skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Hire "Just Music!" Reasonable rates for special events: dinners, parties, receptions, weddings.
Caesar sits waiting to come in
Caesar loves piano in the morning
Casear with me on his last day
Caesar carries in the paper one last time
Bogey thinks he's a lapdog
Inside on his first day, gaining trust
Here's to being 70!
"Spring Colic," my own painting of Walt and Oasis, our Egyptian Arabian mare
Working on Russell reproduction
Finished Charlie Russell now hangs in my livingroom.
at Crater Lake
First ride for our Peruvian mare
I used to sit and hold up my small hand
Original prose and poetry.
Important Links
My Business Card
Hire "Just Music!" Reasonable rates for special events: dinners, parties, receptions, weddings.
Beautiful Caesar
Caesar sits waiting to come in
Rebecca and Caesar
Caesar loves piano in the morning
Caesar on lawn
Casear with me on his last day
Caesar's last day
Caesar carries in the paper one last time
Walt & Bogey Bear
Bogey thinks he's a lapdog
Bogey Bear with Walt
Inside on his first day, gaining trust
Rebecca
Here's to being 70!
Gouache and Water Color
"Spring Colic," my own painting of Walt and Oasis, our Egyptian Arabian mare
In My Studio
Working on Russell reproduction
Old Master Painted Reproduction
Finished Charlie Russell now hangs in my livingroom.
About Me
- Rebecca Just Wagner
- Oregon, United States
- SILVERADO QUARTET: CONTACT information: EMAIL: silveradoquartet@gmail.com or call our lead, Hope Bridges, on her cell at 541-604-9752. QUARTET MEMBERS: Rebecca Wagner, Tenor; Debi Fooks, Bass; Hope Bridges, Lead; Sharon Leutschaft, Baritone. We sing a cappella barbershop style harmony with a varied repertoire including old favorites, and many humorous numbers. We sing the National Anthem in an original arrangement by our former baritone to open sports and other events in the Central Oregon area. We can fill up an hour time slot for private parties, fundraisers, fairs, and other events in our area. ........................................................................ WINE AND ROSES blog is for REBECCA'S personal prose and poetry, music and art. I paint original "estate portraits" and do Old Master painted reproductions. REBECCA is also an IMPROV PIANO PLAYER available to hire for background piano music for any event. I have a repertoire of thousands of songs, encompassing over 100 years and many genres. TO BOOK REBECCA'S PIANO, call 541-447-4899, or my cell at 503-507-4370.
Walt and me
at Crater Lake
Rebecca on Grace
First ride for our Peruvian mare
POETRY GALLERY
MY GRANDFATHER'S HANDS
To his; it seemed so powerful, so grand.
The pointing finger on his hand is bent.
He used to tell me of the accident
That long ago had given him the flaw;
I'd listen, looking at it, held in awe.
A lumberman he was when time was kind;
Now we must watch him closely, or we'll find
Him mowing his own lawn, or chopping wood,
And we must tell him, gently, "Gramp, be good
And let us finish this. You've done enough."
Large hands, once calloused, strong, and rough,
Relax. White, trembling slightly, they will hook
In his suspenders as he stands to look
At us. If only we would let him be,
He's sure that he could do as well as we.
And thus it is that as we older grow,
The younger generations come to know
The same protective feelings, just as fine;
Too soon, the white and trembling hands be mine,
And I will be the Nana children seek
To help, when they perceive these hands as weak.
Rebecca Just Wagner
first part written at age 18
as an exercise in iambic pentameter;
second part at age 60.
_________________________________
IN MEMORY OF OUR CAMP CARETAKER, Encounter with a Big, Mean Hunter
Rebecca Just Wagner, 1998
We met him on the road one day,
His scraggly, grizzled beard the way
It always was, his eyes blue-gray
And bright with mirth. He stopped to say
In gravel tones, with eyes that danced:
"Now, I'm a Big, Mean Hunter!"
He slouched half-in, half-on his truck,
A battered Ford as out of luck
As He was; both were brown with much
In wrinkles soap would never suck
Pristine, but glowing eyes that danced
Laughed: "I'm a Big, Mean Hunter!"
His face was lined, his voice was gruff,
His clothing old, and worn, and rough.
He never seemed to have enough
Of anything. He postured tough,
A killer born; but eyes that danced
Glared: "I'm a Big, Mean Hunter!"
He's seen a fox, or three or four,
A family he said, it tore
Him up to watch how struly sore
Their frantic hunger. Furthermore -
But then he stopped, and eyes that danced
Lied: "I'm a Big, Mean Hunter!"
He fed the fox! Confessed it true,
But didn't want to think we knew
How soft his heart, and so on cue
He growled again, his twinkling blue
Eyes showing us a soul that danced:
"But I'm a Big, Mean Hunter!"
/div>
We met him on the road one day,
His grizzled, scraggly beard the way
It always was, his eyes blue-gray
And bright with mirth. We heard him say
In gravel tones, with eyes that danced,
"Now I'm a big, mean hunter!"
He'd seen some fox, a vixen, cubs;
He laughed and told us how he loved
To watch them foraging for grub
Behind his hand-hewn house, the hub
Of his world. Then though eyes denied,
Said, "I'm a big, mean hunter!"
He fed the fox! Admitted true,
But didn't want to think we knew
How soft his heart, and so on cue
He said again, his twinkling blue
Eyes showing us a soul that danced,
"But I'm a big, mean hunter!"
Rebecca Just Wagner, reworked 2010
_______________________________
REFLECTIONS ON OUR RETIREMENT
We're retired now, they say;
We laugh about that every day.
Some mornings we'll be at the gym,
To keep us limber, fit and trim.
Then trips to Portland, we both teach,
And home-based businesses for each.
Grandkids' birthday gifts to track;
Wood to chop, and split, and stack;
Prunes to pick, and dry, and stew,
Cherries, pears, and apples, too!
Meals to cook, and pies to bake;
Lawns to mow, or leaves to rake.
Clothes to wash, and bills to pay;
Throw the horses flakes of hay,
Feed the llamas, cats, and sheep;
Gutters to clean, and floors to sweep.
With three big dogs, our closest friends,
Retirement? Work never ends!!
Rebecca Just Wagner, 2002
____________________________
ODE TO A CHRISTMAS CANARY
I think that I have never heard
A sound as joyous as the bird
Song my canary shares with me each day;
The perfect antidote to cold,
To snow and freezing wind, I hold
Within my heart the warmth he brings my way.
He hops, and skips, and tweets, and trills,
And fills the house with wondrous thrills
Of gay abandon, happy as you please;
One tiny little orange Flirt
Can banish fear, and gloom, and hurt
As effortlessly as a summer breeze.
I listen to the songs he sings,
And dream of lush and verdant springs,
The simple pleasures anyone can find;
Amid the rush of daily life,
The hustle and the hurtful strife,
One singing bird - a symbol for mankind.
For people have a lot to learn,
And would do well to pause, and turn
Our energies into a new endeavor;
Yes, it is happiness I hear
In birdsong, and a simple cheer
For living! May he sing to me forever!
Rebecca Just Wagner
First Place, Oregon,
Second Place, National,
GFWC, 1991
_____________________
No comments:
Post a Comment