Saturday, June 5, 2010

Wife to Husband (Inspired by Langston Hughes's Poem, "Mother to Son")






Well, honey, I'll tell you:
Life with you is a Sunday afternoon drive.
There have been endless blue skies,
long talks, lots of laughs,
shared dreams,
and wishes fulfilled.
Smooth ride.

Now, there have been bumps in the road
and close calls.
There have been occasional potholes
and sudden storms.
But we kept driving nonetheless -
our eyes fixed on the road up ahead,
treasuring each milestone,
Perseverance.

There have been pit stops.
We've refueled along the way.
We've even added two passengers
with bright smiles and pink church dresses.
Complete.

Our destination
remains to be seen.
But with you as the driver,
I feel hope, I feel anticipation, I feel contentment -
I feel love.
Life with you truly  is a Sunday afternoon drive.

2002

Two Hearts (Draft)

Two pure hearts imploring Love,
      Correction,
      Guidance,
      Truth.

Responsibilities of a mother.

Dreams yet realized
Prayers yet answered
As tiny moments slip away and children grow.

Time refuses to wait for her
As she immerses herself in a memories that she will not and
cannot
Forget.

A smile, a laugh, a tear. 
Looking upon angelic sleeping forms
And wondering,
     Will they stray?
     Will they falter?
    
As these young hearts leave the haven of a mother's arms,
hope and wonder plant their seeds. 

1997

Shades of Pink (Color Poem Revisited)

Carmine Sunday dresses
Ruby cheeks and cherry smiles
Innocence and youth

Prom gown garnished with a scarlet carnation
"Don't stay out too late!"
Crimson woman

Vermillion flowers, a trailing bow
Making way to a man of God
       and a man in love
Fuschsia devotion embellished in passion


Swollen flushed belly
Carrying a tiny pink form
Shouts of hot pain
Glorious crying gift

Nursery, tiny socks, small moments
Smells of infancy
A pastel room
Little rosy girls

Strawberry blond hair
Tea parties, lipstick, first dates
A mother's blushing pride
Growing up too fast

Pallid, needing color
Aged
Shocking coral cheeks, longing  for
      the colors of youth

2002

The Orange Canvas (A Nocturne)

The orange canvas caresses the canyon
      as milky clouds fade into oblivion

The soft winds serenade the warm
     blackberries asleep on their thicket
and the fragrant junipers
     sprawl lazily on their earthen bed

The raspy raven welcomes the
    approaching nightfall
as the placid pool eagerly awaits
    the thirsty visitors of  the night

2009

Pink (A Color Poem)

Innocence, youth, Sunday dresses
Prom gown with carnation
"Don't stay out too late!"
Crimson woman

Pink flowers, a trailing bow
Making way to a man of God
Fushia love embellished in passion

Swollen flushed belly
Carrying a tiny pink form
Shouts of hot pain
Glorious crying gift

Nursery, tiny socks, small movements
Smells of infancy
Little rosy girls
Crispy white curtains, a pastel room

Pallid, needing color
Aged, artificial and shocking coral cheeks
Longing for the color of youth

2001

Roller Skates

Merri-Go-Round Skating Rink
Surrounded by friends adorned in
Members Only jackets and leg warmers

Michael Jackson, Prince, Eagles, and Boston
Sounds of my youth blaring under the glar of disco lights

We skate, gliding
Lost sheep to home
To the boggedy-beat
Under the limbo cane.

2002

A Soldier's Battle

Gray skies drape the crimson field
Moans for a mother miles away
Tragedy masked under billowing
      silver
                 clouds
Loneliness spirals in
ringlets of
                 despair
Hope surges as pain
      slips
                 away
A new dawn draws closer as
Grief gives way to
survival

2009

My Husband Who

My husband who
is a gentle and quiet soul
has eyes that reveal a crystal blue truth
once had hair the color of cotton

asks little in return
is my rock
is my shelter

worries about the future
tells me I'm beautiful
and tenderly strokes my back at the end
of each day

can't stop worrying about "his girls"
is a devoted father
gives me hope

doesn't like doing dishes
is tall and strong
loves Bama and The Bear

after twenty years, still makes my skin
tingle upon his touch
makes my life whole and complete



2007

Flat Tire in the Morn (Haiku)

