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More poetry from Bob Rotruck:

I’m a very lucky person you know,

I have been blessed by an angel’s glow.

How you ask, can I know for sure,

That angels even exist all glorious and pure.

Trust me, I know, I have seen one in action,

An angel that gives love for pure satisfaction.

This angel has tended her husband for years,

A guy that occasionally brought her to tears.

An angel that raised two wonderful boys,

They’ve become fine men and her greatest joys.

But angels are more than just mothers and wives,

They go above and beyond in the living of their lives.

They take on a task that no other would take,

And do it out of pure love, no pretense or fake.

Such as tending a Mother that was frail in years,

Many times their relationship brought her tears.

But she would go back, day after day,

Because she knew that love was her pay.

She watched this tiny woman so frail,

Day after day she began to fail.

It got real bad down near the end,

But the love of an angel can never bend.

For the one thing that an angels got,

Is the backing of the Father for their lot.

An angel only knows how to share God’s love,

When you’re an angel, God fits like a glove.

Now God has rested this angel dear,

He has taken her Mother to heaven it’s clear.

This angel can rest, she has done her best,

There is no doubt she passed God’s test.

I’m a very lucky person you know,

I can boast I have an angel to show!

God bless you my angel dear,

You are my angel, it’s clear.

Rotruck – ‘02

This poem, as you can see, is dedicated to Bob’s wife. Every woman should have such an appreciative spouse! Thanks for sending this one, Bob, and Happy Easter!

Patricia Cummings — See more of Bob’s poetry in past blog entries and on this website: Quilter’s Muse

Jan Aronson just wanted the judges’ feedback when she entered the quilt seen above into a Venice, Florida show. Instead, she won a few ribbons, as you can see. The photo is sent to us by her friend, Charlotte Croft of Vermont. We think it’s great when friends can celebrate a victory such as this. Congratulations, Jan!

Patricia and James Cummings, Quilter’s Muse Virtual Museum

Grandson, Patrick, celebrating St. Patrick’s Day 2008.

Today is a day to celebrate the Irish and the Emerald Isle. There is much to be said about the Irish, a land that has been ravaged by the rule of despotic outsiders who plundered and abused; a land that is full of charm because of its music, its beauty, and the loving hearts of those who live there now, or whose ancestors came to America, in desperation, seeking honest work and a day’s pay.

St. Patrick brought Christianity to Ireland in 432 and proselytized until his death in 460 by which time he had converted all of Ireland from paganism. He did not realize that centuries later, Protestants and Catholics would murder each other, in the name of religion. The Celts, early dwellers of Ireland, have left a lasting impact on the country. Some of those people, now believed to have been criminals, were killed and buried in peat bogs, presumably so that they would suffer an endless Purgatory, somewhere between earth and sky. Today, their bodies are being found and they are well preserved due to the chemicals in the sphagnum moss. Scientists can examine their long tresses and determine from hair follicles what they ate, over time. In these kinds of tests, we are learning more about the early people of Ireland.

Wonderful Irish leprachaun cookies and a few bunnies, made by my niece, Amy DeNoble and her daughters. Leprachauns were considered, traditionally, to be grouchy as they had to repair everyone’s shoes.

I prefer to think of the enchantment of leprechauns and folklore of Ireland, the pot o’ gold at the end of the rainbow, and “kissing the Blarney Stone.” I dwell on Irish humor, a humor that sometimes has its roots in pain. Sometimes, one has to laugh, because in beginning to cry, the tears would fill a river. Like one Irish aunt of mine was fond of saying, while throwing up her hands, “What can you do?”

This was the same aunt who would ask visitors if they would like a cup of tea. Going to the cupboard, she would find no tea. She’d ask, “Would a cup of coffee do?” Going to the cupboard, she’d find no coffee, too. With nothing else suitable to be found, we’d either settle for nothing, or know, next time, to bring our own refreshments. For many Irish, for many years, the cupboards were always virtually bare. Potatoes were the main fare, and disaster hit with the Potato Famine of the 1800s, causing mass exodus from Ireland.

