Brown Dog

Brown Dog

He had been driven on down the road

His coat was matted; I could see his bones

He was starving, and he moaned

I wondered how long Brown Dog had roamed

Eyes full of fear; a look so sad

His tail was tucked between his legs

Would I let him stay?

Would I drive him on?

How could his Master dump him here?

A pet so loyal . . . man’s best friend!

Only a monster could inflict such pain

On one so trusting and so tame

I could drive him farther on

It’s not my fault he has no home

I patted his head and talked to him

I asked him where he’d been

I fed him and let him lie

  on the porch; I went inside

Francene Hopkins
1994 (Copyright)

Life's Adverse Weather

Life's Adverse Weather

We embrace . . . I feel your touch

  my heart leaps with glee!

I don’t care what we do

  so long as we’re together

Hand-in-hand and heart-to-heart

Through life’s adverse weather

When storm clouds gather

You’re my shield . . . my protector

You’ll take care of me

Our lives to forever share

Heart and soul as we will travel

Through life’s adverse weather

Francene Hopkins

2/6/1996 (c)

The Oilfield--My Playground

The Oil Field--My Playground

The Attractive Nuisance:

I watched a video about oil field dangers in 2011. It was very sad and heart wrenching because it featured children being killed in oil fields. As a kid, I too hung out in an oil field next to the community where I lived in Oklahoma.  It wasn't fenced nor did it have signage. I climbed the ladders of the tanks and rode the pump jacks. It was an intriguing place, and it was my “get away”—and unbeknownst to me, a dangerous place.

I expected the video to include the hazard of chemical exposure, but there was no mention of this hazard. I’ve had uterine and thyroid cancers that I have attributed to being exposed to the dirty soil and waters on, and surrounding, the oil field property where I played as a child. My drinking water was from a well that very possibly could have been contaminated from the drilling of oil wells. I swam in a pond on the oil field property. I traipsed barefooted alongside, and in, the creek bed we called “The Sinking Place.”  That Sinking Place creek waters that ran alongside the oil field was always a place of adventure of which we kids were always searching. I ate the sheep showers and berries that grew wild in that oil field. I have fond memories of those times.

To have laws requiring the oil companies to put up fences and signage is the least our legislators can do to protect the children.  I was 6 years old when I started my trek through the oil fields and the Sinking Place.

Bear Bait

Bear Bait

Okay. You all are going to laugh at me, but that's okay...I laughed at myself. I finally broke down and joined a gym!

That's not the funny part. I hired a trainer. You know the type: Marine sergeant, or some such military type, who is used to whipping his troops into shape, and I could tell by the way he looked at me that I was going to be a challenge. I admit I needed a good whoopin into shape, but I was not real sure I was ready for commands and demands from a guy who was much younger and with an attitude.

The trainer started me on what he called an elliptical machine. Obviously, I am out of touch with the latest in gym equipment. I am familiar with the stair-stepper and the treadmill, but this elliptical thing, I am unfamiliar and unsure! It looked dreadful! My first thought was that it looks like one of those ski machines I'd heard about, except the motion of the feet was more like a circular rotation instead of sliding back and forth or up and down.

I can do this! I know I can do this! Determination was setting in. Tenacity! I'm totally psyched and ready to conquer the object in front of me. The daunting task of exercise.

So as I'm mounting the machine, the trainer said, “Your goal is 20 minutes.” I thought, ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I know my eyes were as big as saucers.  I told him I have one of those stationary bikes set up in front of my TV at home, and my goal was to ride through one commercial. He walked away fully expecting me to comply with his command, after all, he had given me a break! He usually starts trainees out with a 30-minute warm-up.

Well, I thought, surely I can easily do 20 minutes. After all, I am a walker, right? I used to walk 3 or 4 times a week at the gym, an hour at a time. I was a rapid walker back then, and surely, I must have walked the cardiovascular mile at the less than 15 minutes per mile clip. So I figured that, surely, I was walking 4 miles easily if I walked for an hour. That was a few years ago, though. Hmmmmm, let me see, 15 years ago? 20? Oh well, I am a walker!

