Letter To Heaven

Dreams seem to flow in and out of my mind lately. They sweep across each night, but I rarely remember a complete dream. I try to keep parts of each dream lodged inside my memory, but I usually fall asleep, and then, the dream vanishes.  

Designed by CVarsalona using Fotojet

At the beginning of May, the Poetry Sisters, Liz Garton Scanlon, Tanita at {fiction, instead of lies}, Laura Purdie Salas, Tricia at The Miss Rumphius Effect, Sara at  Read Write Believe, and Mary Lee Hahn, invited writers to join their challenge. They have been in conversation with Elizabeth Bishop's "Letter to N.Y.", using the golden shovel format created by poet Terrance Hayes. As one of the #PoetryPals, I have constructed a draft of a poem entitled Letter To Heaven with bits and pieces of night dreams and two strike lines from Bishop's mentor text: 1. where everything seems to happen in waves, and  2. nevertheless, I'd like to know.

On this spring-scented May day, where

thoughts float through the clouds, everything

reminds me of our last goodbye. It seems

unreal without you here to

hold my hand and handle finances. What will happen

to your paperwork, stacked up in

piles that push forward as rapidly, ascending waves?

Life seems difficult now, nevertheless,

I must continue to move forward. I'd

be content wishing upon a star like

a child learning how to

enjoy life. For now, I need help being in the know.

©CVarsalona, 2025

It is time now for me to add my #PoetryPals themed poem to the Poetry Friday Roundup. The lovely poet/author Karen Edmisten is our host this week. Thank you, Karen, for supporting me through this difficult chapter of my life. I shall meet you at your blog site. For those interested in the Poetry Friday weekly roundup, please visit Karen's blog here. 19 writers besides Karen are sharing their work.

#PoetryPals November Challenge-Happy Thanksgiving

"A poem is a way of capturing a moment in time and making it eternal." -Valerie Worth

Each month, the Poetry Sisters, Tanita, Laura, Mary Lee, Liz. Sara, Tricia, and Kelly, offer a new poetic challenge. This month they are writing in the style of poet, Valerie Worth, whose poems are known for their simplicity and attention to detail. She was inspired by nature and ordinary objects, as exemplified by her poem, Porches. Valerie Worth's poem (see below) is one of her "small, portable pieces of magic" that draws attention to simple items.

You can learn more about Valerie Worth and read some of her poems at Spotlight on NCTE Poets: Valerie Worth, with Lee Bennett Hopkins, a post at Renee M. LaTulippe at No Water River.

Welcome

On my gathering porch,

Ornamental decor sparkles.

A festive wreath clangs

Against the front door.

Garlands wrap around

A single silent chair.

On the patio, flowers

Explode in fashionable colors.

Fragrant herbs spill over

Vases onto clay-filled soil.

My doors open

Welcoming sunkissed gatherings.

©CVarsalona, 2023

🍂🍃🍂🍃

In Thanksgiving

After the fixings

Are prepared and

The table set,

The kitchen hums

With delight.

The turkey sizzles.

Vegetables pop

In sparkling hues.

The soft-lit house readies

To welcomes guests

Into the thankful gathering.

©CVarsalona, 2023

🍂🍃🍂🍃

On this day after Thanksgiving, I send wishes of gratitude for family, friends, and the Poetry Friday community. May our host, Ruth Hersey, be blessed as she opens her doors (here) to bring poetic goodness into the world this Thanksgiving weekend.

#PoetryPals August Challenge

Have you ever heard of an exquisite corpse poem? It has a strange name but it does not have anything to do with spooky happenings. It is a collaborative poetry game. For the August Challenge, the Poetry Sisters: Tanita Davis, Sara Holmes, Liz Scanlon, Mary Lee Hahn, Tricia Stohr-Hunt, Laura Purdie Salas, and Kelly Ramsdell collaborated to create an Exquisite Draft and also their own individual poems. Poetry Pals: Michelle Kogan and Linda Mitchell also partnered to write their own version. Since my time was limited this month I decided to use the Exquisite Draft that the Poetry Sisters wrote and branch off on my own. If you visit Linda Baie's Poetry Friday blog, you can find the individual poems from the above poets. 