Flat Tire in morn
Trip to smelly car garage
Feels like a Monday

2007

I Am (or I'm Not) - Take 2

I am Mrs. Shields.
My parents were hippies during the 60’s.
My dad once had a pet crocodile that lived in the bathtub.
I was in the Mardi Gra parade and left with a zillion beads.
I love to listen to bluegrass music because it soothes the soul.
I once broke my butt bone jumping out of a window.
I dated John Stamos from Full House when I was in college.
I got kicked out of math class in the 8th grade for cheating.
I can stand on my head for thirty minutes.
My cheerleaders once threw me in a basket toss in my pool at 11:00 at night.
My husband was chewing grape bubble gum when I first met him.
I almost named my older daughter Penelope.
I was MVP in softball my senior year.
I am Mrs. Shields.
2004

I Am (or I'm Not)

I AM Melissa Shields.
I have a pet pot-bellied pig named Charlene.
My daughter once stuck a whole green bean up her nose for an entire day.
I like to plant flowers and work in the yard.
When I was little, my best friend was an Aborigine from Australia.
I have never had a cavity in my whole life.
Fruit Loops are my favorite cereal.
I think fried pork rinds are delicious, so I eat them every day.
On the weekends, my husband and I ride our matching Harley Davidson motorcycles.
I like to smoke Swisher Sweet cigars.
I love to iron clothes.
Stephen King is my all-time favorite author because I love gory, scary stories.
When I was little, I was in love with the trash man.
I truly enjoy teaching sixth grade.
I once lost sixty-seven pounds in one year.
I auditioned for Mrs. Weasley in the Harry Potter movie.
I am Melissa Shields.

2005

ABC Biography (2004)

A. Aunt. Last year, I became a new AUNT. My little sister, Amy, had her first baby, and his name is Evan. I stayed with her for two weeks when he was born, and I just fell in love with him. He is so adorable. She is a terrific mommy, just as she has always dreamed.

B. Best Friend. My BEST FRIEND is without a doubt my husband of thirteen years. We were best friends before we were “romantic,” and I am so grateful for that. Through dating and marriage, I have been with him over half my life, and it amazes me that I still get that “feeling” when he walks in a room. While he is great looking, he is also the most honest and genuine man I have ever met. I look in his crystal blue eyes, or I see him “throwing the ball” with the girls in the yard, and my heart abounds with joy. I so dearly pray that my daughters can find a man just like their daddy.

C. Cancer-Free. On June 12, 2003, I reached my five-year anniversary of being declared CANCER-FREE. What seems like a lifetime ago, I was a young mother with uterine cancer. Too young. Reaching this five-year mark means a great deal to me. It means it is really over. Thank you, God.

D. “Diamond Room” – When Ashlyn was very small, she always called the dining room the diamond room. We thought that was so cute, and even though she is much older, we still call it the diamond room. She had many funny expressions like that such as getting “necky” for bubble baths and being my “honey.” She would say, “I love being your honey,” or “How many honnies do that mommy have?” Sweet. I miss that.

E. Elephant. The elephant is the University of Alabama’s mascot. It represents the strength and unity of that great school. I feel closely tied to the U of A because my parents, sister, and I all graduated from there. At present, I have two former students playing for the Crimson Tide, Brodie Croyle and Brandon Greer. I am so proud of them! Roll Tide!!!

F. Freedom. Freedom is one our nation’s greatest gifts. As I see other countries’ political systems, I am always reminded of how fortunate we are. It is such a blessing to raise my family with the opportunities and hope that they can achieve whatever they want.

G. Grandfathers. Growing up, I had two grandfathers. One was a Yankee from New York, and one was a southerner from Talladega, Alabama. I called my Yankee grandfather “grandpa,” and I called my southern grandfather “pawpaw.” Even though they were quite different, I loved them the same. My “grandpa” loved to tell me stories, and my “pawpaw” loved to take my flying in his plane or fishing on his boat. Both of my grandfathers are in heaven now, but I will always treasure the times we spent together.

H. Harry Potter. I am a HUGE Harry Potter fan. After I read the first book, I was completely hooked. I think that the Harry Potter series teaches so many life lessons such as courage, faith, stamina, and loyalty – all qualities that are important to being a well-rounded person. I have read each of these books to my children, and I will treasure those story times forever.

I. Igloo. I’ll never forget going to New York to visit my extended family. It was during the winter, and while there, a blizzard came. My dad and I went outside and worked all day on an igloo. Of course, being raised in the South, I had never had the opportunity to make one or play in one. I can still remember how proud I was of our icy creation. To frame that moment forever, my uncle took a picture of my dad and me in the entrance of our fun new home.

