I am quite able:
to face adversity
to rise to the challenge
to face my own destiny and mortality
to take up the sword for good
to speak out against injustice.
I am equally able:
to fight the good fight
to accept you as you are
to be alone and happy with myself
to run with the big dogs
to avoid the occasional (and un-occasional) pit falls.
But if, I choose,
and you accept,
one simple request from me…
and not that I’d ask you often,
or expect,
on a regular basis that you should…
Would you,
could you,
shelter me…
from my own ability,
to do it all by myself?
by Tricia Bock
5/4/09
(Tricia Bock lives in the village of Nashville, Indiana. She has self published two books: Making a Life I Can Live and "47". Both are available at the local book store in Nashville.)
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
The Thing About Writers
The thing about writers is:
they share.
They are a sharing people.
They have to be.
Without this ability,
they could not publish their work,
or express their thoughts to an audience:
real or imagined.
Without sharing,
they could not read at an open mike night,
or at a writer’s group,
or even to their pet, if they would listen.
They may not see themselves this way.
Many write about being introverted,
then read that bit of writing to large groups,
in coffee houses,
at a library,
or in book stores.
They write about the struggles
of living life alone,
or of the solitary process
that being a writer is…
But without the ability to share the words,
they are truly alone in the world.
And the thing about writers is…
there are too many of us
for any of us
to be truly alone
in the world…
by Tricia Bock
5/6/09
(Tricia Bock lives in the village of Nashville, Indiana. She has self published two books: Making a Life I Can Live and "47". Both are available at the local book store in Nashville.)
they share.
They are a sharing people.
They have to be.
Without this ability,
they could not publish their work,
or express their thoughts to an audience:
real or imagined.
Without sharing,
they could not read at an open mike night,
or at a writer’s group,
or even to their pet, if they would listen.
They may not see themselves this way.
Many write about being introverted,
then read that bit of writing to large groups,
in coffee houses,
at a library,
or in book stores.
They write about the struggles
of living life alone,
or of the solitary process
that being a writer is…
But without the ability to share the words,
they are truly alone in the world.
And the thing about writers is…
there are too many of us
for any of us
to be truly alone
in the world…
by Tricia Bock
5/6/09
(Tricia Bock lives in the village of Nashville, Indiana. She has self published two books: Making a Life I Can Live and "47". Both are available at the local book store in Nashville.)
Open Prayer for the Return of My Waistline
The girl scouts are gone, I shall not want...
They leadeth me to purchase large quantities of preservative-laden cookies,
they chant my name and beckon me near to work their evil task.
They restoreth my inability to resist temptation,
I purchase without thought of consequence...
Yeah, though I walk through the aisle farthest from their table,
they still spy me, their tiny faces beaming, all smiles and sincerity...
Forgive them their trespasses for they know not what they do...
And though I pass through the Slim Fast aisle, I will fear no evil...
my stepper and spandex await me...
as I offer this open prayer...
for the return of the waistline I once knew...
by Tricia Bock
Nashville Resident and Girl Scout Cookie Consumer
(Tricia Bock lives in the village of Nashville, Indiana. She has self published two books: Making a Life I Can Live and "47". Both are available at the local book store in Nashville.)
They leadeth me to purchase large quantities of preservative-laden cookies,
they chant my name and beckon me near to work their evil task.
They restoreth my inability to resist temptation,
I purchase without thought of consequence...
Yeah, though I walk through the aisle farthest from their table,
they still spy me, their tiny faces beaming, all smiles and sincerity...
Forgive them their trespasses for they know not what they do...
And though I pass through the Slim Fast aisle, I will fear no evil...
my stepper and spandex await me...
as I offer this open prayer...
for the return of the waistline I once knew...
by Tricia Bock
Nashville Resident and Girl Scout Cookie Consumer
(Tricia Bock lives in the village of Nashville, Indiana. She has self published two books: Making a Life I Can Live and "47". Both are available at the local book store in Nashville.)
