Who is Norma Budden?

When you wake up in the morning, can you anticipate everything a day will bring forth? Can you predict that a day which starts out with great difficulty will end the same way, or that a day which begins with happiness will end with the same? No! You can't.

From one moment to another, you don't know what you will encounter, and that's what makes life so interesting! There are times you want to be gentle as a dove or as peaceful as a lamb. Albeit, during other times, you want to growl like a tiger, or roar like a lion, depending on what gets thrown your way.

Nonetheless, life is made up of a series of actions and reactions; how you react to a situation, today, can influence how you will feel tomorrow!

I wrote this poem for Owen a short while ago and, even now, it fills my heart with thanksgiving, knowing I've found where I belong; I've found "home."

Perfect Man

Perfection's over-rated;
There's no way to improve
I couldn't imagine living
In such an awful groove.

But thinking of a perfect man
Is quite another matter.
It conjures up loving thoughts;
My heart - it doesn't shatter.

At long last, I've met this man;
He's perfect, or so it seems.
Though he claims to have his faults
I believe he's from my dreams.

He holds my bags when shopping
And waits patiently for me.
He rubs my aching shoulders
Then sits me on his knee.

He wraps his arms around me
When we go for walks at night.
He tells me that he loves me,
That everything's now right.

He looks into my troubled soul
And watches when tears fall.
He doesn't judge for yesterday;
Instead, he hears me when I call.

He stares into my open eyes -
Those windows to my soul.
He sees how much I love him;
It's then he becomes whole.

Copyright Norma Budden 2009

My daughters and I went to Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada in March, 2006, for a spring vacation; we stayed at the Place Louis Riel for three nights on the 17th floor.

The last night we stayed there, with curtains wide open, I looked through the windows. I saw lights on in various offices and saw vehicles going to and fro.

I began to wonder what was going on in the lives of the people I was watching, while they didn't know I existed. Of course, I wouldn't recognize them, not having seen them up close, and having watched them under the cover of darkness. Yet, I wondered about them - about the lives they led.

It spurred me to write this poem and I thought I would share it with you.

Twinkling Lights

Twinkling lights of the city
while darkness shines its face.
What's happening in the streets -
are they filled with hate, or grace?

The cars I now see driving by -
what's happening inside?
Do the people love each other
or does someone feel denied?

Offices aglow everywhere-
the lives many people lead.
Do they love to always work
or does home meet no need?

Twinkling lights of the city.
So much we do not know.
Let us not be quick to judge
so good seeds we can sow.

Norma Budden
Copyright 2006

Once in a while, we meet people who make a wonderful impact upon our lives; these people come in all shapes and sizes, all genders, from all walks of life. We don't necessarily prefer one over another but, instead, share special relationships with all of them.

These are some of the people whom I would like to pay tribute to, people who've enhanced my life in one way or another:

Nan Nichol
Pictured to the right is a photo of my maternal grandmother, Winnie Nichol, whom I consider one of the greatest people in my life. She has enriched my life in so many areas that I can probably write a book in trying to convey just how much she means to me. However, a few words here shall have to suffice.

Nan's home was open to everyone; family, friends, and strangers. Anyone who was in need knew where they could go to find a night's rest or a warm meal. The clock was never a firm dictator, unless it was time for church services or the convenience store was about to close.

Never one to judge me, regardless of what I shared with her about my thoughts and feelings, she endeared herself to me even further as I grew older. Even when she may not have agreed with every decision I had made, she always made it seem she was on my side.

If there is one regret, it's that we did not have an opportunity to travel together. She loved hearing about the places I visited and always wished she had been younger so she could have traveled to some of those places with me. Her eyes lit up at the stories I told and I could see her mind spinning, trying to imagine the places and experiences I spoke of.

Now, she is advancing in years and her memory isn't what it used to be, which brings a level of sorrow into my heart. However, I can only hang on to the memories we did share and treasure them for what they are: memories of wonderful times shared with a person I love deeply.

Ahmad, you are far too busy...you have overextended yourself in your obligations and responsibilities...but, regardless, you remain a dear friend even if I have to guess, at times, what you are up to.

You make me laugh...you're a great listener...you're a great poet and critic of my poetry...and, ultimately, a great friend who has a special place in my heart.