I realized this moment would come I knew the time would arrive, those hands on the clock theyâre always on the move – when I had dreamed of so much more for this special minute, I have no poemâŠ
even as I reflect while observing the hanging petunia, appealing in purple, swinging gently in the breeze or as I listen to my lab snoring softly, lying inches away, no poem has settled beside meâŠ
even as I watch the geranium reach in its rich wine-red wardrobe for the infinite wild blue and the lemon-yellow daffodil looking dapper in its shamrock finery, no poem has greeted me with a tender embrace.
I fear that as this moment journeys into the next, and the sun bids farewell, allowing the moon to play her part, and those dedicated hands continue to circle and mystify, my pen will lie dry as a desert riverbed, my paper bare as a wall without photos.
Still, I will remain empty handed without poetry to enrich my soul, but tomorrow when the sun ascends and the sky unfolds to new possibilities, it will be then when I shall try again.
A collection of poems that speaks of nature’s healing touch, howlove shapes our lives, and the mysteries of life. Click on the image to purchase your copy. Thank you! đ
A collection of poems about nature, love, and the mysteries of life. Click on the image to purchase your copy. Thank you! đ
Thank you for dropping in and I wish you a Terrific Tuesday!  Lauren â€ïž Photo by samer daboul on Pexels.com My camera never does justice for moon shots, so I chose to enjoy the moment.
Stones of burdens can seem like pebbles barely tripping us up in our routines, but sometimes, theyâre boulder massive, sliding us deeply into our heads when the need to escape from our own selves becomes vital for our sanity
we pause in our footsteps, holding our breath, fighting tears pushing as fiercely as a category five
but then our eyes look out the window following sunlight, focusing on the frost hanging on tips of tree branches as though adorned by sparkling jewels
they wink at us and those boulders shrink to pebbles with the sweetness of air, we inhale new life burdens we exhale, so we can breathe in miracles surrounding us – in those who hold our hearts, in every sight, every bloom, every soundâŠ
I walk through the front door, and with each step, a memory embraces me like a warm hug of sweet nostalgia, chatter and laughter echo in my mind leading me to the framed photos on the ivory walls that come to life – savory and sweet aromas whirled from kitchen to living room enticing palates, the television stayed on for background noise (when back then, streaming brought only thoughts of calm, flowing water) the vision of momâs lovely smile, the music of dadâs chuckle, what I would give for another moment to be with them – the enchantment of seven grandchildren running around wearing huge smiles, their giggles following their footsteps – before the lawn was laid and array of blooms were planted and the concrete basketball court was poured, nothing but earth in the backyard – sheâd relax on the chaise beside the new pool a million laps later, the turquoise still glimmers – fond memories of those chapters stay cozy in the walls in the cracks and crevices over the passing of time among the fleeting minutes⊠I step through the door, and it feels like home.
Valentine’s Day makes me think about people who are less fortunate. This day that is meant for romance and candy hearts sends my mind to the same place it travels to on Thanksgiving and Christmas. So, this poem is the result…
Candy hearts say Be Mine Red roses represent forever Fancy dinners for two in love A lifetime of togetherâŠ
Ahh, the joy⊠but my thoughts drift to the old man on Anderson Drive who wears his gray hair long, surrounded by treasures divine, and sits outside his raggedy, faded blue tent that balances on damaged poles, an office of esteem used to house the chair that wobbles beneath his body of bones
and I wonder about the young woman on Lincoln Avenue who burrows into a weathered, pea-green bag on the old bus stop bench – the scratched enclosure keeps her dry when raindrops fall on cue, buses pass by, heading to their next hub by the curb lies an old shoe
and the poor mutt curled up beside his master, ribs defined – who doesnât know why he only gets crumbs to lick up from the unwashed hand, but no leash keeps him bound – he knows not of despair, but loyalty he comprehends
So, I browse over the valleys of my pondering and wonder, do your thoughts also drift to defeated souls where hopelessness betrays faith, where life has taken a toll? Where is their place on this Valentineâs Day?
