This page, WRITE TO A PICTURE, is an invitation to our regular writers and to our visitors. Send an original poem, a story, or your recollections. Share your thoughts and experiences with those who like to READ what others write. Send to me at LaraOct7@aol.com.

 Early 'Write To A Picture' pages are archived. The links are here:

Beach Scene "1" Old Train Station "2"
The Carousel "3" The Fifties "4"
Summer Picnic "5" From The Heart "6"
Cloudy Moon "7" September Morn "8"
Passing The Time "9" Apples "10"
Rain "11" Pumpkins "12"
Halloween "13" Big City "14"
Remembrance Day "15" Autumn Harvest "16"
A Cozy Nook "17" Migration "18"
The Kitchen On Memory Lane "19" Holding Hands "20"
Indoor Gardening "21" Playing In The Snow "22"
Bonding With Children "23" Old House "24"
The General Store "25" Friends and Friendships "26"
Kitchen Window "27" ~Reserved~



 


Kitchen Window

By Marilyn (LaraOct7@aol.com)







The featured picture is my kitchen window. I have eleven orchids in my window, and right now most are in bloom. The wooden plant stand was a gift from my father who made it in 1979. If you look through the window, you'll see snow on the ground. It was eleven degrees this morning and it wasn't much warmer at eight o'clock when I took the picture.

One of the things I like best about my home is my kitchen window and the winter sunshine. I can sit at the table with a hot cup of tea and watch the Mockingbird that sits in the shrubbery eating berries. I can watch the children who come with their sleds to slide down the slope on the side of our house. On summer afternoons when it's hot outside, I close the drapes and enjoy the filtered light. By then I've moved my orchids outside where they get high humidity and indirect light.

What do you see through your kitchen window? What do you keep on your window sill? What do you remember about your mother's kitchen window that you'd like to share? Your grandmother's kitchen window? Ficton or fact, we look forward to your entry.






 


Marilyn's Kitchen Window

By Bob (C1ydeBunky@aol.com)





Looking from the kitchen window
Nature at your beck and call
World is at your fingertips
Where you may envision all


Sights abound of earthly pleasures
Seasons pass and play their scenes
Eyes assailed by many colors
Seasons' whites and browns and greens


Life is good outside the window
As inside you pass the time
Knowing all is well by viewing
the mundane to the sublime


Nature's creatures give you pleasure
As do children playing near
Though at times the cold may chill you
Brightness of the sun will cheer


All in all that window shows
The loveliness you make within
Matching well the outward beauty
That your window invites in









 


Kitchen Window Wonders

By Mary Carter Mizrany(MusingByMary@aol.com)





The window in my kitchen
keeps world out or brings inside . . .
with squirrels ascampering about
child takes a bicycle ride ~


Mockingbird in treetop oblivious
of doggies playing near . . .
sings the most melodious songs
for my listening ear ~


Barren Silver Leaf Maple tree
and Hibiscus await Springtime . . .
just around the corner now
Mother Nature will sing her rhyme ~


Transforming Winter's cold visage
to Spring's refreshing view . . .
Robin with your peachy breast
I've seen a few of you ~


Soon hummingbird's will flutter
sipping nectar round my feeder . . .
like dive~bombers having dogfights
they'll be playin' follow~the~leader ~


Upon my kitchen windowsill
two cats peer through the pane . . .
"meeeeooow" they purr in unison,
"Inside here is our bane" ~


I whisper to them soothingly,
"Enjoy your 'bird's~eye view' . . .
it's too damp n cold n windy
out there now for you" ~


KITCHEN WINDOW WONDERS
astir with happenings galore . . .
brings the world inside or keeps it out
Ohhhh, who could ask for more? :-)









 


My Kitchen Window

By Doris (Toto38@aol.com)





An eighty-foot-long, twenty-foot-wide driveway separates our home from our eldest daughter's. Under her kitchen window is a fuschia red rose bush that was brought out from Brooklyn, and transplanted by her grandparents over, 50 years ago. The roses are the most beautiful in her garden and she brings me the first from that bush every year.