J. Jello. I absolutely HATE jello. When I was a very small child, I can remember hating jello. The nuns at my kindergarten would serve it at lunch, and I was often reprimanded for leaving all my jello on my tray. Even then, I couldn’t stand the consistency and the way it jiggled in my mouth. It made me think that something was alive in my mouth, cold and slimy. I have passed on this aversion to my children because they too stay away from the disgusting gelatin substance, otherwise known as jello.

K. Kaitlyn. I first heard the name “Kaitlyn” when I was seven months pregnant. The moment I did, I knew that would be my first daughter’s name. It just felt right. The moment she was placed in my arms, she looked just like a “Kaitlyn.” When she was little, we called her “Kay Kay.” Sometimes, I still call her that. When I’m mad, I say, “Kaitlyn Alexandra Shields!!!”

L. Life. I feel as though one should live his or her life to the very fullest. Never take anything or anyone for granted. We never know when our time on earth will be done, so it’s so important to cherish each moment of life we have.

M. Monopoly. When I was a kid, I loved to play Monopoly. My sister and I would stay up for hours playing that game. I always tried to buy Boardwalk first because it was easier to win with a hotel in that area. We would always laugh when one of us had to “go to jail.” My favorite part was when I got to pass “Go” and collect $200.

N. New York. All of my extended family lives in New York. I haven’t been able to visit them in many years, but I would love to do so someday soon. All of my cousins, aunts, and uncles have “yankee” accents, and they love to hear me speak. I agree with them that my southern accent is much more pleasant than theirs. I have many fond memories of my visits to New York as a child, particular those involving snow.

N. New House. My family and I just moved into our new house. We love it! While it may not be Trump Towers, it is still our dream house. I love to sit out on my deck, overlooking the pool and nearby creek, and drink a hot cup of coffee. It is so relaxing!

O. Optimistic. I guess you could say that I am a fairly optimistic person. As often as I can, I try to view life on the bright side. There’s no point in expecting the worst because it can make life depressing. When something bad happens, I try to think of the silver lining. What good can come from it? By doing that, I feel better equipped to handle life’s misfortunes and enjoy the good times as well.

P. PawPaw. I have wonderful memories of my pawpaw. He lived in a big house in Talladega on the river. It was there that I learned how to ski, swim, and fish. He was a gentle Southern man with a great love for the outdoors. He owned a small plane that he used to let me co-pilot with him. He also had a silver convertible Mustang that I loved most of all. PawPaw died when I was a teen, and I wish that he could have lived to meet my girls because I know they would have loved him as much as I still do.

Q. Quincy’s. As a teen, I worked at Quincy’s Steak House as a waitress and cashier. I had to wear ugly brown pants and a pine green shirt. I really enjoyed waitressing, and I especially liked big tips. I once could carry seven plates at one time. That was my proudest achievement while I was employed there. Even though waitressing was a very hard job, it taught me many valuable lessons, particularly about the satisfaction of earning my own money and the importance of a strong work ethic.

R. Rugrats. When my girls were very small, their favorite cartoon was Rugrats. We watched it almost every night after supper. They loved Chuckie because he was always scared and doing the wrong things. They also liked Spike, the dog. Kaitlyn even had a stuffed animal Spike that she slept with every night. If my daughters were ever bad, I would tell them that they were being an Angelica because she was the meanest and brattiest kid on the show.

S. Smile. People have asked me many times, “Why are you always smiling?” I’m not really sure that I know the answer, but I know that I’m just a happy person. I have so many things to be thankful for, and I can’t help but feel very blessed. I think that is so important to think positively, and that comes across naturally with a smile. I also find that if I greet every morning with a smile, my day will be a little brighter, and so will others around me.

T. Teacher. Growing up, I never even once considered teaching as a job one day. I wanted to join the Peace Corp or become a famous lawyer. I just fell into the teaching career by accident. I was taking an English class in college and it occurred to me that I would really enjoy teaching English. I love to write, read, and spend time with kids. I’m so thankful that I changed my mind because I feel as though teaching is one of the most rewarding careers there are. Even though it’s very stressful and tireless, it’s wonderful to know that I might have made a difference in someone’s life. It’s a real blessing.

U. Underwear. I will never forget the time my dad was teaching me to ride a bike. I was going down my first big hill when I lost control. I flipped a couple of times, and I began to cry when I saw my bloody knees. A boy that I liked lived near my crash and heard me crying. When he came to see if I was okay, my dad said, “Honey, you have a big hole in your pants.” Indeed, I did. My shorts had split and my underwear was revealed for the whole world to see. I quickly forgot about my pain because humiliation took over.

