TEAM JONES
CREATIVE OUTLET

Reflections on a Starry Night

Copyright © 1998 Valeri Jones

I saw tonight the cold dark space,
Where planets dance in solomn grace
Where Saturn shows his ring of white
And Mars gives off his cold red light

And Jupiter with colored bands,
Like modeling clay in my hands
And Venus in her quarter phase,
Seen through Earth's occluding haze

Orion's Nebula, Medusa's Head,
Sirius star, blue, green and red
How can I look on Heaven's dome
And think that we are all alone?

Is someone out there in the black,
With telescope and looking back?
Wondering, the same as me,
"Is someone looking back at me?"

For surely there must be someone
Who calls Andromeda her sun,
And wonders just the same as I,
When turning telescope to sky.

The Face of a Child

Copyright © 1998 Valeri Jones

I can't now remember which daughter I wrote this for - Mary would have been 8 and Liz 5 - but it was true for both of them.

I look at you sleeping.
You sprawl in that careless way
That only a child can achieve
After a long day of play and learning.

Your face is the face of an angel.
An angel who can play in the mud,
Dump a whole box of cereal on the floor,
Scribble on the wall with my best lipstick,
And make it up by saying "I love you, Mommy."

Do you know how precious you are to me?
Do you know what it means to me
When you run up to me with arms open wide,
And for no particular reason, hug me,
And tell me that I'm your favorite mom?

I know that you'll grow up some day,
As children always do.
And you'll love me and you'll hate me,
Depending on the mood of the moment.
I remember the storms of adolescence
Crashing on the relationship of mother and child.

And someday you'll leave me
To go to college, to find a job,
To start a family of your own,
Or just to discover what's "out there"
And I'll have to let you go.

But I want to keep this moment
When you are mine, and mine alone.
Seeing you,
Watching you,
Loving you,
As I look at you sleeping.

At Last

Copyright © 1998 Valeri Jones

A splash of green from under snow,
A red-breast robin cheeps, "Hello!'
Daffodils in my garden grow,
Spring is here at last.

A hint of warmth does touch the land,
As dripping snow strikes up a band,
And sunny skies seem close at hand,
Spring is here at last!

Gone is coldness, gone is gloom,
All spring flowers start to bloom,
Life is woven on a wonderous loom,
Spring is here at last!

Home

Copyright © 1997 Valeri Jones

This is a bit of prose I wrote when I went back to the house I grew up in.

I think I'll go outside.
It's cold
But I look and I see -
I see a house that is smaller than I thought it was.
I see a neighborhood that has more houses than I remember.
I see trees that are larger than they used to be.
The front porch is gone, replaced by a wooden ramp made for my invalid mother.
The school bus stops in the same place I waited so many times.
The kids pour out, boisterous, laughing like I did. But the faces are all different.
These may be the children that I babysat when I was their age... or younger.
The friends I knew from school are all gone now.
Like me, I guess, they've gone to seek their fortunes elsewhere.
My kids are discovering, with wide-eyed wonder, places I knew well as a child.
They play in the treehouse that I built with my dad.
They sled down the same hill I did when I was young.
Inside is the same hot chocolate I drank, cold-nosed and rosy-cheeked.
So much is different. So much has stayed the same.
It's cold.
I think I'll go inside.

Stormy Skies

Copyright © 1998 Valeri Jones

The lightning reached across the sky amid the gathering gloom
And spoke its words of thunder about the coming doom.

I heard the words it spoke to me, like voices from the gods.
But tones of voice and messages seemed curiously at odds.

The voice it spoke of Armageddon, and thundered loud and strong,
But me, I looked behind the voice, and thought it might be wrong.

For even as it blustered, and told me horrid things,
The rainbow set behind it, did only wonder bring

In every message sent to us, no matter who the bringer
There is concealed, hidden from us, an optomistic singer.

In every storm, some rain must fall, but rain is necessary,
'Cause if the rain is struck by sun, a rainbow it will carry.

So if you're feeling like the clouds are all that you can see,
Be brave and wait, for clearer skies lay in the storm clouds' lee.

Snow

Copyright © 1997 Valeri Jones

Inspired by the first snowfall of the season.

A blanket of white lays on the land, cold falls out of the sky, to my hand
Wind sighs soft through the covered bough, whispering Jack Frost's chilly vow.

Muffled colors, noise and sound, dancing starlight all around,
Full moon bright, as light as day, can take my many years away.

Back to childhood, years ago, making angels in the snow;
Bright red cheeks and frozen toes, free from duty, trust and woes

But I am older now, I see, and have responsibility.
I see now what my mother saw from autumn's frost to first spring thaw.

"Don't get wet! You'll catch your death!", "Put on a coat, I see your breath!"
I wish again that I could see things as the child I used to be.

But innocence, once lost, is gone, and nevermore can I belong
To those whose wonder can delight in snowflakes falling in the night.

Here

Copyright © 1997 Andrew R. Jones

The sound of water on the roof
drew me from my keys.
I stepped out front, was dazzled,
and driven to my knees.

There were booming diamonds across the
jagged eastern peaks.
The sky was the dozen colours
that artists always seek.

I watched the Gods talk business here
along with all the rest -
There's other places I could be,
but here I like it best.

Here I will remain,
out West
'Tween the Mountain
the Thunder and the Plain.

Cat

Copyright © 1998 Valeri Jones

I am a cat.
I envy no one.
I am the epitome of arrogance.
I can be, because I am a cat.

The world revolves around me.
I know this because of these facts:
When I purr, I am petted.
When I meow, I am let out (or in).
When I cry, everyone notices,
And tries to comfort me.

I cannot abide a closed door.
It is an affront to my innate curiosity.
Therefore I will scratch at it until it opens.
And once on the other side I will scratch at it again
Until it opens and reveals the things that might have changed
Since I was last on the other side.

I do what I please.
And it pleases me to sleep on the nice, warm laundry,
Fresh from the dryer.
It pleases me to lie on your book,
Because I am much more interesting.
It pleases me to sleep in the middle of the floor,
Just to know humans are walking around me,
Trying not to disturb me.

And once in a while, it pleases me too,
To let you hold me in your arms,
And rub your cheek against mine
In silent feline conversation.
I could say that I like it, but no,
I only permit it from someone
Who gives me treats.

I am silence, I am stealth,
I am grace, and I am mystery.
I envy no one,
Because I am a cat.