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Penry’s Corner (Helmsburg, Indiana)
I remember Penry’s Corner
down the hill from school
We’d play the nickel pinball
generally act the fool
Slim would bring the burgers
Dale fixed the drinks
Ma served the french fries
and washed things in the sink
Buck had the local garage
he’d fix your car and more
Buckshot worked for his Dad
his Dad ran a store
There was Chitwood’s hardware
a Church just down the street
Train tracks ran behind the store
that was pretty neat
Paul sold gas and groceries
sandwiches and snacks
The Richards’ had a sawmill
on the hill out back
The post office was across the road
farms were all around
Helmsburg was a pretty nice place
a typical Hoosier town
Now the broom factory sells antiques
things that are old and odd
The Church is still in business
bringing people God
Chitwood’s is a storage barn
where you hide things you don’t need
No longer selling saddles
dryers and chickenfeed
The Masonic Lodge is a coffee shop
with Decaf dark and light
And there are still some farms around
somehow that seems right
A new sawmill fills Paul’s place
the old one grows in weeds
The Post Office deals in Lotteries
and snacks to fill your needs
Buck’s garage is leaning
It won’t last too long
There’s nothing going on now
somehow that seems wrong
Long’s grocery has fallen down
just a pile of wood
And there’s a house on the corner
Where Penry’s Diner stood.
Jim Campbell
Brown County, Indiana
(Jim was born on Smith Road in Brown County in 1940 and graduated from Helmsburg High in 1957, while Penry's Corner was still a functioning restaurant. He retired from the Nashville Post Office, where he was a Rural Letter Carrier. Now he mows grass at Salt Creek Golf Retreat in the Summer, "loafs" all Winter, and writes poems when an idea comes to him.)
down the hill from school
We’d play the nickel pinball
generally act the fool
Slim would bring the burgers
Dale fixed the drinks
Ma served the french fries
and washed things in the sink
Buck had the local garage
he’d fix your car and more
Buckshot worked for his Dad
his Dad ran a store
There was Chitwood’s hardware
a Church just down the street
Train tracks ran behind the store
that was pretty neat
Paul sold gas and groceries
sandwiches and snacks
The Richards’ had a sawmill
on the hill out back
The post office was across the road
farms were all around
Helmsburg was a pretty nice place
a typical Hoosier town
Now the broom factory sells antiques
things that are old and odd
The Church is still in business
bringing people God
Chitwood’s is a storage barn
where you hide things you don’t need
No longer selling saddles
dryers and chickenfeed
The Masonic Lodge is a coffee shop
with Decaf dark and light
And there are still some farms around
somehow that seems right
A new sawmill fills Paul’s place
the old one grows in weeds
The Post Office deals in Lotteries
and snacks to fill your needs
Buck’s garage is leaning
It won’t last too long
There’s nothing going on now
somehow that seems wrong
Long’s grocery has fallen down
just a pile of wood
And there’s a house on the corner
Where Penry’s Diner stood.
Jim Campbell
Brown County, Indiana
(Jim was born on Smith Road in Brown County in 1940 and graduated from Helmsburg High in 1957, while Penry's Corner was still a functioning restaurant. He retired from the Nashville Post Office, where he was a Rural Letter Carrier. Now he mows grass at Salt Creek Golf Retreat in the Summer, "loafs" all Winter, and writes poems when an idea comes to him.)
American Farmer
He had tobacco on his whiskers, stains were on his shirt
His boots were brown and dusty, from shuffling through the dirt
In his hands he held the reins, to a team of Belgian mares
His face was red and wrinkled, by his worries and his cares
Gonna plant some taters, some corn, and some beans
Feed them through the winter, live within their means
He cared for forty acres, bought it from his Dad
Never made much money, the farm is all he had
His brothers and his sister, left and went to school
When he stayed to run the farm, they thought he was a fool
He raised up his family there, his wife, a boy, a girl
They were all he needed, the farm was their world
Later on the kids were gone, and then his wife, she died
He sat on the front porch swing, drank coffee and he cried
He had done all he could, all that God had asked
Here he was all alone, and time was fading fast
Running down towards the end, like an hourglass full of sand
This old American farmer, the Hero of our land.
Jim Campbell
Brown County, Indiana
(Jim was born on Smith Road in Brown County in 1940 and graduated from Helmsburg High in 1957. He retired from the Nashville Post Office, where he was a Rural Letter Carrier. Now he mows grass at Salt Creek Golf Retreat in the Summer, "loafs" all Winter, and writes poems when an idea comes to him.)