V. Value. I suppose the item that has highest value to me is my piano. I’ve played the piano since I was eight years old. When I took lessons, I hated the practices. However, now that I’m an adult, I’m so thankful for them. My husband bought the piano I now have as a surprise ten years ago, and I have never been so excited about a gift. I love playing the piano for my family and friends. My children and husband like to sing along with me as I play our favorite songs. Playing my piano is very relaxing to me – almost like an escape.

W. Wish. I have many wishes. I wish to live a long time and be in good health. I wish that I had more money so that I would not have to worry about my kids’ college or retirement. I wish that all of my students cared about learning and were well-behaved all the time. My biggest wish is that my daughters live a long, healthy life married to caring, godly men.

X. X-Treme Makeover – Home Edition. That is one of my favorite shows to watch on TV. I don’t think I’ve watched one episode when I didn’t cry. It is so touching to see people receive a new home and lifestyle. Most of the families featured have gone through a terrible tragedy or illness, and because of that, the show is even more meaningful.

Y. Yell. For some time now, I’ve been coaching cheerleaders. Although I first began because I felt sorry for them, I’ve stuck with it because I love to be with them. I love the pep rallies, the competitions, the camps, and the practices. I love to hear them YELL for our team! Go EAGLES! Things have changed much since I was a cheerleader, and it’s really exciting to be a part of such an evolving sport.

Thursday, June 3, 2010

To Tell or Not to Tell: A Mother's Dilemma

My eight-year-old daughter and I are sitting impatiently in doctor’s office because I am sure he can give her a miracle cure for her incessant runny nose and cold symptoms. I know – a pipe dream. But I digress. I read a magazine to pass the time, and as I am thumbing through the pages, my young red-headed daughter asks without the slightest bit of trepidation, “Mommy, where do babies came from?” SHOCK! HORROR! The question I’ve dreaded for eight of her innocent years of life! In the next few moments, I try to contrive every possible correct answer to this dreaded question. However, I barely manage, “I’m not sure you want to know.” What a wimpy answer! Evidently, my sweet child read the sheer terror on my face and responded, “I….I don’t think I do either.” Sweet relief.

The doctor soon arrives and diagnoses my daughter with a head cold. “She just needs rest and plenty of fluids,” he assures me. Like I said earlier, a pipe dream. What a waste of time!

A day passes, and during that time, I try to digest the inevitable conversation. Did I do the right thing? After much thought, I made a decision to introduce the “facts of life” to my curious daughter in VERY general terms. “This is natural,” I try to convince myself. So, while my younger daughter takes a nap (I’ll worry about her later – much later, I hope.), I pull out a book that I purchased some time ago for just this event. It’s complete with valuable diagrams and pictures. Isn’t that what all well-intentioned moms do? I thumb quickly through the pages, only to stop on the picture of Michelangelo, the one where he’s missing an essential element of clothing - underwear! I’ll skip that page!

I ask my daughter to sit with me in the library because, “I have a special book for you to read.” My heart races as I prepare for what is to come. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this,” I think.

My daughter sees the cover of the book and asks, “Can we read Harry Potter instead?”

“Oh yes, let’s do,” I want to say, but instead I gently tell her that this is a story that every growing girl needs to know. Here we go.

I read the first three pages relatively painlessly. Unfortunately, the fourth page reminds the reader that there are “girl parts” and “boy parts.” Immediately, my daughter asks incredulously, “What’s the boy part called?” I must do this. I hesitantly, and I mean hesitantly, say the scientific name. She giggles, “That sounds like ‘Venus’!” To make matters worse, she proceeds to say THAT word approximately twenty times in quick succession. Then she stopped and instinctly asks, “What’s the girl part called?” I relate the word to her, and she spurts, “And that sounds like ‘China’. Ba-china!”
This isn’t happening. Can I please erase the last five minutes from our lives? Just when I think things cannot get much worse, my other daughter, a mere six years of age, stumbles sleepily into the room and says emphatically, “Read to me too!”

At that point, the big sister jumps to her feet and proudly announces her two new vocabulary words. I feel faint.

I anticipate more of this maternal torture, only to hear my younger daughter, who by the way, was completely unaffected by those two words, say, “Isn’t it time for the Brady Bunch to come on TV?” There is a God. I stand quickly and say, “Why, yes it is. Let’s go watch it together. Just us girls.” My daughters trot to the television. I stand a broken woman. I close the book, an in doing so, I admit defeat.

