"Bursts of gold on lavender melting into saffron. It's the time of day when the sky looks like it has been spray-painted by a graffiti artist." - Mia Kirshner
Tuesday, June 22, 2021
Thursday, June 17, 2021
For me, writing in the quiet of night is a treat but there are other magical moments that light up life.
This week, my granddaughter turned four so naturally, I wrote a poem to celebrate her amazing years of life. It was a pantoum poem that my granddaughter and I call a story poem. I added digital photos of her to entice her into the poem.
While I was not present at the children's party (I am hosting the extended family's "big people's" party this weekend), I enjoyed an online conversation and found out that there were many surprises at the party, one of which brought me Grandma joy. During the Google Duo call, I listened to Sierra's exciting details about the party with her best friends. I then shared the story poem I wrote. First, we looked at the digital photos I created from infancy through toddler years. Next, I asked if I could read the story poem. Sierra is a reader and loves a good read-aloud so she listened carefully. At the close of the poem, I heard, "Thank you, Grandma." How endearing those words were!
Now. let me share the events of the party where magic was in the air. The video that was sent to the family showed an excited child rushing to the back door and down the path to the wooded backyard. Ah, yes, an awesome sight awaited her! Her Mommy remembering her own childhood parties in a backyard miniature house, constructed a child-size outdoor house and Daddy helped erect it. The little house set in a wooded setting of their back year was complete with a patio laid down by the carpenter. Two Adirondack chairs, a child-size picnic table, and window boxes full of flowers against a natural setting added additional charm to the setting. Photos posted were filled with excitement and joy so I decided to write a tricube poem. It is a good format because of its simplicity that allows a story to flow.
I am now preparing for the family birthday party at my new house on Saturday. Even though, Sierra said will not be her birthday date, I responded that the big people want to celebrate your special day. Afterall, you are only four once.
Little house in the woods,
Now, it's time for the Poetry Friday Roundup at poet and nature photographer Buffy Silverman's blog site.
Tuesday, June 15, 2021
It is quiet in the house except for the hum of the twirling fan. Only cracks of lights enter the darkened room. I steal a few moments to be alone with my thoughts. It is the eve of my granddaughter's fourth birthday. A whoosh of camera-ready moments rushes past me, from infant to toddler to a curious little girl. The years of her joyous life "whisper loud enough to make me stop and take stock."*
I dedicate the following pantoum poem composed of four-line stanzas in which the second and fourth lines of each stanza serve as the first and third lines of the next stanza. The last line of the pantoum is the same as the first.
Thursday, June 10, 2021
The Urban Dictionary describes sprinter as "the Canadian season which occurs between Spring and Summer when Mother Nature forgets that it is supposed to be getting warmer and suddenly reverts to Winter for no apparent reason."
Tuesday, June 8, 2021
Have I mentioned before that my husband often says I lack a humorous side?This is true so below is my feeble attempt at humor based me trying to organize the unorganized parts of my new house. No matter what I do, I create more of a mess with the vast array of unopened boxes.
Friday, June 4, 2021
Like a freight train, the February storm lumbered with force through Long Island, derailing outdoor plans. Snow upon snow blanketed earth. It glistened in white gowns of white lace. Meteorologists on high alert watched in amazement until the first blast quieted down for a winter nap but this was just the beginning.
With winter just a blurred memory away, I turned to my digital photo album to find a picturesque winter scene of Long Island. Through the magic of digital tools (PicMonkey and FotoJet), a winter wonderland of snow emerged as a piece of artwork. I remembered the lush, alluring whiteness after the storm. It was a time to be dazzled by the purity of the snow and its ethereal beauty.
Thursday, June 3, 2021
Life is about transitions. I look back on this year. Winter was filled with urgent to-do lists. Sell the Long Island house, find a spot open for COVID vaccinations for myself and my family, call the movers, and in the weeks before the move have an estate sale of my antiques and collectibles. I pause to reflect on my 2021 one word, begin, knowing that it has brought me through many challenges since I asked it to be a guide on my life journey.
I contemplate my one word's presence in my life, consider what it offers for the future, and deliberate on what can be done to stop brooding over past missteps. Sometimes, I celebrate the word begin and other times get wrapped up in fairytale-like ponderings of an ideal new life. In reality, life is not an easy road to transverse. It is filled with detours, congested pathways, and bridges to cross. I am fully aware that life is fragile and uncertain but can be a hopeful journey if i remain positive.