An Exquisite Draft by Tanita, Sara, Liz, Mary Lee, Tricia, and Laura

They say the mind is garden-like, with thoughts as sprouting seeds
*but I’m left holding cuttings I’m not sure where to plant
Weedy-thick, the prickly buds of odd logic bloom:
*You don’t cry anymore, but you sing all the words.
Each line in a different language as the light shifts,
*trees turned so orange the road looked blue.
Words tangle, colors muddy in the palette.
*I am no longer winsome to the sun.
*a whole sun’s rise to share
there goes the one that got away
*found a bit of sunflower
and plucked every petal (by the way, he loves me)
and then I remembered
*That’s what you wrote about the green beans
Stockpile, then, that snap and sass to sweeten your September.

I took wording from the draft poem to create a nostalgic moment about my Nonnie's garden. I superimposed my text on a digitized original photo of one section of my Long Island garden. 

A Look Back

My draft with thanks to the Poetry Sisters' creative challenge

*Excuse the typo error with the word lonesome. 

With the start of a new school year, teachers might consider using mentor text to help students compose their own versions of a topic using a specific poetic format, the Exquisite Corpse poem. I now join Two Writing Teachers, a reflective community of writers, and hope to get feedback on what I wrote since this is the first time I played with this poetic form.

Thoughts for 2023

After what seems to be a long wait, the new year is here.  During the past month, I mulled over my past "one words" to guide my new year. As I listened to news reports and read articles on New Year's resolutions, I wondered why the one word phenomenon was not mentioned. After all, since 2014, I have changed my thoughts on resolutions that come and go. Instead of temporary, well-meaning thoughts, I add one word to guide my journey. This word follows me throughout the year and opens possibilities for me. I look back on my list and realize that each year's one word seems to build on the next. In 2021 AARP stated, "Picking a word of the year can bring clarity and focus to who we want to become and what we want to accomplish in life." Below is the digital art with all my one words created in Buncee: openness (2014), listen (2015), believe (2016), joy (2017), hope (2018), embrace 

(2019), balance (2020), begin (2021), and appreciate (2022).

By chance, I found a Dolly Parton song, "When Life Is Good Again", that she wrote with Kent Wells. The song with its lyrics made me think about life. The past few years have been a difficult journey for most people and now with the resurgence of another strain of COVID, plus the violence that has occurred, people need to rebuild their faith in humanity. Please listen to the song and 

Below is my prewrite, a poem to usher in my one word for 2023. It just so happens that nature played a role in uncovering my word on a day, unlike other New Year's Day. Instead of winter-like weather, we enjoyed a spring-like day. Spirits were high. Life felt good again.

Enter 2023

wrapped in sunshine

feel spring breeze through trees

design a baseline

as darkness fades into light

life feels good again

sit in stillness, prewrite

fill my space with zen

be more humane and kind

find ways to right wrong

leave heartaches behind

rejoice in birdsong,

then, snuggle into winter

energizing my soul

breathe in sprinter

heart-whole

©CVarsalona, 2022

Join me this week when I reveal my one word for 2023. 

If you have chosen one, please share it.

Let 2023 be the year for change, renewal, and peace!

Thank you for reading my Slice of Life. I am once again sliding into the midnight hour at Two Writing Teachers blog site, a place where teacher writers meet and share their stories. 

Happy New Years to All!

Summer Rainstorm Thoughts

 The storm is an artist: the rainbow is its masterpiece." -Matshona Dhliwayo 

This week, storms were explosive. Although rain was predicted, darkening clouds became the indicator that sent me scrambling to pick up my decorative pillows. The rains continued. The knowledge that my plants were being watered was a blessing.  That night, I watched in surprise. The night storms were like a show in themselves. Sudden and strong lightning bolts jolted me. All sightings were mesmerizing. I wanted to write to describe what I saw so I took a photo of my flowers enjoying their soaking. They may not look like the rains were showering them but they were tossed around quite a bit. 

 Let the rain touch my soul.

Let the rain splash my flowers with cooling drops.

Let the rain sing me to sleep.

