Fall

FALL PHOTO SHOOT

Happy Fall!!

I hope you're all enjoying the rain :)

Thank You!

Rebekah Stokes

Author of BeKaH's Blog

Flat Tire

Stuck on a mountain top. 
Fuming about tires that go POP.
You may not notice, but the view's great.
Might as well resign yourself to Fate. 
Seeing as the spare tire has faded into thin air. 
Hopefully this spot isn't to near any bear's lair. 
Find your inner woodsmen! Attack those trees! 
Or you could put your thumb up and ask a friendly driver 'Please?' 

Wait a minute.
Hold that thought. 
Wife just got you to read the  manual.  
Load of rubbish, the lot. 
But, as she's pointed out. 
This silly book doesn't just give you a throbbing head. 
There's the spare tire, hiding away! 
You tell your wife ' I was going to say.....' 
Two eyes roll in their sockets. 
But you hardly notice, your feet feel like rockets.
Ready to blow you up, up, up. 
A blissful feeling of floating on air.

Wait a minute. 
Hold that thought. 
Wife better be adept at changing tires
Because you're  most certainly not! 



PostScript 
This is based on a true occurrence that happened on the way down
from Thanksgiving weekend in Kelowna. Though my father can change tires, he has a 
strange allergic reaction to all written instructions of any sort :) 

Thank you! 
Rebekah Stokes 
Author of BeKaH's Blog

I'M EXCITED!!!!!

I'm EXCITED!
Can't really describe it 
One minute, 
Nervous
Next minute,
Flying on air

My chest is filled with a storm 
A lot more feeling than the norm
Trying to keep in form

But I'm EXCITED!

It's really difficult,
To keep my pencil straight
I feel like a horse,
ready to surge out of the gate

I'm EXCITED!

My heart is beating at a very high rate 
Starting to think,
what's happening is, something like Fate.

I know it won't be easy
What I'm about to do

But still,
I'm feel EXCITED!
It's a FABULOUS feeling
and I hope YOU'll feel it one day too!


Thank you! 
Rebekah Stokes
Author of BeKaH's Blog

THE LITTLE PUDDLE

This is a concrete poem. A concrete poem is a poem in the shape of something. My concrete poem is in the shape of a, rather lumpy, puddle :)Since you  probably won't be able to read the actual writing in the photo (above), I have provided the actual poem by itself below.  I hope you  like it!

THE LITTLE PUDDLE 

(I seem to write about rain and the consequences of rain, a LOT. Probably because I live in a rain forest in the Lower Mainland of British Columbia :0) 

Today the  clouds satisfy the little puddle, before, so very dry. With lots and lots of little drops from the top of the sky. They travel down in a straight descent and land safe and sound in the little puddle, on impact creating a little bubble. The wet pleases all ground around, and soon, the once dry stream runs. So all are happy, at least until the nasty sun comes and snatches all the little raindrops away. Leaving not a cloud in the sky, and all the little puddles dry and the ground's fertileness nowhere to be found, and there stream fast losing what it so quickly gained in the RAIN. But until then,

 the LITTLE PUDDLE 

Can be happy.

CRICKETS

Crickets making their melodies often switch to different keys.

Sometimes they sound like a potbellied man burping.

Sometimes like a blue bird calling.

Sometimes like a frog grumbling.

Sometimes like the sound of a running brook.

But most times the music they play is their own divine song that as people say, can only be described as...

The Cricket's Chirping.

Rebekah Stokes

Author of BeKaH's Blog

BOOK

Hi! Here's another Acrostic,  I hope you enjoy it! 

Bored as bored, as bored can be, sitting in an 

Oak tree, with nothing to do but stare at my toes,

Obediently trying to entertain me, how I long for the 

Knitted together words on paper, so crisp, which I turn with my fingertips, how I long for a BOOK.

Thank you!

Rebekah Stokes

Author of BeKaH's Blog

My Pets

 I am learning about Acrostic Poems this week. 

An acrostic poem looks like this-

An Acrostic Poem involves 

Carefree writing, no

Rhyming

Only make 

Sure each 

Time you start a new line 

It begins with the letters of your word

Certainly you would enjoy writing ACROSTIC Poems!

