Monday, May 18, 2015


Spring snow flurries of fluffy cottonwood seed packets,
Hitting windshield with high velocity of Midwest blizzard,
Like stars steaming past sci-fi spacecraft at Mach 7,
Swirling and twisting in mid-air, blanketing grassy hillocks, 
Accumulating in mounds of curbside snow banks,
Never melting but somehow dissipating over time.

Ann Beth Blake
(c) May 18, 2015

Monday, May 11, 2015


If only we could write symphonies,
A full-orchestra requiem and four-part choir
Would scarcely be sufficient to honor our friend:
Soaring arias, discordant harmonies to reflect our grief,
Wailing violins to wrench our tears and tear out our hearts,
Throbbing timpani drums to register our loss to the world,
Soulful piano solo, using all 88 keys, scales to communicate
The full spectrum of her life well and fully lived: WA and CA,
joy and sadness, together and apart, personal and professional.
If only we could paint portraits and landscapes,
Like the art gracing the walls in their home,
Replete with blues and reds, of course:
Our friend dressed to the nines in bright, colorful tops,
Nails and toes painted to match her outfit;
Blond, curly hair recently turned white,
Coifed and brushed to a sheen;
Crafted earrings and matching necklace,
Blue wedding ring and pinky ring to match her eyes.
Blue eyes ever sparking and sparkling,
Spontaneous smile easily erupting.

If only we could make an epic movie in which
A myriad of scenes echo the fullness of her life:
Flowers surround her in all colors of the rainbow;
Loving family and a bevy of friends flow in and out,
Reading, playing cards, tapping on drums, hiking,
Playing tennis, listening to music, cheering for teams;
Conversing deeply about our lives and our plans,
Conversing and laughing and crying and smiling.
If only we could have more time, more laughs,
More adventures, more conversations, more silences,
More meaningful glances, more of anything/everything
With our dear wife, mother, grandmother,
Great-grandmother, aunt, friend, nurse, teacher.
Our friend's legacy lives on in lives and communities.
She is with us always, as we are with her always.
We grieve and celebrate from now until forever.
Ann Blake
May 1, 2015


Life well lived, fully loved.

Now drifting down the river
Toward the other shore,
Around the next bend.

Friends waiting on the beach,
Giving space to the family.

Scarcely daring to breathe
Lest we rock the boat,
Which approaches the 
Crossing, the last portage.

So deeply loved and cherished.

We yearn for every lingering moment,
Yet desperately hope for her peace.

Bon Voyage, Dear Friend. 
Save space in the boat 
For all of us to join you.

Ann Beth Blake
(c) April 23, 2015