Ordinary and Other Poems

By Virginia Riedman-Dangler

Ordinary

“You can find something truly

important in an ordinary minute.”

Mitch Albom

It seemed like an ordinary day,
and yet an array of things
brought me unexpected joy
as if watching a child
with a new toy.

There was laundry to sort,
and cloths to fold,
dishes to clean
while deciding where to plant
the marigolds
in   between   the   magnolias,

and then to the store
to buy milk and bread
or was it a head
of lettuce?

I can’t remember
because it was just an ordinary day-

with mail to read, and then calls
to make,
leaves to rake
and for God’s sake
can’t forget to take
the garbage to the curb.

There was dinner to prepare,
evening news to watch,
and an invigorating walk
around the block.

Yet, amidst this day
of seemingly dull events
I was wrapped in warm content
with welcomed, inspiring realizations

Like may-be, just maybe
the sacred is found
in the ordinary.

And so maybe, just maybe
this was not
that ordinary of a day
after all.

Until Next Year

From north to south,
it is always the sound of what is to come
this time of year.

Can you see the shape
created by their energy,
and loyalty to each other?

See, they are protective
of their place in the sky.

Every year with predictability,
the geese welcome a new season
along with their cries of good-bye
to the old-

Until next year.

Home on Post Avenue

In memory of my grandmother Helen (Dixon) Riedman (1893-1964)

Gone is the joy 
that once filled my rooms
like twinkling stars in the night sky.

How I smiled as tiny feet
raced up my stairs,
stairs dressed in oriental designs,
hearing the music of a piano
with lyrics of dreams and hopes,
and listening to the giggling glee  
of young children.

Children,
full of wonder at the bright red
wind up toy they eagerly raced for,
nestled in the end table drawer,
the table dressed with a delicate doily.

Children
full of trust as they climbed upon laps
and laughed,
and laughed,
and laughed.

Yet time has taken them, 
but the memories still remain with the woman,
and the doilies that once adorned my rooms
are now with her.

And their scent carrying a legacy
of warmth and kindness to be shared
when her doors open, and welcome tiny feet.

Acceptance

I walked down to the small lake.
I was told there were lounge chairs,
and hammocks to relax in.

I walked over to what I thought
was the perfect, positioned hammock
facing the water under the summer sun,
only to be disappointed 
to see an art pad.
This hammock was taken.

The only hammock available for me
was one that was dingy, but doable.

As I lay down and gazed up
I realized I was lying under a bounty of beauty.
I was gazing into a world of green leaves-
some still,
others dancing in the breeze.

Bits of blue sky peeking
through outstretched branches,
and the shimmering sun
crowning the top.

Resting in my awe 
I watched as a bird,
ever so gently, 
flew to its nest to rest
where two branches met.

Virginia Riedman-Dangler is a retired elementary school teacher and counselor. She has been writing poetry for awhile now, having taken a variety of poetry writing workshops over the years. Currently Riedman-Dangler is in the process of creating her first chap book Seasons of the Heart.