Pages

Showing posts with label #poetrypals. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #poetrypals. Show all posts

Saturday, August 15, 2026

Looking Back on a Special Summer Day with a Midyear Pantoum

Friday, July 31st is a revered day in my home. 

On this day in 2026, I remember excitedly peeking through the doorway of the church to see my husband-to-be. "I love him so much, I blurted out to my uncle. Time passed. Each decade brought joys and challenges. Five years ago, Richard and I decided to commit to a renewal of vows at the beautiful Meadowlark Botanical Gardens in Northern Virginia. Little did we know that our dream would not come to be.

Over the years, I have learned that life is fragile and uncertain as  it continues through seasons of change. I did hope for my Golden Anniversary to be a celebration of love and enjoyment, not to be spoiled by the hands of grief. Two weeks ago, my family gathered at Girasole, a countryside-garden restaurant for a celebration dinner of authentic, regional Italian cuisine. The beautiful country restaurant was the site my husband and I chose to have our anniversary dinner a few years ago. This year, I wished to have a special family gathering and my family agreed. A beautiful summer evening became the site for a quiet, private remembrance of what was in life.

It just so happened that the Poetry Friday Roundup was scheduled for July 31st. I started to write my blog post on Thursday with a thoughtful intent to join the August Challenge created by the Poetry Sisters', Tanita, Mary Lee, Laura, Tricia, and Liz.  The prompt for creating a pantoum poem was selected from Padraig O Tuama's Poetry Unbound challenge in January. Padraig introduced a Midyear Pantoum on where you are now, and where your hopes take you by the end of the year. He noted that the first step was to write eight lines that would fold into a pantoum. I always enjoy the writing of the Poetry Sisters and Poetry Pals, Michelle K Patricia F, Denise, and Margaret. who contributed to the challenge. Because of the family weekend, I never was able to submit my post so two weeks later, while on our family vacations, I pause to finish what I started.

Midyear Thoughts regarding a pattern of life changes. (Instead of eight lines, I clusted my thoughts under three ideas: the past, present, and future.)

  • How did my life move forward after April 2, 2025? For a year, I passed through seasons of change without my husband. I listened to Earth's movements, especially at night while I was alone. Throughout the first few months, sleeping was erratic. I felt broken down as tensions stormed like rainstorms. I grieved, held on to faith through the storms, and prayed in the stillness of night, noting that changes needed to unfold.
  • Where am I now? I hold on to faith and hope, like my Nonnie and Mother did during trying times. I listen for the call to mingle beyond family life, open my heart, not be frightened by the darkness of grief, and step forward to seek bereavement counseling. Tears still appear like rainstorms when I feel the loss. Coldness at night brings back memories of the past, when I had more than just a heating blanket to keep me warm. I watch the transitions of nature's seasons and write when there is time.
  • Where will this journey take me? The petals of springtime, the variations of summer sounds, and the shore melding with swooshing ocean waves are nature's way to nurture my mind, body, and spirit. I am eager to feel the soft sways of the sea bringing me to a calmer me. On the summer vacation, I will dig deeper, pausing to meditate what will come next. With two more seasons ahead, I trust that my mind, body, and spirit will feel the power of faith growing while I hold on to the hope of joyful tomorrows. Little, watchful steps is what I need and the transitions of season will help me find deeper ways to move forward.
Passing Through Seasons of Change

darkness covered the path
one life passed on
nighttime sounds began to echo
tensions rose like April storms

one life passed on
nature changed seasons
tensions rose like April storms
grief found its nesting spot

nature changed seasons
wisps of springtime air moved through
grief found its nestling spot
as sleepless nights brought prayer

wisps of springtime air moved through
slipping loneliness inside darkened spaces
sleepless nights brought prayer
summer shared joyful memories

loneliness slipped inside darkened spaces
sun's rays reached out
summer shared joyful memories
family life moves onward
Draft, CVarsalona, 2026

morning gull observes
sea-sparkling foamy tides
swooshing through life
nature's meditation time
shares sunkissed peaceful moments
Draft, CVarsalona, 2026
____________________________________________________________

Poetry Friday logo by Molly Hogan

Thank you to our wonderful Poetry Friday host, photographer/poet, Molly at Nix the Comfort Zone. Her blog shared Georgia Heard's and Irene Latham's workshop, "Words that Sing and Soar: The Joy of Words in Poetry" followed by her own poem,"Still".