This perplexing turn of events has forced me to admit that I am not ready, nor willing, to let my children break out of the naiveté that I have so long perpetuated for them. The great paradox is that I know I must do so, and with that, I prepare once again with great anguish for the birds, the bees, and my daughter. I know that by doing so, I am opening a new chapter of her life and turning the page on another.

My Honey (for Ashlyn)

My Honey

My young blond daughter.
A twinkle in my eye.
A spark in my heart.
She says,
I like being your honey, Mommy.

A constant cuddler
who waddles in my bedroom each night
for some extra lovin.’
I awake with the soft strokes on my face,
a tiny movement of her hand.
She thinks I’m beautiful.

My honey likes to eat in the “diamond” room
and get “necky” for foamy bubble baths
so that she will smell fresh for her troublesome
make-believe friend, Cindy.
Before bedtime, we read “demotions” from the
Scriptures,
and she asks, Where is Heaven?
She is Heaven.

My brown-eyed cutie elicits a smile from my
soul
through small movements.
I find her white dance gloves
with a lipstick stain
h i d d e n
in the folds of my purse.
My heart swells.
I cannot put them away.
I am compelled to hold them, to
visualize her little painted
f in ge rs
that once grew
inside me.

She’s found a best friend, Caroline.
I watch them together,
and I see my honey growing
UP.
She is discovering other beautiful people.



Melissa Shields 2000

My Sleeping Child




I wake up from a deep sleep in the middle of the night and know that within moments my child will also awake. She will be crying because a bad dream or because she will be needing a late night snack. Maybe she just wants her mommy to hold and comfort her for no reason at all. I instinctively go to her crib and remove her from it. We quietly go to the rocking chair, the same one in which my mother rocked me. Her crying has stopped and we rock- her body fitting perfectly in my arms, her warm toes nestling in my side, and one tiny hand firmly holding my hair.

These are the moments I miss most with my girls. Now that one daughter is a toddler and the other a pre-schooler, they rarely becken me in the night. So, I find myself missing those late night rendezvous when everyone else is asleep and the world is still. Possibly that explains why I find myself peering into my children's rooms when they are in the land of Blynken and Nod.

I suppose I, like all moms, find a special pleasure in watching my children sleep. The responsibilities of parenthood are put to rest for a while. For me, it goes further than that. It is a spiritual experience- a time when I feel connected to my children in an indescribable way. When I look at their sleeping faces, I see myself, my ancestors, and my descendants.

Although I perform this ritual often, I do it differently almost every time. I sometimes stand in the entrance of one of my girls' rooms and listen to the steady rhythm of her breathing. When she was a baby, I recall listening for her breathing to make sure she indeed was. But now, it’s different- I’m listening to my young child as an audience would listen to a great concerto. As I listen to her quick breaths, I begin to think about my role as her mother. I realize that this child's memories will be shaped as a result of my action and REactions. What a responsibility! How can I measure up?

At other times, I creep into my daughter's room and sit on the bed beside her. Amongst the fragments of moonlight, I can see her sweet little rounded face, a face of peace. Her eyes may flutter and an angelic smile might grace her rosy-cheeked face as if she feels my presence in her state of slumber. I pick up her tiny hand as she curls her fingers around my own in the same way she did as an infant. I imagine these fingers playing the piano one day, performing surgery, or perhaps holding a little miracle of her own.

As I sit attentively watching my child, I say a simple prayer aloud,
"Grant me the wisdom to make the right decisions for this little one. Surround this precious lamb with a flock of your best angels and protect her from any injustices. Help her to maintain the innocence and purity she now carries in that tiny beating heart. Amen."

If I've had a particularly hard day or maybe just in need of some "cuddling" as my girls affectionately call it, I go a step further. I push the bedtime toys aside and lie next to my sleeping child who has death grip on her favorite baby doll, Julie. I stroke her hair, wet at the brow and neck. I lie there quietly reflecting on the day's events, planning the next, and am startled when she turns over and says, "Hi Mommy. I love you," without ever really coming into complete consciousness. And I think, "No one ever told me motherhood was like this!"

When I settle into my own bed next to my handsome husband, a sadness comes over me when I realize these moments with my girls are fleeting. They will grow up and won't be the same little girls who want to cuddle. I'll become MOM or MOTHER, not Mommy. Our relationship will inevitably change. Will they remember these special times? Will they still want to confide in me? And then, something in me wants to make time stand still so that they could remain toddlers with eager smiles and endless hugs. But alas, I realize I must put aside my own selfish needs and concerns, and look toward the future- a future of evolution for my precious daughters and me.