The rain makes puddles of hope in my garden.

The rain makes loud splashing sounds on the patio.

The rain meets lightning and strikes through cracks in the sky at night-

And I watch in fascination.

©CVarsalona, draft

The mentor text I used to create this poem is April Rain Song by Langston Hughes. There is a lovely short video shot by the NY Botanical Garden that can be accessed on You Tube.

🌦🌧☔

I continue to add poetic offerings to my Poetryliscious Padlet for another gallery af artistic expressions. Lester Laminack, children's author, was honored to join the gallery as in the past. I gratefully uploaded his inspirational image poem. Please add a poem or artistic inspiration to the padlet please do.

Today is Poetry Friday and Elisabeth Norton is our host at Unexpected Intersections. She shares an original poem written while challenging herself to break routine and change directions. Her site is alreading filling with offerings of poetic goodness.

Fourth of July 2022 Memories

The 4th of July is always a festive event. Baking, enjoying time with family, having barbecues, and watching fireworks are traditional expectations. This year brought another set of photos and great memories. 

cook ready

hands steady

picnic treats

frosted sweets

outdoor fun

children run

flags waving

songs playing

evening sky

Fourth of July

cheers, applauding

sparklers soaring

celebration

our proud nation

©CVarsalona, 2022

The above poem was written after reading Fran Haraway's poem, The Fourth of July Parade.

The Fourth of July Parade

Stripes and stars,

Antique cars,

Pretty girls,

Baton twirls,

Spangled gowns,

Friendly clowns,

Smiling folks,

Papered spokes,

You can read the rest of the short poem at the Poetry Foundation.

🎆🎆🎆

The following poem was written for Slice of Life Tuesday at Two Writing Teachers. My blog post, Firework Magic, shares more digitized photos of Fireworks 2022 in Reston Virginia.

dazzling fireworks

dart into evening sky

pop, whizz, sizzle

like popcorn kernels bursting

showstopper entertainment

©CVarsalona, 2022

🎆🎆🎆

It is time to join Jan Godown Annino, this week's Poetry Friday host at her blog, Bookseed Studio. Jan is showcasing author Linda Sue Park's book, Tap Dancing on the Roof SIGO (Poems). Jan is also sharing her own sijo poems that include good twister lines. Enjoy the poetic goodness that can be found in the Poetry Friday Roundup.

#SOL22 March Musings Day 24: Late Night Thoughts

Presently, I am contemplating sleep

The kind that wraps me in a delicious dream,

Takes me to another dimension and

Pauses the check-offs on my to-do laundry list.

A few moments ago, I read through 

Several slices of familiar and new-to-me writers.

Time moves on, put down the pen, fall into a deep sleep,

The kind that takes me to another place and time. 

But right now, I realize my fingers are continuing to

Rhythmically type words that awaken my senses.

Inspiration flows postponing thoughts of sleep.

I find solace in the click, click tempo of one more thought.

Without delay, there is a soft nudge to rest.

The eye patch is no longer needed and sleep is calling.

I anticipate a restful sleep, the kind that refreshes the mind.

I wonder who else is writing late-night thoughts. 

©CV, 2022

Perhaps this song will help me sleep.

✍

I thank Aggie's Currently slice and Terje Akke's Right Now slice for their writing models.

Thank you Two Writing Teachers for this daily meeting place to connect with a community of reflective writers. 

Summer Afternoon by the Sound

Summer Afternoon by the Long Island Sound

I see it as it was, freshly frosted with summer's light

In August, with a shimmering glisten upon the water.

The stillness of the sound sparkling under the sun

as soft conversations glided on with no trace of discontent,

The socially-distanced placement of tables ready for

Multi-colored masks making their entrance,

The clink of glasses toasting the day,

The boats shimmering and the bright sun

Beaming in the glorious sky, colors dancing across water,

Whispers of unheard conversation, clatter of dishes

Passing by with a smoking speciality rising toward

Billowy summer clouds spread against a blue sky-

Stillness was noted as we spoke of anniversaries past.

All these simple visions of an afternoon by the sound

Linger in a time when quarantining changed our summer lives. 