I pushed myself and made it for 9 minutes...stopping every few peddle rotations, gasping for breath, before resuming for just a few more rotations! I was so determined, but, finally, I thought, “I going to die!” I quit. I’m not proud of it...I decided this is something I need to work up to--tomorrow--next week! When I stepped off the machine, my legs and back were so wobbly I could hardly stand, much less walk. I had to hold on to each machine in the row until I reached the front desk--where I had left my car keys--desperately trying not to look like I was suffering from oxygen deprivation. I was so embarrassed and so afraid one of those in-shape bods on the machines next to me would notice I was having such a hard time walking after having exercised only 9 minutes! But, besides that, I had parked the car in the back 40, and panic stricken, I wondered if I could ever make it to the car! I moved ever so slowly, unsure of each step. Whoof! I made it. When I got home, I was still wobbly, but oh so grateful to collapse in my recliner...in front of my tv...with my remote...breathing.

What was my motivation? you ask. Well it was this: my teammates at work decided to hike and picnic on the Grand Mesa while in Grand Junction, Colorado, for staff meetings with the big guys, the bosses. My guys challenged me to get into shape. This task was on my bucket list, so I had to do it! I'm thinking, I may be kicking the bucket!

My guys, all of whom are much younger, told me that I didn't have to be in the best of shape. All I have to do is out run the slowest person on our team...so the bears wouldn’t eat me! I'm thinking, "HEY! I AM THE SLOWEST RUNNER!" These guys are athletes, bike riders, marathon runners, triathlon participants! I'm a secretary with a mostly sedentary lifestyle. I'll show them! I'll cheat! However, I am a little suspicious as to why my guys chose to hike the Grand Mesa.

Truly, it was a team-building exercise. The four of us and our guide stuck together to ensure everyone was okay going up the rocky trail. As the air got thinner, breathing became more difficult. At 10,000 feet above sea level, I had to stop every few minutes, but my guys were gracious and never complained about my slowing them down. In fact, they were proud of my accomplishment and determination. Little did I know at the time that other company associates were wagering I would not make it to the top. Ha! I showed them!

The scenery was beautiful as we looked out over the valley below. We picnicked at the top of the Mesa, took pictures, and rested before a thunderstorm caused us to descend the mountain much faster than we had ascended, and I am glad to report that we did not encounter even one bear or snake.


The Grand Mesa is the largest flat-topped mountain in the world and is about 11,000 feet high. It is located above the desert in west-central Colorado.

Read more about the Grand Mesa: http://www.gorp.com/parks-guide/grand-mesa-national-forest-outdoor

"Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive, well preserved body...but rather to skid in sideways, cocktail in one hand, chocolate in the other, body thoroughly used up and worn out and screaming 'WOOHOO - what a ride!'" –author unknown

Francene Hopkins
July 2010 (c)

Starting Over

Starting Over

I'll pack old sorrows; place them on a shelf

sort my memories; shed last tears

and cast aside useless fears

I'll keep sweet memories and hang them high

freshen sweet dreams to brighten my sky

and place them well within my reach.

I'll wear reality, standing tall and proud

put on my smile; throw away my frown

and face tomorrow so clear now to see.

I'll lay out my plans one by one

hold on to friendships as I move on

and thank God above I've come so far--starting over

Francene Hopkins

12/7/1996

Tears that Never Dry

Tears that Never Dry

No greater pain can parents bear

Than passing from life their child

No greater grief, no reasons why

Their broken hearts scream, "It isn't right!"