                                                ^

So it ends up looking like that |

Just thought I'd explain it first :)

Now sit back, relax and read about my all very different, and  all very interesting animals :)!

SUGAR

So susceptible 

Unaffected by most things

Getting food and cuddles is 

All he requires

Right at home in every lap, Sugar is always ready to take a nap! 

TAFFY

Totally unaware

Always getting into trouble (and mud)

Facing being left behind is her greatest 

Fear

Yep, that's our Taffy, and (though some of us may deny it) we all love her!

MOHAWK (MOE FOR SHORT) 

Making her way 

Over branch and under log

Happy to go where none have trod 

Acing every obstacle 

Worldly 

Keen for a hunt, however, is not above snuggling into a lap :)

Thank you!

Rebekah Stokes

Author of BeKaH's Blog

IT'S RAINING.

PLOP. PLOP. PLOP. PLOP.

wet bits dropping from the sky.

HOP. HOP. HOP. HOP.

bouncing over stones.

STOP. STOP. STOP. STOP.

ending in a puddle.

SWISH. SWISH. SWISH. SWISH.

here comes the wind.

PUSH. PUSH. PUSH. PUSH.

there goes the clouds.

SHOOT. SHOOT. SHOOT. SHOOT.

the sun pierces the puddles.

"HEY. HEY. HEY. HEY."

RAIN: "I'll come again another day!"

Rebekah Stokes
Author of BeKaH's Blog

WHO IS JESUS (STILL NOT DEBUT)

Hi! Here's the third 'Who is Jesus' and it's still not a debut! :)
I hope you like this one!!! :)

Rebekah. R. Stokes

BeKaH's Blog 

HOPE......

is seeing a beak pop out of egg you gave up on

 is hearing the doctor say the words "she'll be fine"

is finding a ray of sunlight in the middle of the storm 

is discovering you don't have to fight anymore

is seeing dirty face poke out of a heavy pile

IS JESUS 

Rebekah Stokes

Author of 'BeKaH's Blog' 

Only A Dandelion

A middle aged man in a grey tailored suit abruptly steps off a city bus. He doesn't look up from his device. Suddenly he smiles. A message has just come in, he has been promoted. 

A young woman in a mink coat tiredly steps out of a limousine. She looks around. Suddenly she smiles. A man with a note pad and a camera is running up to her.

A old woman stiffly steps onto a sidewalk. She looks around. Suddenly she smiles. A little dandelion has managed to grow in one of the cracks of the hard concrete.

Rebekah Stokes :)
Author of 'BeKaH's Blog'

Your Story

Some people write about depression. Some write about joy. Some enjoy mystery. 

Some deploy something deep inside to make their stories land on bookstore's shelves worldwide. 

Some take a pen into nature. 

Some succumb to the lure of the fireplace and the hot chocolate taste. 

Some just go where a thing called inspiration whisks them. 

Some will sit down, write and be done. 

Some write for political purposes.

 Some write for carefree children.  

Some listen for their story. Some look for their story. Some learn their story. 

All of us can write. 

By human standards, some better than others. 

By God standards, everyone writes the way he made them to write.

We all have a story. What you may ask? 

The answer would be, 

YOU. 

Your life is a story, worth telling. Because God is the ultimate story maker. 

And guess what? 

He also made,

YOU. 

Thank YOU!
Rebekah Stokes
Author of BeKaH's Blog

what you hear in the front seat of a car (not my most inspired title!)

It is amazing what you can hear if you sit in the front seat of a car long enough. 