It seems like July 31st was eons ago since a numberless array of dark days on Long Island  have passed after Tropical Storm Isaias raged. This memory was a brief afternoon of summer peace that brought back past Long Island summer days of warmth, free-spirited contentment, and serenity.  Tonight I thought why not lighten my mood so I found Emma Lazurus' poem of a Long Island Sound memory. Using her poem as a mentor text, I concentrated on the images described not the rhyming verse. This choice provided me with more freedom when sharing the sights I saw on Long Island's north shore ten days ago. 

Long Island Sound  by Emma Lazurus

I see it as it looked one afternoon

In August, - by a fresh soft breeze o'erblown.

The swiftness of the tide, the light thereon,

A far-off sail, white as a crescent moon.

The shining waters with pale currents strewn,

The quiet fishing-smacks, the Eastern cove,

The semi-circle of its dark green grove.

The luminous grasses, and the merry sun

In the grave sky; the sparkle far and wide,

Laughter of unseen children, cheerful chirp

Of crickets, and low lisp of rippling tide,

Light summer clouds fantastical as sleep

Changing unnoted while I gazed thereon.

All these fair sounds and sights I make my own.

Last week, I missed writing with Two Writing Teachers because of the power shortage caused by the storm. I did not want to miss the opportunity to connect with friends this week so I am happy to have found quiet time amidst the hectic pace of after-storm clean-up and prepping my house for prospective home buyers. As Slice of Life Tuesday begins, I link up to "engage with the stories of other slicers, connect and support each other as writers, as teachers of writers, and as humans living through challenging times." 

News:

Last month, I was sent an email from Anuj Agarwal, FEEDSPOT, #Feedspot Founder of Feedspot.com.  

I would like to personally congratulate you as your blog, Beyond LiteracyLink has been selected by our panelist as one of the Top 40 Children's Poetry Blogs on the web. 

 This link accompanied the email: https://blog.feedspot.com/childrens_poetry_blogs/.

Naomi Shihab Nye-Themed Roundup

Welcome, it's a Naomi Shihab Nye-themed roundup at Mary Lee Hahn's blog site this week. Did you know that Naomi has been named the Young People's Poet Laureate for 2019--2021 by Poetry Foundation?  Today, I dedicate my post in honor of Naomi, the amazing poet whose soulful heart and creative talent weaves words that dig deep into emotions. 

In preparing for this post, I read Naomi Shihab's poem, Famous, many times. Its simple repetition and depth of message in the final stanza resonated with me.

I want to be famous in the way a pulley is famous
or a buttonhole, not because it did anything spectacular,
but because it never forgot what it could do. 

I watched the video rendition of the poem here and then, thinking of my granddaughter who is celebrating her 2nd birthday in two weeks, I wrote.

My Grandma Wish 

I want to be famous in the eyes of a child,
who knows me by name, not because I did anything spectacular,
but because I never forget what being a grandma means. 
©CV, 2019

I used Naomi Shihab Nye's poem, Burning the Old Year, as a mentor text to write a birthday poem for my little Sierra Kathryn.




Remembering Early Years

Photos flash in chronological order.
Comments written on digital screens,
jubilant baby smiles,
rise like beach gulls,
soaring into year two.

So much of beginning life is remembered,
videos of first attempts, cherished toys.
Pink and perky milestones,
so little is a lost memory.

Where there was babyhood and suddenly isn't,
a babble of words flows, celebrates, fills the space.
I begin again witnessing wonders of grandbaby life.

Only the things I didn't do,
the moments I wasn't there,
Remind me to savor your childhood.
©CVarsalona, June 2019, Sierra Kathryn's 2nd Birthday

Now I am off to celebrate Naomi Shihab Nye-themed poetry at the Poetry Friday Roundup that Mary Lee Hahn is hosting.  

Notes:

-A previous blog post on Sierra Kathryn, is at Grandma Wishes.
-Please check out my invitation to salute spring, a creative challenge for the upcoming Spring Splendor Gallery that I posted last week. I would be delighted to have my Poetry Friday friends offer a digital inspiration on springtime. (Deadline: June 13th)