For his path to end and leave behind

Tears that never dry

With grief they could hardly bear

God directs their footsteps on

As memories reflected

Memories shared

They laugh and cry

Tears that never dry

God comforts their hearts

Assuring one day

reunion with their son

For knowing Heaven is his home

They cling to precious memories

And cry happy

Tears that never dry

Their beloved has departed to his heavenly home

Where God and angels reside

Comfort and peace there abide

With pain no more

His tears God shall dry

Francene Hopkins
November 2013 (c)

Written for and dedicated to Mike and Donna Gomez
For the passing of their son
Daniel Gomez
November 3, 1964
November 2, 2013

One of these Days

One of these days

One of these days, I'll be able to sing
And I'll know all the words
I'll sing praises The Lord
One of these days
When I'm homeward bound
I'll sing with angels on high
I'll sing praiss to The Lord

Francene Hopkins
January 2013 (c)

You Travel to Places of Time already Spent

You Travel to Places of Time already Spent

I love to hear you laugh and see your smile
But laughter and smiles are becoming few and far between
As you travel to places of time already spent
To visit younger faces who reside there.

I await your return to me

to this place of time

to time yet to spend
On rough roads with many curves,

potholes, and dark crevices

you travel
wondering aimlessly

as I await

helplessly

If I could travel with you

to hold your hand

to guide you
to safety guide you

to where I am

I would
But where you go

I cannot follow

So I await your return

If only for short visits
For you are

my love

my life

my wife

I love to hear you laugh and see your smile

Francene Hopkins
2013 (c)
Revised 5/28/2014 (Copyright)

Written for and dedicated to my brother
for his wife who has dementia.

My Hero

My Hero

You were the strongest man

With arms of steel and vice-grip hands;

You are my Dad and my Friend . . .

My Hero

I would swing from your arms;

You would lift me off the floor.

My friends all looked up to you;

For me there was nothing you wouldn’t do.

You gave me time, and I knew

I could always count on you . . .

My Hero

Now that you’re Eighty-Three,

You’re still a giant to me.

I want you to know you’ll always be . . .

My Hero

Francene Hopkins

1994 (c)

Black Cloud Overhead

Black Cloud Overhead

The black cloud overhead

filled with lightning bolts of trouble
is a swirling tornado
that has chosen him to follow.

Lightning strikes the path he chooses
and burns every bridge he crosses.
The tornado wind left traces
of anger upon his face.

Now trouble touches all around him
damaging structures that once stood firm
slamming doors that once were open
and twisting friendships now forsaken.

He's facing yet another river
and wonders now how he'll cross over.
The bridge he burned still smolders,
and he wonders who will rebuild it.

He sees the black cloud overhead
with its lightning bolts of trouble
hurling its tornado wind toward him
and asks

"Why have you chosen me to follow?"

The black cloud looks down on him
with a menacing, mocking grin
swirling trouble all around him
and says

"That's for you to figure out!"

Francene Hopkins

2000 (c)

Crystal Heart

Crystal Heart

My crystal heart could not hold onto your love

For when you left, it shattered, creating a crystal cascade

And like water from a broken glass, your love just flowed away.

Francene Hopkins

March 20, 1996 (c)

Ol' Betsy

Ol’ Betsy

“Ol’ Betsy,” that’s what Daddy called her:

His ‘49 Ford pickup truck.

Dark green body and standard shift,

We rode ‘round town without a miss.

Far from home we would travel,

Dad and Mom and me and Brother.

Arriving in a stately fashion--

We followed the jobs of Daddy’s union

Remember camping under a tall oak tree?

And swimming in the creek?

Ol’ Betsy became our bed that night.

Remember the stars?  Remember the quiet?

Remember the haunted house and the apple tree?

Remember the screech owl we couldn’t see?

We were convinced it was a mountain lion!

Remember sleeping on the floor,

As down the road Ol’ Betsy roared?

Remember smells of oil?

Of windshield wipers flapping?

And Ol’ Betsy’s headlights shining down the road

Showing Daddy which way to go?

Do you remember these things, Brother?