I can only dream of Ireland and County Kilkenny, land of my ancestors. When I think of Ireland, in color, that color is green. Of course, there is the Irish shamrock, its three petals symbolizing the Holy Trinity. There are the green fields of Ireland, immortalized in song and representing the four sectors, one of which is primarily Protestant and English in the industrialized north. “Four Green Fields,” a song written by the late Tommy Makem commemorates this bit of Irish history.
On St. Patrick’s Day, some people celebrate by drinking green beer. Not being a drinker, that would not be me. Nor will I enjoy any (dry) Irish soda bread, nor briny corned beef.

Today, I hope to find time to listen to some of my favorite songs including one hilarious one that includes the statement about a “dearie” – “pulling ‘them’ up and pulling them down and forgot to pull down the shade.” I’ll have to listen to the song again to remember the context of the statement. To me, it presents a funny image. Oh, what is life without humor? I would hate to know!

Whether you bake a cake and add green frosting, croon an Irish tune, or watch a St. Patrick’s Day parade … or even make an Irish quilt today … have fun! Even if you are not Irish, you can still have fun! And, for heaven’s sake, whether you are getting dressed or undressed, please remember to pull down the shade! Erin Go Bragh!

Patricia Cummings

Like many other creative artists and writers, Bob Rotruck believes that the words of his poetry come through him from a Higher Source. I take great pleasure in sharing his poem, written in 1994.

A Misty Morning in Canada. Photo by James Cummings, 2007.

“Mist in the Morning”

I awaken and look at the fresh new day
I seek the bright sun and its first ray.
But this day a pale mist hangs over the east,
It is a beautiful quietness for my eyes to feast.
What is it you see that quiets the mind?
What is it you seek for your eye to find?
A shroud of gray mist covers the land,
It is as though nature has put out her hand.
And yet the earth is coming awake.
I wonder how long it will take,
For birds and bees to look for food,
For the moisture on a leaf to do some good.
See how the mist makes the earth glisten?
Pause for a moment and just listen.
Hear the droplets of moisture fall down,
Kissing the earth it will never be found.
Maybe this drop will make a green thing grow
Perhaps it will grow to be food for a doe.
Or perhaps a tall tree it may become
To cast shade from the sun where heat comes from.
Someday this tree may push clear to the top.
And on the morn the fog it will stop,
And gather the drops of a gray mist,
It holds them there no drops it insists.
It waits for someone to listen I know,
The gray mist waits to display its show.

ROTRUCK – ‘94

Please see more of Bob Rotruck’s poetry on our website by accessing the word search function on the front page. There is also a file about his grandmother and her quilts.

Patricia Cummings, Quilter’s Muse Publications and Virtual Museum

Andrea Bocelli’s music is wonderful. He is one of my favorite musical artists and this past winter, I’ve enjoyed his concerts on PBS and the interview they did with him. His voice is soothing and his choice of songs, delightful. His songs in Italian make me wish I spoke Italian. One song that he sings that I do understand is in Spanish, called “Bésame Mucho.”

In seeking more information about this particular song, I found out that it was written in the 1940s by a Mexican woman who died in 2005 at the age of 88. Her name is Consuelo Velazquez (I’d put an accent mark on the “a” in her last name, but this particular blog program does not recognize the computer signals for that accented letter designation).

In part, the haunting lyrics say: “Kiss me much … as if it were the last time.” Off hand, I would say that those words were very appropriate, if written in the 1940s, wouldn’t you?

Andrea Bocelli’s CDs are sold on amazon and in various music stores. You Tube had had a link to this song performance, but removed it. Perhaps it was an unauthorized taping?

At any rate, if you have the chance, download some of Bocelli’s songs or buy one of his CDs. He is a true talent. The world needs more beautiful souls, like him.

Patricia Cummings