teachers.

i miss you     i want go there but my father do not like that.       i will explain about teachers.    and    i  going to  the good academy.    if you  did not teach me, i can not learn english there.

 thank you.  please do not for get me…. ”

I will never… TT

Fairytale

 

Fairytale

For P.L.

 

They used to amuse me —

My aunts and older female friends.

 

How they counted the

wrinkles around their eyes,

how they tried to hold back the

years from entering that

space, that ballroom

of theirs where all their

secret hopes and

fantasies of a princely visit

after compliance with a

royal decree,

glide.

 

Now, I wonder why Cinderella

needed to go through a fitting

into a rigid glass shoe

before she could be happy. 

I wonder why she had to

scrub floors before she could properly

prance on them with her prince.

I wonder why the fool

in all his wit and charm could not

recognize her while she played

Raggedy Ann.

 

Men amuse me more, now —

So I ask:  “How do you love someone

who lets a shoe decide?

How do you dance with him

who loves the princess

but not the servant?

 

For eventually, women will be Raggedy Anns,

one way or another.

I wonder if with such prince,

there is happy ever after.

 

August 1, 2009

August 14, 2009

 

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Spelling

Spelling

Spell the word “FRIEND”
With an -I- then an -E-.
A friend is a treasure
For you and for me.

Spell “recEIve” this way,
And always remember —
That our friendship is a gift
From our Maker.

Let’s keep our little secret
In the heart, where its
sweeter; and write it down
With love, and
Not letters!

 

Ruth Mostrales, April 2009

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strangers

dsc00173

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Strangers

(for Samuel)

 

 

His tales depicted to me in gouache,

some scenes from where he’s been.

The delicacies of his motherland

permeate from his very skin. 

The eyes that once winked at the

stars, as they peeped ‘tween rows of palms,

replayed to me a tableau

set on shores of lava swamps.

He didn’t hold a picture book,

or a screen on which to demonstrate

the grandeur of majestic slopes

where molten and air escaped.

The chance passenger studied him,

and saw a paradise;

but I had to smoke my lenses against

those hid from a stranger’s eyes.

I’ve never been to his native land,

but his stories animate

the charm and healthy intercourse

of his manner and its climate.

Perhaps his tanned complexion,

lives as a testimony,

that the fire which rises there,

is the same that’s scathing me.

Inebriated by his tales in a cup,

engulfed by his imagery —

I mirrored his portrayal,

with a touch of reverie…

I said:

(Like mine) your name is a story

of a thousand years ago,

your smile reflects the wondrous way

your mother shares her soul.

Your forehead, its protrusion,

shows you where you mustn’t go;

but today the compass favored

that out here we get to know

each other, dear stranger,

you brought your country here.

as though the waves that set you

free, has also swallowed me.

And the whispers of the seaside air

rehearsing your history, plays

the music that your virgins

sigh to their lovers by the sea.

But alas, as in the country

in your eyes, the day’s good to go,

and the waves in your horizon,

are more possessive than before.

The sun in old Hawaii, my friend,

is slowly setting now…

Goodbye! Oh dear sojourner,

hope we find that other town.

Ruth V. Mostrales

 

 

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Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.

I’d Rather

i’d rather have a friend wear

an evening star on his brow

a promise of love in his locket

and a pinch of sun when its cold

 

i’d rather wish he wore the blanket

of rejoicing and not of woe

and paint his summers gaily

with the colors of his soul

 

By:  Ruth Mostrales, November 2008

My Sister and Me

You fight with a sister over a candy bar

And she’ll never give it to you without a war

You sing with a sister though you honestly think

Her voice is not as good.

You sigh with a sister when she falls in love

You wish for her happiness from up above

You laugh with a sister over silly things

And giggle some more.

You cry with a sister when she packs her bags

To start her own journey, and then you hug

You wish she could stay but all you can do

Is wish she will never forget:

The fights and the squabbles and the stupid things

The hand-me-down dresses and childish sins

They’ll live on forever in my memory

Life with my sister and me.

 

Ruth Mostrales