For instance, an off tune rendition of ‘Amazing Grace’.  Someone explaining, in an English peasant accent, how to win a trip to ‘Go Bananas’. Also a good example, two young voices whispering about some scheme about to be revealed in the next few minutes. A new nickname being tested, and rebuked. A discussion about the supposably ‘purple puke’ found beside the river on garbage clean-up day. An awed voice exclaiming about the tree lined drive that is being driven through. Two high pitched giggles omitted from the very back of the car. A conversation of some rusted treasure found in the midst of hide and seek. A newly developed dialect evolving with laughing at the end of each sentence. A tune hummed with words soon to be added. A talk of how popular so in so is for creating movies in. A  topic of weddings becomes a talk of how 'unpredictable the weather is around here'. An attempt at the drama exercises you taught your little sister go horribly wrong. You are interrupted in from your writing by the remark “ You have issues”. You offer a few sharp remarks of your own and then having silenced the various voices of doubt, you resume.  Now on the subject of writing, a new book idea is started with the intention of seeing how easy it is to write a certain authors books and advice asked on that subject from the all knowing aunty. A mix of voices fades away as the directions for getting out of the car are uttered and the engine’s noise slowly drains away. Doors are opened and eager feet jump out. A reminder of possessions that must be taken in or face consequences. Soon all the hubbub is transferred to the great outdoors and all that is left is the fast clicking of keys labeled with letters, numbers and signs. The fingers that press these keys must soon depart, for the others are not the only ones who long for the fresh, clean air that is found in a forest full of cedars.  A cry of your name is sounded and, slightly reluctantly, you oblige the speaker and leave the calm, peaceful atmosphere, so unlike a few minutes ago, sitting in the front seat of the car, hearing all your two ears could take, quite possibly more!

Rebekah Stokes
Author of BeKaH's Blog

a dark stormy night

a plane flies by in the pristine blue sky
a bird follows suit
his mother behind him chirping
"Come back soon, dinner is almost ready, boiled newt!"

a chipmunk streaks by
a greedy look in her wide, brown eyes

a wind blows
the tree tries to flick away
the woodpecker
who's been tapping incessantly all day

a mole hurries to dig his hole
a raindrop falls
with more ready to follow

a worm starts his long crawl
as a cat swaggers along at a leisurely pace
an attempt to save face
as a brown speckled mouse disappears underground

the white fluffy clouds begin to drift away
done for the day
however, instead of the bright twinkling guardians of the night
a wall of grey takes their place 
discouraging unkindly any who attempt to give light

the wind 
before just a gentle breeze
now starts to release
a powerful wheeze

the little bird returns home
and his mother sings a little tune
as she shuts the shutters
and dares the door to open 

FOR WHAT IS A STORMY NIGHT GOOD FOR, EXCEPT TO TO CUDDLE UP AND SNORE AWAY?

the chipmunk now fed on all her stolen loot
amongst which some boiled newt
pulls the blanket tighter
and eyes her rubber boots

FOR WHAT IS A STORMY NIGHT GOOD FOR, EXCEPT TO FIND MORE TO DECORATE HER TREE?

the mole now safe in his hole
pulls out his flute

FOR WHAT IS A STORMY NIGHT GOOD FOR, EXCEPT TO DANCE AWAY?

the worm
with all his friends
now on the hard concrete
begins to sigh 

FOR WHAT IS A STORMY NIGHT GOOD FOR, EXCEPT TO REMEMBER THE SUNSHINE?

the cat
having gotten over his defeat
proceeds to curl up at his mistress' feet

FOR WHAT IS A STORMY NIGHT GOOD FOR, EXCEPT TO PRETEND TO BE FRIGHTENED AND GET AN EXTRA TREAT?


oh what is a stormy night good for, except to think of all of these?


Rebekah Stokes
author of BeKaH's Blog

the things in a puddle

the things in a puddle

----------------------------------

Most of the time, when you look in a puddle

everything is just a muddle

however

if you go outside on a sunny day

when the birds are chirping away

and the sky

oh the sky

then 

my friend

and 
only 
then

do you see what a puddle is really meant to be

when it reflects all the 

gorgeous creations 

of God

when it shows 

the sun shining bright

the clouds

all fluffy and white

the tippy tops 

of 

the 

tallest trees

maybe even a bee

making it's buzzing sound

all that

in this puddle

just

 floating around 

and 

you 

realize

that a puddle 

is really just

a 

window

in 

the 

ground.

Rebekah Stokes

Author of 'BeKaH's Blog'