A collection of poems about nature, love, and the mysteries of life. Click on the image to purchase your copy. Thank you! đ
I wish Love would abound for Everyoneduring this Valentine’s Week. You see, as the years pass by, I view this special day not only for romantic love, but for feeling thankful for all the people in my life who love me and whom I love with all my heart.
A few days ago, a friend of mine surprised me with flowers and a card with such beautiful and thoughtful sentiments. I was truly touched, and the first thing that came to mind was gratitude…for so many things in my life. So, I’m sharing the flowers with you today and a poem from one of my favorite poets, Mary Oliver. Her words will give you something to think about…
The Summer Day
Who made the world? Who made the swan, and the black bear? Who made the grasshopper? This grasshopper, I mean – the one who has flung herself out of the grass, the one who is eating sugar out of my hand, who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up ââ and down – who is gazing around with her enormous and ââ complicated eyes. Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly ââwashes her face. Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away. I don’t know exactly what a prayer is. I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass, how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through ââthe fields, which is what I have been doing all day. Tell me, what else should I have done? Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon? Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?
Thank you again for all the love, hugs, and prayers. Please know that your kindness means a lot to me. The pain has either been silent or less intense this week; it’s so unpredictable, but I’m starting treatment soon, so I pray it will make a big difference.
Happy Friday, and I wish you a wonderful weekend ahead!There is no way to go but forward!
I had every intention to read blogs this past weekend, to ‘get caught up’ as we all say often. But last week I received a new diagnosis and the symptoms decided to bark loudly instead over the weekend. Concentration was far from reachable, but I took advantage of moments when the symptoms rested, and that’s when I put thoughts to paper in my journal. Please know that my transparency is not for sympathy. If you recall, I shared about a health issue that began last year, well, this is new, but the doctor thinks it’s all connected – ten months later, the big picture has changed. So, below is my catharsis in the form of a haibun (or similar to one with an extra haiku):
Compromised
The rain and wind collaborate for a stormy Sunday. I look through the window, a deluge of raindrops plummet to the street and lawns, and the tall oaks and firs bend unnaturally. Inside, the house feels safe and warm, but this new presence feels like a knife in the gut. What used to be an infrequent timeline is now an everyday visit. What used to be mild is now moderate, or sometimes, severe. A relationship I donât care to nurture. Pain closes in, becoming more intimate, but not the intimacy that makes my heart skip a beat. No, this type, and where it could lead, paralyzes because fear sidles up beside it. A duo not to be reckoned with. Cancer hasnât knocked on my door, nor has a death sentence. But the ability to walk long distances or hike on a mountain trail, slips through my fingers like tiny grains of sand.
My body feels broken â not fully â but broken – because my feet and legs take the brunt. I miss the âmeâ I used to be. And then there is sleep, or lack thereof because of throbbing and/or electric shocks, thieves in the night that rob me of those dream-filled deep slumbers. The persistence is like a doorbell gone wild. Negative thoughts push their way in for the spiraling, mirroring the stormy weather, but my inhale and exhale create a brick wall â blocking them from breaking me more. Although, no easy âfixâ heads my way, so each day I struggle to keep hope beside me. Focus on what I can do, they say. I try. Ask questions. Get answers. My mindset waivers, but the support encircling me helps keep my sky blue.
an MRI shows narrowing from wear and tear nerves agitated
he says it’s common not comforting to body spinal stenosis
(I’m exploring all treatment options, such as injections, meds, surgery, physical therapy, etc.)
I don’t know how this week will go or how much time I’ll spend blogging, but I’m hoping for quiet nerves. The weekend was yesterday; today is a new day. I also hope to get answers to many questions this week. Please know that I appreciate you all!
I’m writing this post as Friday evening is upon us. The sun hasn’t dipped behind the trees yet, but the photo above is one of my favorite images from ‘our’ lake in the Sierra Mountains. I will never own enough photos of sunsets and sunrises. Do you feel the same? It’s parallel with never having too many photos of our kids and pets. đ
Anyway,here’s a little update for those who haven’t heard…I did not win 2023 Author of the Year at Spillwords. However, I am super happy for my friend, Cindy at Unique Times, who did walk away with this award. Way to go, Cindy! Please check out her post to read more! I always leave her site smiling! She exudes joy no matter what she writes about.