Saturday, June 27, 2026

Thinking in Threes

" Life, it seems, is series of eras, periods, and ages that are constantly shifting, rearranging, being integrated, and viewed anew." 

- Karen Edmisten

I am always on the lookout for well-stated thoughts to inspire my day. While reading Karen Edmisten's blog recently, I decided to capture the above quote to add to the Poetry Sisters' writing challenge.

It's the end of June, and the Poetry Sisters invited PoetryPals to join June's challenge. Here's the scoop from Tanita Davis: "We’re greeting the opening act of summer with a triptych." Tanita was introduced to the poetic format by Tabatha Yeatts, who shared West Coast poet and essayist Louise Ireland’s three-act August Triptych. 

Even though I never heard of a triptych poem, I decided to bring together three different summertime moments as poet Linda Pastan did in her Summer Triptych. My triptych poem went through many revisions, so it is still in the draft stage. Wordy narration, was a start. 

“It’s strange how summers from different decades can be yoked together by memory in a single poem.” -Linda Pastan

Summer Love Connections

1.

Love is summer's heated-blush

to a young lady, who arrived late.

A sun-kissed sky, and one crutch

slowly. moved me toward a surprising spark of connections. 

From the thumping of his heartbeats,  

smiles and conversations rose.

Temperatures swelled and 

whisperings swirled as  

 hearts melded together.

2.

Summers passed by; full-bloom gardens 

shared nature's nurturing fragrance.

Hearts deepened as heated sands

and roaring waves ebbed and flowed.

The sounds of children's voices

echoed across ocean waves and

cherished memories lit sunsets. 

Love sparked amidst life's shifting, 

and tides of ups and down.


Anniversaries broadened. 

Summers renewed a bond.

Love connections flourished.

along with blooming gardens 

of florals and herbs 

and refreshing waves.

 3.

Summer years followed; 

love grew like the deer family

marching strategically from the woods.

Geese paraded with fledglings broods.

At times, connections were

lost in unexpected time warps. 

Sunrise either brought warmth

or skytears of gray mornings.

New home renewed life's designs

until love split in half as 

one life slipped heavenward.

draft, CVarsalona, 2026

Hope and faith are strong components in life. Connections are anchors. Love and nature nurture life. Breathe in. Breathe out and notice what is precious in our lives and on our earth of contrasts  

Join Poetry Sister, Tricia Sthor Hunt, at 
The Miss Rumphius Effect for the Poetry Friday Roundup.
You will be delighted to read her triptych and those of her 
Poetry Sisters,Tanita, Mary Lee Hahn, and Liz Garton Scanlon.

My time slipped by so this blog was finished into the wee hours of Saturday morning.

Friday, October 31, 2025

Hallow's Eve

It was the sign of the times. The Wraiths' Feast came to be. Collegiate voice lifters journeyed through the Witches' Passage to the nearest Wailing Walls. With Lantern Haze devices, they slowly proceeded onward. Under a darkened sky, they listened for Midnight Murmurs from Gossamer Ghosts who enjoyed lurking on the bewitching night of Halloween. 

Are you ready for a ghostly poems prompted by our creative Poetry Friday host, Jone Rush MacCulloch? Jone offers a list of Halloween prompts to create a variety of poems by our community of writer-poets.  What I did was take her poems and introduce them in a short tale that is partially true from my college days with additional support from Halloween photos I took while living in Long Island.           