Or have you gotten much too old?

Ol’ Betsy and you are the same age, you know!

Remember your dear, sweet, YOUNGER sister?

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BROTHER!  I LOVE YOU!

February 26, 1996 (c)

Four-yr-old David in his peddle car next to Ol' Betsy

God's Precious Gift

God’s Precious Gift

When he was born, I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

His tiny hand clutched my finger and my heart swelled with pride.

It was hard to believe he came from me, and I was afraid.

I watched him grow, and I marveled at the things he’d done.

He would be all I couldn’t be . . . he could be President of this great country.

I still couldn’t believe he came from me, and I was afraid.

My love for this child as he grew to a man multiplied over the years.

Through all the pains of adolescence and all the mistakes of motherhood,

Of one thing he was certain, I loved him very much . . . even though I was afraid.

Francene Hopkins

9-22-95

Roller Coaster Infinity--The Ride of Her Life

Roller Coaster Infinity—The Ride of Her Life

A family poor from whence she came

To rear her own would be the same:

How does one teach what one does not know?

For not for not lack of love
As her love she does show

And day after day, her love still grows

For not lack of effort
As her effort is great

And effort, it seems, cannot change her fate

The cycle of life continues on

Roller Coaster Infinity—The Ride of Her Life

For not lack of dreams
For her dreams are all grand

But dreams, it seems, cannot save her plan

As one by one, her dreams all fail

Her life to continue to race the rails

For not lack of intelligence
As as she quickly learns
It's not what you know
It's who's in control!

For not lack of hope
As to hope she clings

To safe her children
So they may escape

Roller Coaster Infinity—The Ride of their Lives

Francene Hopkins
Copyright 1996

Picture Puzzle

Like pieces to a puzzle,

            I’m disconnected.

Scattered and missing pieces

            have left large holes in my picture.

There’s almost nothing left to see

            of the woman I used to be,

and I wonder if the pieces remaining

            are even worth saving.

I long for the days

            when life was so simple--

            when the I was complete.

If one more piece should fall away,

            I fear I shall always be . . .

            incomplete.

Francene Hopkins

August 15, 1996 (c)

A Sad Day

Sleeping Beauty has opened her eyes;

Her life filled with deceit and lies.

The Handsome Prince never came.

Now, who was she to blame?

Oh, what a sad day, in deed;

Beauty is awake and sees.

It’s time to get out of bed.

Can Beauty ever raise her head?

Wishes of love have gone by way,

And Ugly Truth has come to stay.

Nothing to do but face Ugly Truth:

“Beauty has lost her youth.”

Francene Hopkins

1991

A Secret

A secret’s a secret if kept to oneself,

so don’t be sore if you tell someone else—

who in turn tells her ten “best friends!”

So . . .

If you should ever hear it again

From another one of your “best friends,”

REMEMBER—AND DON’T BE ANGRY—

You were the one who first disclosed

A delicate matter best untold.

Francene Hopkins

3/28/96

Study

Now that you’re analyzing others

Because off to school you have taken

Psychology, your course of study chosen

And new words at home you’re quotin’

It’s the testing to which I’m objectin’

Our son you  say has a problem:

              “Desatellization” you’ve determined

If you’re thinking I’m “difficile”

Just you wait a little while

To “capitulate” is out of the question

But my dictionary I’ll keep handy

Until this crazy stage has ended!

Well, Let me tell you how I’m feelin’

It’s insane I’ve been driven!

But forgiveness I will grant to you

But heretofore FORBID further analyzation!

You’re not a doctor . . . not quite yet!

And a lot you havta learn, I bet!

Especially, if it’s better terms

              you’re hopin for our home

You’ve kept me on my toes, it’s true

And I want you to know this part too

I’m just as proud as I can be

              Of my husband and his study

Francene Hopkins

10/10/95 (c)

Dedicated to Donna Blades

We Didn’t Want to Say Good-bye

I’m your aunt whom you hardly knew

I’m not that much older than you

but I remember when you were born

and the day they brought you home

I have a son, now, of my own

my son whom you will never know

I didn’t want to say good-bye.

