Poems & Articles

"SENSE"
By ETTA

As a symphony of water
Cascades in a never ending
Promise over stones;
I see.

As the wind whispers
Secrets to the grass;
I hear.

As the trees leave
A silent music
On my tongue
I taste.

As the blossoms leave
A ballet of perfume in my nose;
I smell.

And as I look into my mother's eyes I see
A never ending abyss of secrets in hiding;
Then and only then;
I feel.

On the Cusp
By Carl Turner

Her smile, her jewel
To precious to be worn casually-

But shared freely in the close company of those lucky ones
who loved her and were loved in return.

At once strong,substantial, yet eyes flashing with wonder and curiosity
about how things came to be-

Thoughtful and reflective in her questions,
yet silly and impish when the fun begins.

Laughing easily — Peers and old folks alike drawn to her "joi de vive"

So lovely and robust on horseback, on the soccer field
so gracefully balanced and confident.

I am missing her; I am missing the idea of her.

Business Unfinished....

"She Is" (A poem about Etta)
By Biz Stewart

Laughter permeated these rooms
a sound so foreign I scarcely remember
wanting to understand the airyness of it's
light cadence.
To grieve is to live,and as such is an
affirmation of life of
reality
of all the blight and drudge we'd care to
wipe out of existance.
The pair we so boldly endure,
drips in uncertian drops.
Courageous though we are
Understanding lacks purpose,
we dare not challenge gravity.
except to gain what we will no doubt quickly
Lose again.
So I do not challenge laughter
for I do not understand it.
Words diminish emotions
much like dreams diminish life
Attempting to explain laughter
is a vain pursuit.
Like telling a blind man how to see.
The languages we boast are primitive,
accidents really.
They do not seek to intensify our feelings.
They strip them down to letters.
And letters are only course sounds.
I offer these words
despising each one for it's arrogance.
I hate them for what they might never be.
I cannot assign words to her character.
They only diminish what they could never explain.
Much like laughter.
So I will tell you what you already know
that she transcends,
and is not bound by course human tongues...
she exists unexpectedly
she is summer
she is reconciliation
she is laughter.

White Rose
By Mary Etta Nixon ( Etta’s Grandmother)

Roses in general signify honor and fragrance. So I would assume a white Rose would signify purity, honor and fragrance.

Etta was a white rose, pure, fragrant, and honorable. According to the World Book Dictionary, purity means freedom from dirt and evil. It also means innocence. Etta was innocent and pure of heart, caring for other, just beginning to reach out to share what she was becoming.

Honor — according to the dictionary means a sense of what is right and proper. It also means glory and fame. We her grandparents were honored to have her carry our name wherever she went. Etta is our granddaughter — She was special to family and friends in Washington and to her family in Tennessee. Glory she might have had on earth but now she has Glory in Heaven.

Fragrance means a sweet and pleasant odor — I am going to change that to the adjective Fragrant. Etta was fragrant, not necessarily in smell but in her way of using her mind, her abilities in her school and sports as well as home. She got the job done and did her best. She was special in the way she loved and helped her brothers and her sister. She loved her family.

A White Rose who was pure of heart — honored by all — a child yet with fragrant wishes, ideas, who was caring, sharing and loving. A beautiful young lady who didn’t get to fulfill all of those things she so dearly loved and wanted to be-A life cut short in youth —A white rose cut too quickly — who will forever be in our heart and will never fade. She was—is our Granddaughter — a white rose.

Read articles about Etta and Etta Projects in our online scrapbook »