The Wind Beneath My Wings

My brother, Ronnie was a free lance writer. He wrote a variety of things in his lifetime from local articles to national magazines. He also wrote poems and was working on a novel at the time of his death. He was one of those persons who was so smart that at times he was scary. I fell in his shadow a lot, but I was always content to be there as I was so proud of him. We were always as close as two peas in a pod though there was seven years in our age difference. He looked out for me all his life, I think in part because Dad chose to leave when I was only two weeks old, never to return.

When Ronnie died it almost killed me. I had always written poems and journals but nothing seriously. After his death I started writing in earnest. I think it was partly to feel close to his memory and also to make him proud.

I published a poetry collection last year and have recently had a couple of poems published in anthologies. I have also been entering contests. Today I received notice that I had won first place in one of the categories of the Writers Unlimited Mississippi Poetry Society, South Branch 40th Literary Competition, for a short story I wrote and 1st Honorable Mention for a sonnet called "Winter Moon". I was so excited and happy but all I could think about was wanting to tell Ronnie. I could almost feel him smiling today and it made for a sweet Thanksgiving.

I am so thankful that I had a brother and family that always supported me what ever crazy thing I did. But there was no one like my big brother! He truly was (and is) "the wind beneath my wings". I will always love you and thank you for the gift you have given me to see life with curiosity and a smile.

So Ronnie, this one is for you!

True Friends Have Fur

True friends have fur, four feet, cold noses,

and tails that wag faster than a NASA rocket.

True friends come in rainbow colors,

are different shapes and sizes and personalities.

True friends have deep wrinkles, bright smiles,

and more love in one paw than most of the known world.

Some can also speak!

True friends love you no matter what . . .

They lay a quiet head in your lap when you are sad.

Snuggle up to your back on a cold night.

Share leftover pizza and bring you presents from your yard.

True friends play Frisbee and ball with style, grace and high jumps.

Warn you when you are in danger, and protect you from

anyone who would do you harm.

Yes, true friends have fur and

are usually a cut above people friends.

I love my friends with fur.

From: Life in the Pond, A Collection of Poetry by Joyce Burns

© Joyce (Tidwell) Burns, ChynaMoon Creations 1997-2011

The Path Home

One of my computer art projects. I call it The Path Home.

© Joyce (Tidwell) Burns, ChynaMoon Creations 1997-2011





Exasperation

My mind

is locked tight as a drum

for I can’t stand

one more

ounce

of your insanity today.

How

can you be so blind

to all that is around you?

You

close your eyes,

ears and heart so

tightly,

it’s a wonder

you don’t explode

in a fiery

heap.

What you call

stubborn

is actually

blatant

stupidity,

as you

close yourself

to the thing you want

most!

Sometimes,

my best answer for you

Is no

answer.



Lochinvar

South of Pontotoc, Ms. is a piece of history that over the years has become a legend. There, nestled on a ridge is a beautiful old antebellum home called Lochinvar. It is currently owned by doctors, Forrest Tutor and his lovely wife Janice and they have lovingly become her caretakers and family.

The history of Lochinvar is amazing and can be traced all the way back to Scotland to the Gordon family of castle Lochinvar. The Gordons were very wealthy land owners and after coming to the United States this branch of the family continued to build wealth taking over land that had once been owned by the Chickasaw Indians. This territory became what is currently North Mississippi.

Lochinvar was built for Robert Gordon's young wife, Mary Elizabeth, and no expense was spared. Later when war came, Lochinvar survived the Civil War because of a kindness by their son, Colonel James Gordon and many years later Lochinvar survived an F4 tornado because of the love so many had for her. This time love of the community and the Tutors would come to her rescue, when common sense was screaming bring in the bull doziers.

I was privledged to listen to Dr.Tutor talk about his beloved Lochinvar for almost two hours last week at our local Historical and Geneaology meeting. He even mentioned her ghosts. My tiny blurb here doesn't scratch the surface on the history and stories Lochinvar has to offer. But if you want to know more about one of the most interesting places in the state of Mississippi, I suggest you research and read all about this wonderful lady.

Here's a link to a wonderful book Dr. Tutor has written about his amazing home and her history. I promise you will be both amazed and delighted. http://www.gordonsoflochinvar.com/

About My Friend

I am surely not the best person to write this post as there were many who were much more suited, much better with words and much closer to Raymond. I wasn't in the daily, inner-circle but he was one of my co-worker family at NMMC and a friend, and was always kind to me, so I will simply speak from my heart from my point of view.

 

I have nothing but love and total respect for all the Emergency personnel in our lives. They work long, tiring hours away from their homes and families for little pay and are always the first on the scene to pull you out of some crazy mess that has endangered your life. Medical folks are constantly bombarded by life and death and all that lies between. If you work in the medical field in any aspect, you get it. If not you may never understand  the thing that drives these folks. It is 100% pure heart. They care until they bleed. It's a calling. And they are special angels.

 

Raymond had it. Raymond got it and he did it well ! And he did it for many, many years. He helped save many lives, earned the respect of his coworkers and as someone has already said, made many friends along the way. Raymond was witty and could make you smile when you just plain didn't want too. He was compassionate. He loved his job. He loved his family and his dear friends. And he was no doubt a music man.  

The thing is. When you look around today as you are celebrating his life and are missing that crazy mug, see the huge crowd of people who are honoring him today and take in the enormity of all the lives he has touched. This is a true testament to who Raymond Steele was (and is today in heaven). He was a good man, a good friend, and he was and is loved. In knowing him you have been a part of something special on this Earth.

Remember Raymond in all the ways you shared his friendship and keep his warm memory in the pocket of your heart. Rest in peace my friend.

Shadow Thoughts

Swirling mists,

and deep,

dark

shadows.

Shadows

that aren’t shadows at all

but appear

with familiar hazy forms,

hiding in corners

of quiet rooms,

waiting

 with long

ghostly fingers

for

unsuspecting

victims.

Whispery,

quiet voices

that rasp or giggle,

a tap on the shoulder

or sometimes

a deep throaty growl

in pitch blackness.

Yet I,

seek to know the answers,

of why you are here,

seek to find

where you have gone,

to find those who

have gone before,

and those still

with stories to tell.

But be careful

of what you seek in the

eerie, unnerving silence

for you may find

that curiosity

is a devouring

lover.

© Joyce (Tidwell) Burns, ChynaMoon Creations 1997-2011