“My Favorite Hobby”

A poem by Suzette Franck

I crochet ponchos, blankets and hats.
It is what I call… ‘productive rest time’ – instead of naps.
Repeating numbers in my head,
Over and over, with each twist of my thread
It is not easy feat, one could say;
A bounty of movement for one double crochet:
Yarn over, insert hook, yarn over, pull through, yarn over, pull through two, yarn over, pull through 2 more! 
My thumb joint aches but I’ll spare you the gore;
I’m always losing my place and re-counting my stitches,
But soon I’ll have a new poncho, a bounty of riches!


“My Vacation”

A poem by Suzette Franck

Camping at the lake we did not do
We went to the beach instead, it was nice and blue.
It was the hottest week of the year,
With no air conditioning, I did fear;
But kept cool inside crocheting all day
Maybe next time, we’ll get away.
Resting, enjoying the peace and the quiet.
The ice cream consumed was not on my diet.

I made it a point to unplug from devices.
What did I have left, just a couple of vices:
Diet Coke and nicotine mints,
Watch Youtube, crochet, repeat and rinse,
Those are my nasty habits
At least I don’t raise stinky rabbits!
I do have a cat, she’s my favorite brat.

And my little red Honda Fit with a flat tire.
It’s ok, though, no reason to catch fire!
Embedded in rubber, two sharp nails… 
Oops again, I ran over some curbs and rails.
The price was one-sixty, when I’m trying to be thrifty!
The cost of everything has got me aghast;
It’s hard to even afford regular food and gas!
But I still have a job, so I can buy corn on the cob.

I’m grateful for the life I’m livin’,
I do the best I can with what I’ve been given.
And I’ll definitely remember this:
When on vacation, you can have bliss,
Even though your plans fail.
I have a life and I’m not in jail,
My health is fine and I feel alive…
Life is pretty good here in my little hive.


“Art is Passion Gallery”

A poem by Suzette Franck

Rider of the Waves,
Artist, Painter of Canvases,
Player with Yarn at the Art is Passion Gallery;
Creativity, Good Vibes, Oasis
They tell me you are peaceful and I believe them, for I have seen the sun dripping down below the plaza with silhouetted boats resting in the harbor.
And they tell me you are vital and I answer: Yes, it is true, I have heard the seals barking out as we eavesdrop on their musical chit-chats.
And they tell me you are healing and my reply is yes, through the moist sunny air I have felt the bad energy leave,
And having answered so, I turn once more to those who may not visit the gallery, and I give them back a wink and say to them:
Come and show me another gallery with such optimism and beauty so situated along the waters that run up to kiss the edge of the sand,
With so many familiar as well as new faces, all looking for a diversion to the harsh reality of today’s chaotic world amongst the inspirational walls
Constant as the sun shining down and casting its light on everything it touches, Awe inspiring  as the colorful shapes held silent and still within each frame.
Gluing,
Painting,
Glittering,
Sharing,
Building, Crafting, Perfecting,
Drinking wine and White Claw, glitter and glue on their hands, laughing with a sparkle in their eye,
Under the cheers and whoots from excited humans having a good time and encouraging each other
Sharing the companionship of lovely gentle souls gathered together to explore their creativity
Getting out about Ventura and enjoying fellow humans and learning new techniques and self-expressions….
Beaming!
Beaming with pride over the crafts they’ve made, poetry they’ve heard, and prizes they’ve won at Bingo,
Creative, good vibes, oasis. Rider of Waves, Crafter, Painter of Canvases, Player with Yarn at the Art is Passion Gallery!

“Art is Passion Gallery” poem by Suzette Franck is a copy change of the poem “Chicago” by Carl Sandburg


“Brand New Day”

A poem by Suzette Franck


I wanted to be cool,
Cooler then I was in school
But I could not find my own inspiration
Instead I had night sweats and perspiration.
I’m stuck in my head,
Will I soon be dead?
I have all of these aches and pains,
I can’t remember where I left my brains.
My thumb is stiff when I crochet.
My hair is thinning and flyaway.
My skin is old and wrinkled…
But a spark in my eye still twinkled!
I’m getting tired, is it that time of day?
Focus now, and don’t you dare stray.
The days seems shorter as time goes by
yarn, bongos, poetry, hula are things to try
There is so much I want to do
Painting rocks with colors of every hue
But I lived in the time before the Internet
Days at the library I will never forget
When old phones had cords and dials
I walked and rode bikes over miles and miles
I was the TV remote for my Dad
There was no YouTube, it was pretty bad;
With only four lousy channels.
Our living room had ugly wood panels.
There was one TV, not two or three.
It was a simpler time, can’t you see?
Video games hadn’t been invented.
Cartoons were racist and demented.
We played outside but stayed away from the street.
Slip n slide and water weenies were always a treat.
There was no COVID, masks, or global fear.
As I gaze pondering at myself in a mirror
What will the next chapter bring?
Que sera sera, but curiosity is king
I have no kids and my mom is dead
Roses on her gravestone are deep and red
I miss her everyday
My hair… like hers, now turned gray
One day we’ll be reunited
In heaven we’ll all be delighted
But until then,
It will be my trend
Trying different things
with yarn and strings
And learning many skills
Don’t worry about me, I’ll take my pills
And hold on to life and all its joys
I like the silence and I like the noise
The good and the bad, everything I’ve ever had
It’s all precious to me
So much to know and learn,
As vast as the ocean and all its churns
The Universe has been good to me
And because of this my mind is free
Everything has value and I love it that way
As I patiently wait for the Brand New Day.