⇩
DON'T BE AFRAID!
Howling whisperers
screech and whimper.
With bated breath,
 Halloweeners creep quietly,
slowly inching their way
throughout the cemetery
until they notice
a formidable sign.
"Yikes!"  Do you see a conclave before us?
Ghastly, bellowing ghosts circle.
Whose Moolinght Graveyard is this?
I think I know, but
not all agree.
Some friends step back,
tingling like scared cats,
Others mesmerized by the Phantom Lullaby.
Howling screams, frozen in time, rise. Stop!
Something lurks by the Velvet Coffin.
"Let it be known", so it is said.
"There is something haunting
in the light of the moon."

Without delay, scratching voices
rise from the ground.
We quickly skedaddle
under the light of the evening moon,
before sirens chase us out.
©CVarsalona, 2025

Just Remember:
Beware of what lurks at night on Hallow's Eve.
@CVarsalona, free verse, Halloween 2025
@CVarsalona digital artwork 

Follow the light of the moon to Jone's Poetry Friday Halloween Roundup.
You never know what you will find.

Poetry Peeps were invited to the Poetry Sisters challenge for October! A burning haibun arrived from the ashes of my opening prose poem. As the Poetry Princesses noted, the burning haibun is not the "old regular haibun. It highlights the internal landscape of memory and within them, something somewhere must BURN." 
(Please enjoy visiting other poets who enjoyed creating burning haibuns: Tricia, Sara, Laura, Mary Lee, Liz, and Michelle K. Check Tanita's blog to see if more people joined in.)

In prose, I present Hallow's Eve.

It was the sign of the times. The Wraiths' Feast came to be. Collegiate voice lifters journeyed through the Witches' Passage to the nearest Wailing Walls. With Lantern Haze devices, they slowly proceeded onward. Under a darkened sky, they listened for Midnight Murmurs from Gossamer Ghosts who enjoyed lurking on the bewitching night of Halloween. 

Erasure #1. Result after the blackout technique:

it's time. Wraths' Feast came. Voice lifted. Journey with lanterns slowly proceeded. Darkened sky listened. Midnight ghosts lurking on Halloween. 

Erasure #2. Burnout leads to a haiku.

It's time wraith came
voices journey listen
night ghosts lurk
  Draft CVarsalona, Halloween 2025, burning haibun

Oh, what fun it is to capture Halloween Eve, especially since this year I am homebound with a fractured ankle. My boot and walker chair are my costume for a chilly night at home.
Please understand that I have been on slow-go movement since last week.

Friday, August 29, 2025

Getting The Blues

There is an art to summering during the summer season. It begins with a place animated by nature's hand and a feeling of ease. Sunshine warms hearts while clouds stretch across the sky watching below. A curtain of positivity swishes in the breeze. But there may be days when gray clouds push through the sunshine and thunder through trees.  Either way, bright sunshine or torrential rains, nature nurtures human beings in invisible ways. This I know since my family and I set out on a journey to celebrate my husband's life, as he wished. Summering was a treat since the weather was beautiful and the memories fond.

It is three weeks since we celebrated my husband's life. I carried home with me a spirit of peace but lately there have been difficulties sleeping. I wake with thoughts that I am overwhelmed. My dreams encourage this feeling although I cannot remember exactly what I dreamed. I turn to my writing to find a sense of balance but deep inside there is a void. 

I thank the Poetry Sisters, Tanita at {fiction, instead of lies}, Laura at Laura Purdie Salas, Tricia at The Miss Ruphius Effect, Sara at Read Write Believe, Mary Lee Hahn at Another Year of Reading, and Liz at Liz Garton Scanlon, who invite writers to join their August challenge. I am happy to do so because I need a distraction from reality. Their prompt states, "If poetry is a love letter to readers, this month, we're writing back. Using Nikki Giovanni's "Talk to Me, Poem, I Think I Got the Blues" as a mentor verse, we are writing poetry in conversation with a poem and adding the hashtag #PoetryPals to our posts and social media. 