I can see the comings and goings of the family while cats and squirrels run to and fro as our dog barks in his (he thinks) threatening voice. Our granddaughter, 26, now has her own home. The twins, now 17, have their basketball hoop-stand over the driveway, and I watch as they bring their friends over to have a game, or to practice for a school game. Unbeknownst (I thought) to them, their antics and comments keep me giggling behind the window. One of them let me know that they knew I was watching! The little scamps were putting on a show for Nana...knowing I enjoyed every minute of it...and still do. : )

Looking out that window, ten years ago, December 26th, I saw a terrible sight that almost froze me to the spot. The fire in their fireplace had a backdraft of some sort and started a fire in the wooden sill of the basement ceiling. The driveway side of the house was in flames! The five of them came running over to us in the freezing cold, wearing nothing but pajamas. There were no injuries. The Fire Department was able to save almost everything, but the water, smoke and fire damage was extensive to the living and dining rooms. Smoke damage went through the entire house. Two days later the cleaning service came and did an excellent job. Carpenters were there in a week and before we knew it, their home was put to rights.

Our kitchen windows have been the "eyes on the world of our family" for good, and not-so-good times, but I'd not change its place for anything.








 


Kitchen Window

By Amy (Fabulousfilly@aol.com)





the goldenrods and daffodils peep through the window pane
they grow so fast don't ya know, when having all this rain.
the tulips soon will pop through
then the rose, with all its dew.


sit at our table on a sunday morn
watching the flowers turns off our frowns
waiting for spring
and all warm things


this is my view
wheather vane
window pane ....









 


I Have A Windowless Kitchen

By Jeanie (Mingo184@aol.com)





I DON'T HAVE A KITCHEN WINDOW IN MY HOME. I LIVE IN A CONDO, IN A RECONVERTED FACTORY, AND THE WAY THE ROOMS ARE LINED UP, THE KITCHEN IS OPEN TO THE LIVING ROOM AND IT, THE KITCHEN, IS THE END ROOM. THEREFORE, I DON'T HAVE A VIEW FROM MY WINDOWLESS KITCHEN. SO, I WILL WRITE ABOUT MY MOM'S KITCHEN WINDOW.

MOM'S KITCHEN WINDOW LOOKED OUT ONTO THE BACKYARD. WHEN I WAS LITTLE, SHE HAD MADE A GARDEN OF FLOWERS. THE GARDEN WAS HORSESHOE SHAPED AND IT HELD MORNING GLORIES, DAFFODILS AND LILY OF THE VALLEY. BEYOND THAT FLOWER GARDEN, WE HAD A VEGETABLE GARDEN. THERE WERE TOMATOES, CARROTS, ONIONS AND PARSLEY. RHUBARB GREW WILD. AND LONG AFTER THE GARDENS WEREN'T TENDED ANYMORE, THE RHUBARB STILL GREW.

I COULD LOOK OUT THAT KITCHEN WINDOW AND SEE A BIG OLD APPLE TREE WHERE DAD HAD HUNG A HAMMOCK. MY LITTLE BROTHER, JOE, (HE'S 61 NOW..LOL) HAD A KIDDIE SWING THERE AND I LOVED TO PUSH HIM ON THAT SWING.

THERE WERE 3 KITCHEN WINDOWS, AND ONE LOOKED OUT OVER THE BACK PORCH AND I'D WATCH MOM LEANING OVER THE PORCH RAILING TO HANG FRESHLY WASHED CLOTHES FROM HER WRINGER WASHER ON THE CLOTHES LINE. CLOTHES HUNG OUT ALWAYS SMELLED FRESH AND I LOVED TO BURY MY NOSE IN THE TOWELS WHEN THEY WERE BROUGHT INSIDE.