My Husband Who (for Scott)

My husband who

My husband whose soul is seen through his crystal blue skies
Who asks little in return
Who is my rock
Who is my shelter
Whose hair was once the color of cotton
Worries about the future
Who tells me I’m beautiful
And tenderly strokes my back at the end
of each day
Who can’t stop worrying about “his girls”
Is my best friend
Is the one who gives me hope
Doesn’t like doing dishes
Is honest
Loves sports
Who still makes my skin tingle upon his touch
Who makes my life whole and complete

Melissa Shields 2006

The Shadow Child (the one I never had)

The Shadow Child

Tiny moments yearned
Smells of innocence lost

A small shape with dark locks
and blue mirrors

A cowboy, a brother, an heir, a son
Dreams imagined and now impossible

Taken away by a malignant darkness
A desire unfulfilled
Sacrificed for the search of survival

A shadowed child hiding in the mind
trying desperately to escape the light of reality
a child loved, admired, and grieved

These distant twinkling of eyes
leave an aching heart to mourn
the child not forgotten who never came to be

Melissa Shields, 2000

Kaitlyn is....


Kaitlyn is….

Kaitlyn is an angel who brings joy to our lives
She wonders how she can help others
She hears, “Great Job, Kaitlyn,” and gloriously smiles
She see my open arms and runs to them
She wants to be perfect in every way
She is an angel who brings joy to our lives

She pretends she is a teacher like me
She feels Little Bear’s protection during the night
She touches our hearts in each of her loving ways
She worries that she will fail
She cries when she is frustrated
She is an angel who brings joy to our lives

She understands God’s saving grace
She says she will go to Heaven because Jesus died on the cross for her
She dreams of being a great athlete like her Daddy
She tries so hard to make us proud
She hopes she will see PaPaw Billy Mack in Eden
She is angel who brings joy to our lives

Melissa Shields, 2000

A Mother's Night Reflection (for my girls)




Bedtime stories, lingering hugs, tiny puckered kisses
Can’t we stay up a little longer? they ask

Lights out, one by one
Stillness embraces the home
Quiet, Comforting, Secure

Husband sleeps peacefully nearby
A best friend, a soul companion

Sweet reflection of the day
A clear visualization
of each daughter soundly asleep at that moment
Curled bodies, deep breaths,
dreamy minds, innocent hearts
Each is protected. Whole.

Contentment and gratefulness
envelopes the mother’s soul
A prayer that each night offers the same promise
of completeness
of safety
of hope

Eyes become heavy
as the busy day’s activities take hold
The heart swells
and the mind takes refuge in the overwhelming
feeling of bliss

Melissa Shields, 2001

Gatlinburg - An Adventure in Survival (Girls' Trip to Gatlinburg)

Gatlinburg - An Adventure in Survival

An early morning departure.
Destination: Gatlinburg, Tennessee.
Suitcases packed and neatly placed in a welcoming Camry trunk.
Eager shoppers meet as one battling illness nibbles on an anniversary Saltine.

First stop - Cracker Barrel.
Much needed coffee and bathroom break.
We eat, we leave. Melissa did pay this time.

CRASH!
F150 tangos with the Camry.
Everyone OK?
Kathy, can you speak?
Her first Slamogram.

A lone TVA worker
Virgil
Melissa admits guilt
Call the police

Officer arrives.
A sneer on his shaved face.
Bad morning - no handcuffs.
Capture the clandestine moment with film.
Ducktape car back together, kind officer slams truck closed.
Depart once again.

Patti, passenger seat driver.
Shirley sleeps.
Melissa, somewhat frazzled, drives on.

Pigeon Forge.
Loretta’s ten-minute quickie at the Family Inn.
Shirley asks to join,
and Loretta admits she’s not “as quick as she used to be.”

A village of shops greets us.
We eat, we shop, we journey to our hotel.
A long perilous pilgrimage.

Loretta eagerly unpacked her car’s luggage.
Melissa’s car angrily imprisons her traveler’s bags.
A friendly fireman loans Loretta a long crowbar, decorated with a yellow tip.
She is a woman on a mission. A mission impossible!
Turn the key, tear out the speaker, jump on the trunk, pull!
Nothing.
I need my medicine! I want my pillow! What about my underwear?

Dejected, Melissa calls home and relates the accident to a machine,
one that will greet Scott when he returns.

A furied search for toothbrushes and clothes begins.
Three toothbrushes, one to go.
Shirley, outfitted in her white bat finery, stumbles upon
a product that will keep each women fresh and dry.
A true matriarch.

