Memories of Snow

Bio

1
Bio for Grammar Garden
Date 2018

Hello, Apprentice Gardeners. My name is Neva, which means Snow. You may call me, Neva. I am 70 years young, and live in Las Vegas, Nevada. I was born in Blackwell, Oklahoma. I graduated from high school in Shawnee, Oklahoma, from college in Las Vegas, Nevada, and got my Masters degree online.

I have held several different jobs throughout my life. When I was younger I worked as a waitress. While I was going to college, I worked in a computer lab at the Southern Nevada Community College. From 2007 to 2012, I was my mother's caregiver. I had to get out of the workforce in 2009 when she was officially diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease.

I enjoy reading, writing, taking surveys, and playing computer games such as mahjong. Right now I am working on a group of spiritual poems dedicated to the Blessed Beauty. I post those in "Bicentenary Poems and Prose" , which is dedicated to the two hundredth birthdays of Baha'u'llah and The Bab

I decided to take the Grammar Garden because I need to review what I know about grammar. I think this class will give me more confidence in my use of grammar. I also want to keep my mind learning because that is one way to prevent or, at least, delay Alzheimer's disease.

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My Own Voice

My own voice
recorded on the endlessly looping cassette
of the answering machine sounds strange to me.

This is not
the voice my ears
hear when I s peak.

It is an
alien voice that repeats
my words each time the phone rings.

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Blues Poem:
My First Attempt

Reflecting the whiteness of winter's snow,
The awful whiteness of winter's deadly snow,
High cloud conceal summer's beautiful glow.

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Spring Memory

A bit of wind and a little rain
leaves my car windows stained
with blowing dust and the pollen of spring.

5
To My Abuser

Those nights you came into my room:
Using fear to satisfy;
Using ridicule to control;
What did you do to my soul?

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13 Azamat 166 B.E.

The goal is living
the life for Baha'u'llah
transformative love.

7
Cat Memory

I saw a yellow cat today,
the image of my Lion,
and memories flooded my mind
of the kitten that road on my shoulder
and the cat that died in my lap.

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Fusion

Peach-mango slurpee
fusion of favorite taste
cool optimism

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16 Azamat 166 B.E.

Giving up my dream
helplessness becomes the shroud
that bruises my joy.

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17 Azamat 166 B.E.

Soft breeze whispering
my mother's voice echoes through
the boughs of my soul.

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Programmed

Programmed for failure,
to depend on another human being
for happiness.

Programmed to depend
on another speck of matter
for fulfillment ... self-worth.

My programming can't change
until I choose to step beyond
my program's limits.

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18 Azamat 166 B.E.

Words don't come
to my soul's tongue
weariness ensues.

13
Winter Sunset

The sun
over my left shoulder
sheds its bright rays
on the damp ground.

The western clouds
have ripped apart,
leaving a gash of blue
between two jagged gray boarders.

A remnant of blue,
that the sun blocks
with its descent.

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