I'D SIT BY THE WINDOW OVERLOOKING THE BACKYARD AFTER SCHOOL. I'D DRINK MY MILK AND EAT SOME COOKIES BEFORE GOING OUT TO PLAY WITH MY PLAYMATES FROM THE NEIGHBORHOOD. I LIKED TO WATCH THE SQUIRRELS SCAMPER ACROSS THE BACKYARD AND UP ANOTHER TREE NEXT DOOR. IT'S NICE TO CLOSE MY EYES NOW AND SEE THAT VIEW FROM MOM'S KITCHEN WINDOW.








 


Outside The Window

By Swampetta (SWAMPETTA@aol.com)





I can look outside the kitchen window
And see the way the world is spinning.
The sun's rays and the moon's glow
Mother Nature seems to be winning.


But when I turn my eyes away,
The cats will take my place.
Watching squirrels and birds all day.
Wearing smiles on their furry face.


Although the front door opens wide,
And the back door does too.
The kitchen window shows me the side
Only seen by a special few.









 


Kitchen Window

By Tom (tomWYO@aol.com)





Orchids setting in a cluttered kitchen window as the snow melts outside.



Thoughts of last summer’s flowers, the heat and orchids, lots of beautiful blooming orchids did occupy her mind as she had finished shoveling snow, the snow the plow drivers had piled in her driveway so she could not get out. She had cookies on the mind, but she refused to bake them for her husband would not shovel the snow and she was bedamned if she would cook him a treat when she had to do the work. “Cookies, peanut butter cookies with lots of pure creamery butter,” she said as she saw a Chocolate chip ad and the picture of the elves in the old hollow tree baking lots of Keebler cookies. “Dang, double damn,” she muttered, thinking, why me, why can’t I eat a few cookies without bloating up like they had fed me yeast and plugged both ends. She laughed at saying something so base and risqué, but she had said it to herself as he was in the den watching an R-rated girly movie. “Dang your soul anyhow,” she said as she went to her purse and slipped something out of it and then into her pocket. She quietly went downstairs; looking about and trying not to make any noise.

She turned on the basement light and walked over to the window that let in the most light. She again looked about as she pulled a package of cookies from her pocket and with a big grin ate the four small cookies. She wiped her mouth, folded the wrapper and went upstairs. She hid the wrapper in the bottom of the trash can so he would not see or find it; then she walked over to the stove, picked up her cup of green tea and looked out the window.

All of her beloved orchids. The stems were so scrawny and weak she had to put splints on them and there were so few leaves; her lovely orchids looked not as she described them but pretty dang pathetic. “Honey, Honey,” she yelled as she turned her head toward the den. No response. “Honey, will you come and look at my orchids,” she yelled, louder this time.

Still no response as she heard moaning and groaning coming from the other room. She went to the den door, opened it, and was ready to scream when she noticed not just him watching the TV but there were two other men in the den with him. All three were enjoying a quite explicit X-rated threesome. She closed the door and wondered when the two men had come. That is why he did not go to the fitness center, they came while she was gone. “Dang you, dang you anyhow,” she said as she looked out and saw the heavy snow was melting, melting at a good rate. She thought about making cookies and eating the whole batch, thought about it long and hard as she saw the guy from around the corner go running by, that young guy that always looked at her boobs and butt and never at her face.

Her face turned to a big smile as she quickly put on her walking shoes and grabbed her coat. She grabbed two apples, stuck them in her pocket and headed for the door. She would take a walk; to heck with the orchids, to heck with cookies, maybe he would come by and she could talk with him and offer him an apple. “I wonder if he would, gosh I wish . . . but he is young enough for me to me his mother or grandmother . . . .” It was a nice day for a walk.