A pancake house dinner warms our bodies and fills our empty stomachs.
Renewed, the seven travelers search for the remainder of their captured necessities.

Arms loaded with gifts and supplies,
the travelers return to the room.
Patti finally frees her puppies, but her cat is stressed out.
Jana airs out.
Dirty socks and Rook, a perfect combination.
Shirley cheats.
Jana, will you shut up? demands Polly Pureheart.
Christy doesn’t vote.

Calls home.
Brett killed an 8 point buck!
Ryan wrecked his car!
Scott, are you sure you’re not mad at me?

Never have I ever?
Lots of interesting revelations.

The travelers sleep.
They wake to a pancake breakfast.
Suitcases and makeshift bags are gathered.
A search for the perfect Christmas ornament.
A stop at Target.
The duck tape still keeping the car intact.

The group separates into two,
and each travels home
with achy joints, missing tail lights, dirty clothes, gifts, empty wallets,
and lots of family memories.

Melissa Shields 2001

The Palms

The Palms
June 17-June 24, 2000
Okaloosa Island, Florida

The Palms, 503
An emerald beach laced
with a sea grass necklace
Balcony memories of an oceanic escape

Little girls’ smiles
A midnight walk on the beach
Lucky lotto tickets and matching coconut anklets
A growing goatee and
infatuation with a man named Austin Powers

Golden sunshine waving in the air
gives cautionary permission to saddle
the boogie board and tame the waves
as Amy reads.
Crimson flag
Hammerheads on their march
There! We see them!
Dorsal fins spotted, but merely belonging to a family of friendly porpoises
as Amy reads.
Blue flag, calm beach
We freely swim, surf,
and Amy reads.

Steady stream of mid-day sandwiches. No more!
A white Jeep carries all to
fine dining.
A lighthouse with no cheese.
Harry T and Giggles crown Ashlyn as
we make our way to the Back Porch, and
pricy oysters and crab legs make their dent.
Twenty-two dollar buffet at Captain Kidds leads to a Lucky Snapper Escape. No Hooters allowed.
A drive-thru run to Krispy Kreme
Fifteen doughnuts,
two left behind, but soon heroicly rescued.

Flesh browning, burning.
Peeling skin.
Give me sunscreen or give me death!
Men in Speedos. EEK!
Amy and Melissa find paradise in floating mattresses of air.
Ashlyn, enemy of the sea
“People pee in it!”
but Kaitlyn embraces the waves without hesitation.
The small pool welcomes both girls and splashes them with hugs.
Yea, Baby!

The men and their hit-and-run golf clubs
find a serene Shalimar
and a perched sun-bathing flamingo. Oh, Behave!
The others innocently perfect their tans, harming nothing but their indelible skin.

Digging. Digging. Digging.
Digging a hole and
Michael, the Crocodile Hunter, dives for hidden treasures.
Large speckled shells
Hermit crabs and sea slugs imprisoned in a dungeon, a plastic pink sand castle.
Mommy and Daddy netting friendly fish
and the Girls setting them free
Twilight baseball on the beach
Good catch, Kaitlyn!
Dark skies close the curtain.

A perfect vacation
with Loved Ones.
Wonderful seaside memories never to be forgotten.

Melissa Shields, 2000

The Couple

A union suspended in time,
A couple connected.
One round and full,
The other tiny and new.

Essence of purity—
One figure embodies the other
In miniature form,
An innocent reflection of time forever forgotten.

The moment lingers
As the small hands
Clasp long hair and soft flesh
Of the One who provides sweet sustenance.

As she suckles,
Eyes meet Eyes.
She pauses,
And silent words are exchanged.

Impenetrable passion exists
within the couple,
A passion known only
by Mother and Child.

Melissa Shields, 1997

My Daughter Who (for Ashlyn)

My daughter who
My daughter who loves to cuddle
And asks me to pray with her
Who is beautiful and kind
Who is a flyer and a hitter
Whose hair is spun of gold
Is too anxious about her life
Who tells me I’m beautiful too
Who once declared that she would marry Daddy
Can’t keep her room clean
Dreams of monsters and bad grades
Who used to sleep with us each night
Is a honey
Is the soft spot in my heart
Is driven— can’t stop
Doesn’t kiss me as much
Is growing up
Whose body is changing
Is sprouting and curving
Who sings and laughs and inspires
Is the second and smallest
Asking, come pray with me
Who will make a difference

(inspired by Sandra Cisneros’s “Abuelito Who”)
Melissa Shields, 2007

Easter Morning (and Cancer)



It is a warm and humid afternoon. The leaves are still moist with the morning dew. Church services have just ended, and we stop at my mother-in-law’s house. She always wants a picture of us in our Sunday’s best.