I loved you right from the start

my first grandson who

tugged the strings of my heart

And who was to carry on the Reynolds' name

As it was, oh, so important to me

I’m your Grandpa, and so many things

I wanted to share:

my love for music

how to change a tire

and all the little things a grandpa shares

with his grandson so dear

I didn’t want to say good-bye

At fifteen you left us too soon

I’m your Granny who called you Trey

because you were the third Reynolds to carry the name:

Samuel Garland Reynolds III

Your Jaguar, I heard them say
Reached a speed of 130 
When you lost control 
And hit a tree

I remember holding your tiny hands

when you were just a babe

I didn’t want to say good-bye.

I’m your step-mom

Who would have treated you as my own.

You were welcome anytime in our home 

And welcome to make it your own.

You have a baby sister
You should have known

Sadly, her only brother she'll never know

I did not want to say good-bye.

I'm your sister, the eldest in our home
Our dad told me about you

and when we finally met at school

I was proud to meet my brother

We were close, but now I cry

I didn’t want to say good-bye

I had the biggest dreams

that one day we would be a team

I would teach you baseball, football

and how to catch

the biggest catfish in the lake.

I had it planned that one day
We would camp underneath a tree.

So many things I wanted to teach

as only a dad can teach his son

Oh, how I grieve that chance is gone

For today

I did not want to say good-bye

At times we watched you from afar

On the playground or in town
And we wondered if you ever knew

There was another family
who loved you so very much
We were not ready to say goodbye

Dedicated to The Reynolds Family in memory of Trey, May 31, 1996

Francene Hopkins
June 3, 1996 (c)

         Stick Horse

When he was home, he’d watch me play

But, I knew when he went away

He’d come home with a pocket of money

And we could write some check

He thought it funny when he’d call home

To hear the same request:

“Daddy, buy me a horse!”

A sight to see, my dad and me:

My cowboy boots and kerchief, too

His Khaki blue and steel-toed shoes

We’d go hand in hand

Then, I’d ride away on my pretend horse.

My pretend horse was a just stick;

I’d gallop along and shoot my guns

And Daddy would call to me

“Ride em Cowgirl!  Shoot em up!”

To this day, I can hear him say,

“Now, what would you do with a horse?”

“I’d ride and play, and I’d scare away

            the bad guys in this yard!”

He’d laugh at me, but it was plain to see

I wasn’t getting a horse.

In my dreams I’d stand real tall

            On my bareback horse!

He’d run so fast,

            No one could catch

            The leader of this gang!

And when I’d awake, I’d run to see

If Daddy got that horse for me!

Francene Hopkins

May 19, 1996 ©

War Rages On

War rages deep within my Soul,

With Mystery there to unfold,
A Bomb-Shelled Battleground created
By Outrageous Acts Untold.

Sadly Dreams are weakened
And fade into the night
While Hope refuses to surrender
And rallies for the fight.

Truth is held hostage
By Lies and Hideous Sins
Who hope to crush all Effort
To rescue the Child Within.

Life Blood flows to secret places
Deep within my heart
Carrying tiny footprint traces
And sounds of cries forlorn.

My Heart is wounded;
Blood is spilling;
My eyes stare blankly on
While Bombs illuminate Dark Sectors
To loosen Secret’s hold.

Fallacious Reasoning rushes in
Feigning his defense
Of the Child who’s barely hanging
To all that’s just pretend.

Reality quickly makes his move;
To Truth, he shouts,
"BE KNOWN!"

But Life Blood rushes through my veins
Carrying deep within my Soul
Secret’s lies to which Comfort clings
And refuses to let go.

War rages on.

Francene Hopkins

May 19, 1995 ©