 


As He Sat At The Window

By Sharon (Sunyskys1943@aol.com)





Outside the lake was frozen the ground white
He sat at the kitchen table to write
He remembered when he was very young
Before she left when sweet love songs were sung


He tried to pen thoughts that were on his mind
To say without her that life was not kind
What could he write to return her to home
Just what words would cause her to no more roam


She had left to travel two years before
Still the pain seared his poor heart to the core
Where in the world could his letter he send
Would the tears on his face come to an end


He gave up the thought of writing to her
No address to send and that was for sure
That was when he heard the opening of door
And she stood nearby on the kitchen floor


She saw the wet tears streaking down his face
She knew that her leaving was a disgrace
He slowly approached to give her a hug
I love you she said to the big old lug


A renewal of their life together came
Better than before and not quite the same
She knew that the wide world was not for she
In his loving arms was the place to be









 


Kitchen Window

By Barbara (Brierhillbarbara@aol.com)





THE HOME I GREW UP IN HAD NO WINDOWS IN THE KITCHEN.
I NEVER THOUGHT OF IT UNTIL I LOOKED OUT THIS WONDERFUL WINDOW.
MY HOME HAS A VIEW OF MY YARD AND AS LOOK OUT EACH WINDOW THE VIEW IS DIFERENT.


OUT THE KITCHEN I SEE WHOSE CAR OR TRUCK COMES OR GOES FROM MY DRIVE.
OUT THE FRONT DOOR I SEE THE MAIN HIGHWAY AND MY GOLDFISH POND WITH FLOWERS.
OUT THE FRONT DOOR IS ALSO MY DECK AND SWING, WITH FLOWERS IN POTS IN SUMMER.


OUT MY BATH WINDOW MY EYES SEE PINES AND CEDARS AND THE DOG RUN.
OUT MY BED ROOM WINDOW IS THE ROAD AND TREES AND FLOWERS.
I MUST ADMIT MY ORCHIDS DIED AND I BOUGHT SILK ONES.
PERHAPS SOMEONE CAN TELL ME THE TRICK TO GROWING THEM AND MAKING THEM BLOOM?









 


The Kitchen Window

By Norma (Twi1ite@sbcglobal.net)





There was a house on a hill.
A high kitchen window
With a window sill,
And one violet.


Above the window
There was once a red ruffle,
A young mother watched
Little children at play.


From that window
She saw sheets in the breezes,
Swaying young trees.
A sand pile.


Washing dishes by hand,
Her dreams far away,
Problems of life,
Melted in suds.


Seasons of sun,
Seasons of rain
Seasons of green heat,
Love, joy, pain.


The window, a never finished art,
Frames all phases of life,
In the house on the hill,
And so it does still.









 


My Kitchen Window

By Lilly (Lilprincessitali@aol.com)





All five homes had kitchen window in back
This fifth one is best, I see what I love
Winter brings white snow and I see tracks
My cat, dog, rabbits, squirrels, and birds
My garden bare through winter with leaf mulch
My deck, birds eat off feeder and spill seeds
Much company I watch them come to eat
They fly away fast, no see they come back
The weather vane spins around every day
I always know the direction wind blows
Shed locked seems as if nobody is home
Come Spring flower beds dead stalks raked out
I see new growths beginning to come through
Amazing nature's work bringing life back
I dress up my deck with red geraniums
White pots bring up their beauty galore
Summertime brings all colors all around
Butterflies come looking sipping nectar
See sunshine most days cloudy some days
Rain comes often see rainbow sometimes
Nite time brings fireflies, skeeters, and bats
My cat goes to window watch every thing
I join him watch the beauty each day brings
The bluebird sits next to his house on sill
On rod vary crystal prisms on string hang
Bring in rainbow colors in my kitchen
Nights I watch stars and moon overhead
Fall comes things die and fall is time to sleep
The light above my kitchen window glows









 


My Kitchen Window-My World View

By Evelyn (Evenccw@aol.com)





Kitchen window–the words have a special sound that speaks to my early years of nurturing in a farm house kitchen that faced east. In grade school, at its east window, I learned my compass points In geography class in the fifth grade, when Sister Mary Paul called on me, I would mentally place myself at the kitchen’s east window. I reckoned that since the kitchen faced due east, when the sun rose it flooded the room with dawn’s early light. Conversely, faithfully and predictably, the opposite was true when the sun set on the west side of the house! When I faced east I knew north was on my left and south was on my right. With the passage of the years, and higher education notwithstanding, by golly, it still works for me!