My daughters are wearing their special monogrammed dresses. I had spent much more on those dresses than I ever had before, but this Easter was special. It was different.

I see the smile on my face, and I recognize the false bravado I’m trying to conceal. I am very thin and pale. I have cancer.

I notice my husband’s grip on me - almost as though he is trying to keep me from falling. I see the fear in his eyes and the sadness in his heart.

My older daughter has just learned of my illness, and something in her expression displays her concern, while my baby, Ashlyn, has no consciousness of her mommy being sick.

I recall how weak I felt and how strong I knew I had to be for them. I remember wondering if this my last Easter picture with my family.

Melissa Shields, 1998

Dirty Feet and Trade Day



Early Saturday morning, and it is
hot already
Pony tails, tanktops, cut-off Levis
We load up in a beat-up rusty Ford
Loose change in our pockets
Dad at the wheel and
we’re seated upon
faded wooden slats
in the bed of the pickup
Stringy hair flying in the wind
Avoiding bugs in our teeth
Ducking whenever we
saw someone familiar
Arriving, and searching for
funnel cakes

Dirty people, old junk, pigs,
and car parts –
Dad’s paradise
We pet rottweilers, who wouldn’t hurt
a fly
Dad caresses brake pads
that are “dirt cheap”

Filthy feet, empty pockets,
bloated stomachs leave
with us
On the way home,
we stop beside the highway
to pick blackberries
Watch for snakes!

Returning home with
purple faces, sunburned shoulders,
and scratches
And we didn’t know that
we loved it
until
now

Melissa Shields, 2007

When I Was Young


When I was young in the sleepy town of Hokes Bluff
I knew everyone by name
All adults were “mister” or “misses.”
Horses grew families across the street
And the milkman delivered cold milk on Tuesday mornings.

Wrinkled leathered faces told the life stories of farmers and their yielded crops,
And gas was pumped by the man everyone called Frank,
Who never let a dirty windshield go unnoticed.

When I was young, I could walk to the nearby drugstore
To buy an twenty-five cent RC in an icy glass bottle.
Tent revivals set up camp in the pasture near my home,
And if I was lucky, I could catch the shiny silver dollars
They cast out from the pulpit.

When I was young, we picked maypops
And lined them down the street
So that we could hear the loud “pop”
As we cracked them with our speeding bikes.

When the summer sun rose, my auburn-haired sister and I
Roamed the neighborhood, which only hosted ten homes,
Not returning until dark or Mother made us come home.
Tanned or dirty, not sure which.

And when the evening came upon us,
We sat on the front porch in rusty metal chairs
And listened to the crickets’ love songs
Or caught the glowing lightening bugs
in mason jars covered by slitted aluminum foil.

Our Porch Sings Melodies of Home

Our Porch Sings Melodies of Home

Porches, social networks of the South
Wooden rocking chairs, aged by the morning sun
beckon tranquility and an iced sweet tea
As moist dew forms on plush ripe-green lawn
Adorned with vibrant pink azaleas
and billowing hydrangeas

An escape
from the harsh realities of deadlines and expectations
A welcoming haven of the southern gentility I so warmly embrace
A refuge
A place to reconnect without
The blaring sounds of technology
No TV, no phone – just the song
Of home,
Of us,
playing deftly in the warm evening sky

My Voyage (as a teacher)

My Voyage

Seventeen years ago….
I began my odyssey – naïve and eager to tackle my mission.
I believed I could change the universe.
However, I found myself in a black hole of
endless papers to grade and
mounds of expectations.
I voyaged to other classrooms,
Eagerly seeking new ideas and successful strategies.
I soon found……the JSU Writing Project.
A new dimension for teachers.
I boldly went where other innovative teachers had gone before.
I ventured to new worlds with other motivated voyagers,
Those who were also seeking wisdom, collaboration, and great ideas.
I left the JSU Writing Project transformed, brimming with confidence and excitement.
I had possessed a galaxy of resources that I had gleaned from the other fellows, now my friends.
I had eclipsed to a renewed sense of purpose.
Mission completed.
I still travel to new worlds each year as I revisit my maiden voyage…. the JSU Writing Project.
And as I do, I return later to my classroom, refreshed and inspired,
Giving me the tools I need to prepare young minds for their own voyages and self-discoveries.

Melissa Shields