His boots were brown and dusty, from shuffling through the dirt
In his hands he held the reins, to a team of Belgian mares
His face was red and wrinkled, by his worries and his cares
Gonna plant some taters, some corn, and some beans
Feed them through the winter, live within their means
He cared for forty acres, bought it from his Dad
Never made much money, the farm is all he had
His brothers and his sister, left and went to school
When he stayed to run the farm, they thought he was a fool
He raised up his family there, his wife, a boy, a girl
They were all he needed, the farm was their world
Later on the kids were gone, and then his wife, she died
He sat on the front porch swing, drank coffee and he cried
He had done all he could, all that God had asked
Here he was all alone, and time was fading fast
Running down towards the end, like an hourglass full of sand
This old American farmer, the Hero of our land.
Jim Campbell
Brown County, Indiana
(Jim was born on Smith Road in Brown County in 1940 and graduated from Helmsburg High in 1957. He retired from the Nashville Post Office, where he was a Rural Letter Carrier. Now he mows grass at Salt Creek Golf Retreat in the Summer, "loafs" all Winter, and writes poems when an idea comes to him.)
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Early Morning in Brown County
"Early Morning in Brown County"
Early morning mist
Drifts glowingly from the pond,
Silver, orange, and gold.
Silence all around
The sky lightens serenely.
A cardinal chirps.
The deer lifts its head,
The deer lifts its head,
Pauses near the glowing pond,
Its white tail twitches.
Early morning breeze
Sends the mists into the sky.
Sunshine bathes the world!
* * * * *
Share your poems, stories, or thoughts about Brown County, too. E-mail your writings to Sherri@AccuWritePro.com. We'll post them here.
* * * * *
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Living and Writing in Brown County, Indiana
For me, life in Brown County delivers new marvels every day: A speckled fawn crossing the dew-covered yard in the early morning. A nest of baby cardinals chirping for their evening meal beside my front porch. A blue-tailed lizard (five-lined skink) basking in the sunshine on the side deck. The frogs singing exuberantly from the pond a short distance from my house.
Life in Brown County moves at a slower pace. Perhaps this is so we can take the time to see and appreciate all this beauty that surrounds us each day!
I haven't always lived here, although I had visited often. I have relatives dating back to the 1800s buried in the tiny cemetery near Spearsville. We used to have family reunions in the churchyard next to that cemetery in northeastern Brown County.
The ebb and flow of life eventually carried me away to distant shores. But it also carried me back home to Indiana. Of all the places I've lived, Brown County has been the most idyllic.
This area is known for many things: an artists' colony -- past and present, with artists and artisans creating and crafting their visions; studios and galleries displaying those creations; the quaint shops, candy stores, and hearty restaurants of Nashville; a place to get away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life, a place to slow down, step back in time, and take it easy.
Brown County has something else, too. It has a wonderful community of writers. Here at Brown County Life, we will showcase the thoughts and reflections of local writers. E-mail your writings to Sherri@AccuWritePro.com. I'll be happy to post them here.
About me:
Sherri Perkinson Linsenbach is a writer, author, and editor, who is inspired each day by the hills and woods surrounding her home in Brown County, Indiana. She has worked with publishing companies from New York to Florida to California, and many points between.
Life in Brown County moves at a slower pace. Perhaps this is so we can take the time to see and appreciate all this beauty that surrounds us each day!
I haven't always lived here, although I had visited often. I have relatives dating back to the 1800s buried in the tiny cemetery near Spearsville. We used to have family reunions in the churchyard next to that cemetery in northeastern Brown County.
The ebb and flow of life eventually carried me away to distant shores. But it also carried me back home to Indiana. Of all the places I've lived, Brown County has been the most idyllic.
This area is known for many things: an artists' colony -- past and present, with artists and artisans creating and crafting their visions; studios and galleries displaying those creations; the quaint shops, candy stores, and hearty restaurants of Nashville; a place to get away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life, a place to slow down, step back in time, and take it easy.
Brown County has something else, too. It has a wonderful community of writers. Here at Brown County Life, we will showcase the thoughts and reflections of local writers. E-mail your writings to Sherri@AccuWritePro.com. I'll be happy to post them here.
About me:
Sherri Perkinson Linsenbach is a writer, author, and editor, who is inspired each day by the hills and woods surrounding her home in Brown County, Indiana. She has worked with publishing companies from New York to Florida to California, and many points between.
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