Surely it is by some grand design that in my twilight years I have the kitchen of my dreams. My kitchen windows face the east! I love to watch the sun come up over the tree tops and roof tops and watch dawn’s early light tease with its coy display behind the clouds of the day, be they stratus, cumulus or cirrus, or a combination of all three as I pour my first cup of coffee. Occasionally, when the atmosphere is just right, there is a psychedelic display of pink vapor contrails from the Akron-Canton Airport thirty miles away. On the days when there is no sun, I observe the weather first hand. In the summer I drink in with joy my labor of love, my flower garden that runs down the drive and along the street. All the while I remember my very first kitchen window that faced the east.

In my early years the kitchen seemed to be the center of our universe. Mama ruled her world from there. She could holler equally as loud from the east or south facing kitchen windows. She had radar before radar was invented. Those kitchen windows were her eyes to the world. She always seemed to know just what we were up to. From the east-facing window the barn yard and our play yard were in full view She loved seeing us having childhood fun but she didn't put up with nonsense. She didn't like rowdiness. She saw everything from that window and monitored our every move it seemed. One such occasion was when my brother John and Cousin Bernard were causing our puppies to fight with each other. Daddy thought it was cute and took a picture. Mama didn't! The snapshot was taken in 1939. Daddy loved a Kodak moment!



Brother John and Cousin Bernard
in Earshot of the east kitchen window



The window facing south looked out over the front yard past Aunt Freda’s flower garden and our vegetable garden. Once when Aunt Helen was visiting she had a “Kodak moment” when she saw, from the south kitchen window, Mama and Daddy hoeing in the garden. You can see us three kiddies, Edna, John and me, in the background. Mama’s apron is hiding the fact that Mary Ann is on the way! I love this old snapshot of Mama and Daddy working together.



Mama and Daddy, and babies three,
viewed from the kitchen window!



We didn't have running water. After meals, morning, noon and night, the table under the south window was cleared and two dish pans with warm water appeared for washing dishes. One washed. The other dried. And someone put them away. It was a thrice-daily routine, a drill. There was never such a thing as a “sink full of dirty dishes!” That south-facing window was really the eye on the world. You could see neighbors cutting across the meadow, or watch cars on the Convent Road and wonder where they were going. We watched the seasons change year by year as the fields yielded their crops of cotton, corn, strawberries, and potatoes. And it was always important that there be a light in the kitchen window to welcome any of us who happened to be out and come home after dark. We were always admonished, “Don't forget to put out the lamp before you go to bed.”

Some of my most cherished memories in that old kitchen and memories of its windows were when I had the opportunity to just “hang out” with Mama as she was busy at the cook stove. As we chit chatted away, I liked to sit at the south window with my arm on the sill. Looking out across the garden, the meadow and the fields I liked to pretend that I was on a train going to far off places. Eventually I did. Those warm memories of my day dreaming linger yet, and I still dream as I linger at my kitchen window!

As the years flew by, Mama’s kitchen window, now in the city, continued to be a favorite hangout of mine. We all felt such excitement at having a sink under the kitchen windows when we moved to 151 Hermann Street! The world view was different than the one on the farm, but one thing never changed. She always kept the kitchen light on when we were out. The house was never dark when we came home at night. And my own world view has been filtered by the view from various kitchen windows through the years. And the kitchen continues to be the heart of my home the homes of my six children and their families, each with their own kitchen windows and each with a unique and exciting world view.



Evelyn’s labor of love–her flower garden!



When I see the picture of my parents hoeing in their garden with their children playing contentedly in the soil in the background, I feel the love that they gave me for the good Earth and the bounty it yields when we care for it. I am ever grateful for the skills that they handed down to me so that I can now look out my kitchen windows and enjoy the fruits of my labor in my lovely flower garden–the beauty that came from the work of my hands!








 

 

 

 

 



Seasons Popping

Hot Cocoa

Tooked A Flower To My Girl

The Sign

A Note



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