From the beginning of January, I trusted my one word. With faith on my side and the word begin, I crossed several hurdles starting with getting lost on the trip down to Virginia. I am not quite sure how I did that but it happened and left me in a quandary. I circled around, tried to find a new route, and finally broke down in tears. Was this a warning on how life could be if I continued to be stressed? Did I slow down when I finally arrived in Virginia? No, afterall there were so many tasks to be completed as we moved into our new home. My granddaughters have provided love and joy that dismisses tense-filled weekly tasks.
I am happy to say, that I have prevailed through surging storms, service calls, and edginess amidst open and unopened boxes so I decided to revise my January 2021 Commitment Statement.
I must admit since we moved, sometimes I felt like the wilting flowers in my new garden. They thirsted for a new beginning but I did not know how to nurture these new young plants. I want to stand tall like the other blooms in my gardens. They offer their presence reminding me to sing the praises of nature's blessings.
Tuesday, June 1, 2021
It's Slice of Life Tuesday this first day of June. My blog post is offered to Two Writing Teachers with permission from my little budding artist-poet.
Friday, May 28, 2021
On days like these shorelines call me to a gentler place, one where to-do lists slip away. While it is still spring, warm breezes and rising temperatures of summer fill the air. My mind drifts back to Long Island shores as I explore the above painting found on Google Arts & Culture.
Peering into William Sidney Mount's Crane Neck Across the Marsh artwork, I have a longing to be back at the seashore, being in the moment with peaceful surroundings. I sense that Mount, a longtime Long Island resident, understood the beauty of its terrain.
For my poem today, I am using Laura Shovan's "10 Little Words" idea to create a poem. The words come from Mount's letter to Benjamin Thompson, 1848, about digging for colors. (William Sidney Mount, Painter of Rural America) My words are: explore, pigments, astonished, bright, red, mingling, sandstone, orange vermillion, tide, water, encased, spoon.
©CV, 2021, draft
This month, I am playing with words for the Poetry Sisters' challenge of creating an ekphrastic poem and posting on social media with the tag, #PoetryPals. The challenge consisted of writing an ekpharastic poem using a photograph taken in a museum. I actually forgot the last part so I searched. I was pleased to find the Mount oil painting at the Long Island Museum-gift of Mr. and Mrs. Carl Heyser, Jr., 1961.
Now it is time to link up with the Poetry Friday Roundup with our host, Michelle Kogan, Chicago artist/poet. In her usual flair for color and poetry, Michelle offers the poppiness of springtime with much poetry goodness. Birthday greetings are in order, too.
Tuesday, May 25, 2021
The sun was beating down from a clear sky. Following instructions, my husband and I scouted out areas by a large tree in the back of the brewery for an extended family gathering. I placed my purse on a weather-beaten picnic table like a miner staking his claim. Then, I looked down to find a massive gathering of cicadas risen from their earthen tombs. Some were attempting to fly; others laying lifeless. It was a strange, eerie scene that we did not photograph in our haste to move.
Withing in the depths of dirt
their winged bodies lay
in clumps of half-awake beings.
Waiting to unfold onto earth.
Quietly, they clustered,
Emerging from deep sleep below-surface
Only to be choked by intense heat.
Some attempting to fly
Edged their way forward
Hanging from worn picnic tables.
We moved quietly away
Worried these creatures would attack
But they were only interested in survival.
Those above ground huddled together.
Some flew away while others staggered
On the ground in the dirt.
These large, bugged-eyed creatures
Huddled together like colonies of ants-
Such a sight to behold
that shocked me
but what a science lesson
it became for a toddler's mind.
As my granddaughter approached we looked quickly at the picnic area strewn with cicadas and peeked at the holes they dug. Hand in hand we walked away to a more pleasant sight that was bug-free. My hope is that she will remember her first sighting of these creatures seventeen years in her future.
In 1689 Basho wrote:
Friday, May 21, 2021
Since winter edged its way back into spring in one of its sprinter moods, I share one of MaryLee's spring image poems.
I also would like to share Mary Lee's poem on gratitude and give thanks for the poetic gifts she has bestowed on the Kidlit poetry community.