My strike line for a Golden Shovel poem comes from  
Nikki Giovanni's mentor text/poem,


Dear Poem, I need to talk.
Each night, I wake up mid-sleep to 
stop worrying about me.
Are you listening, Poem?
Discombobulated, I
feel, so let's pause to think
before writing. I
need to stop waking up shaken. I got
an overwhelming amount of the
to-do-list blues.
(Poem, help me to feel renewed!)
draft © CVarsalona, 2025


It is time to offer this blog post to the Poetry Friday Roundup who is hosted by Karen Edmisten. Karen is sharing her poem for the Poetry Sisters' challenge. Click here.

Stay tuned. In the near future, I will share a mini-gallery of artistic expressions, The Art of Summering 2025.

Welcome to the Art of Summering 2025 Mini-Gallery

Friday, June 27, 2025

Navigating Reality: Touch of Hope

Photographer: March-Olivier Jodoin at Unsplash

"Today...I open my heart's hand to allow the touch of hope.”
Julia Cameron
🩷
I feel the sorrow of loss and grief
Wondering if flowers feel the same
While wilting in the heat?
Summer heat reminds me that
Your hand no longer gently holds mine
But there is hope waiting
Beyond my spinning dreams. 
Today under an azure sky, nature
Splendidly welcomed morning's peace.
I opened my bleeding heart to life and
Felt the warmth of nature's healing
Peeking through the slats on the shades.
I accept the invitation to indulge in life
Because where there is an open heart
Possibilities open as well!
CVarsalona, draft, 2025

I shall carry this thought throughout the day with hope for peace to settle in.
🩷
This month, the Poetry Sisters, Tanita at{fiction, instead of lies}, Laura at Laura Purdie Salas, Tricia at The Miss Ruphius Effect, Sara at Read Write Believe, Mary Lee Hahn at Another Year of Reading, and Liz at Liz Garton Scanlon, invited  writers to write a couple of couplets and make a raccontino. I am glad they explained the format that I have never tried before. A raccontino is a form that follows these rules: composed of couplets (any number) even-numbered lines that share the same end rhyme, the title and last words of the odd-numbered lines tell a story. I must admit that I struggled with this poetic format.

Silent Disease

Would I have known
What the future planned

When my heart was full of sorrow
And there were multiple demands?

Caregiver was the title given
But I could not withstand

The extent of sorrow
Nor could I understand.

There was a trip to take,
A birthday treat that was grand

To a place of ease
A beach filled with sand,

Summering during winter's end,
Yet you could not fully stand.

Life withered over our last days
Until what was left was in God's hands.
draft ©CVarsalona, 2025

🩷
A Special Thank You To:
Jama Rattigan for lifting my heart and helping me navigate my reality with a special gift, Healing After Loss by Martha W. Hickman. This book inspires me to write about my journey with a touch of hope that summer will open my heart to joy.

🩷
A new poetry friend, Shirley Thacker, shared a lovely poetry swap filled with poetic goodness. She sent me her book, Wind Beneath the Pines, that provides various types of poems which she wrote. This book is special because it comes from the heart. Shirley's husband urged her to "write the stories-the tales about life" and so she did. I am thrilled that Shirley shared her love of poetry with me in such a special way. You can read more about Shirley at Jone Rush MacCulloch's blog. Click here to read Jone's Interview with Shirley. I enjoyed Shirley's poems especially Grandchildren. Her six-word  poems shared her wisdom.
Courage each
Day, walking
Life's road
©Shirley Thacker

🩷
I have lingered a long time trying to make sense of life while piecing the raccontino poem together. I gardened outside with the sun's warmth. Hope touched me, yet I still am unsure how to navigate reality. Healing after loss is a process. I am determined to continue this journey with stride. I thank family, friends, and the poetry community for their support. 

Now I turn my attention to the Poetry Friday Roundup that is hosted this week by one of the Poetry Sisters, Tanita Davis. This week she penned two poems and provided her process. I look forward to reading the contributions of all those who are adding their poems to the Roundup but I go at a slow pace these days.


In ending, I decided to take Shirley Thacker's 6 word poem 
Courage each
Day, walking
Life's road
and write Golden Shovel as inspiration to be present in life daily.

Finding courage
is not easy on each
summer day
perhaps walking
will provide life's
journey a new road
©CVarsalona, 2025