And thank you to those who voted for me. Your support means more than you know, and it encourages me to keep on writing! Not to mention, being nominated felt like winning in itself. So, Congrats again to Cindy, to all nominees, and to winners in all categories! đ
Now to change the subject! I read some wonderful books last year and wrote reviews that I’m late in sharing, so here are a couple :
Neema the Misfit Giraffe by Robbie and Michael Cheadle
Robbie and Michael Cheadle are a talented mother/son duo writing team who have published several childrenâs books. Neema the Misfit Giraffe is their latest accomplishment, but although this book was written for children ages 2-9 years old, adults will enjoy Neemaâs touching tale. All ages will benefit from the lesson Robbie and Michael incorporate through easy-to-read rhyming verse. Neema doesnât fit in with the crowd that she deems as normal. She looks different than the giraffes she wishes to befriend, but they donât like her simply because of this difference. Instead of letting kindness lead, they allow prejudice to dictate their behavior.
The notion of judging a book by a cover is unending, but we know this isnât fair to anyone. Everyone has a story that deserves to be heard. Not only is the cover gorgeous, but the story of Neema is accompanied with lovely photographs from the duoâs personal adventures, along with Robbieâs incredible artwork. Video footage is also included that will take you to You Tube to watch these graceful animals in their natural habitats. Youâll enjoy the giraffe fun facts at the end of the story which offer an educational element.
I bought the paperback because Iâm in a book-collecting mode. But I also love the feel of the pages as I progress to the end. So, this lovely book comes highly recommended for children and adults who enjoy a good life lesson, a reminder of the wonderful ripple effect of showing kindness. And I highly recommend the paperback to fully appreciate the beauty of this book.
Locker by Michelle Ayon Navajasis a collection of 57 flash fiction stories with poetic ingredients sprinkled throughout the prose. I am familiar with the authorâs beautiful and evocative poetry, so to read these fiction stories was truly a treat that enlightened me to the scope of her talent as a writer. Locker, the title of this collection, obviously infers a compartment where personal possessions are safely kept, and a key is required to unlock it. But the word locker can infer a variety of meanings, such as âthe realization of another unlocked dreamâ as stated by Navajas in her introduction.
The stories can be read as stand-alone, but the commonality in each is the array of emotions the reader experiences that sometimes parallel with reality. Navajas touches on love, death, loss, betrayal, miscarriage, and abuse. As much as these fiction stories effortlessly drew me in, the Introduction alone was compelling. Navajas informs the reader that she is a dreamer, but her actions demonstrate that sheâs not only a talker but a doer. And she is not afraid of a challenge; in fact, writing fiction was her subsequent dream following the writing of poetry. However, flash fiction is not as easy feat. The author must condense the essential storytelling elements into 1500 words or less. Navajas convincingly executes this requirement. And her desire to learn a new form of writing would inspire any author to do the same.
I read Locker over the course of several days, taking my time and savoring each combination of fiction and poetic elegance. Not to mention, I intend to reread this collection. When I love a good book or movie, I delight in those second readings or viewings for new takeaways, components that were possibly missed the first time around. Additionally, in most collections of poetry or fiction, I dog-ear the pieces that stand out, and this book with its vibrant, amazing cover is dog-eared from the beginning to the very last page. A few favorites are: âKissâ, âAloneâ, âWithering Heightsâ, âPhotographsâ, and âGrowthâ.
Locker is for anyone who doesnât mind a soft nudge into revisiting their own âlockerâ while realizing that they are not alone in feeling the emotions that encompass their hearts and minds. The uplifting tone also offers encouragement to move forward after enduring the challenges and heartbreaks that befall us. Slowly savoring this story collection is highly recommended!
And now I’ll leave you with a song that has a timeless message, and it just might transport you back a few years. đ
Happy Friday, have a lovely weekend, and thanks for stopping by! Cheers! â€ïžđ„ P.S. More reviews of amazing books coming soon!
Baydreamer Writes ~ Lauren Scott, Author & Poet 