it could be a lunch at our favorite café it could be a chat, laughter, and stroll through the mall it could be sharing a morning coffee with a stunning sunrise it could be gossip on the patio it could be a Sunday dinner it could be a weekend away for mom and daughter…
but it can’t for now as long as geography gets in our way as long as circumstances dictate so I’ll continue missing her, comforting my hurting heart until the next trip in the air.
i thought i’d get used to it i thought time would heal well, time has done diddly-squat so, if i allow the distance to take up residence in my thoughts, i’ll just add one more ache to my medical records.
My goal to publish this special book last month obviously didn’t happen. Sometimes, I wonder if the editing will ever end. I’m working on Ingramspark, and this week I will progress to the next step for them to review. Then I’ll have to see what comes next. I toyed around with various title ideas, but then ‘King Copper”‘popped into my mind and it lingered like a warm hug. He was the king in our house, and you can tell in the cover photo below that he wore the crown well and looked so handsome. What a gentle 80-lb giant he was. Sigh.
Anyway, now I’m hoping to publish King Copper: Our dog’s life in poetry this month. But we’ll have to see if any glitches jump in the way. I believe the editing is finally done. With this being said, unless we make last-minute changes, this is the final cover. The dark chocolate color scheme ties into Copper’s mixed chocolate lab breed. Other shades of brown just didn’t work. I also like the idea of dark chocolate, a rich beginning into this poetic journey of Copper’s wonderful life. I hope you like the cover too.
More updates will follow regarding the publishing date, and life sure is interesting, isn’t it? You know this book wasn’t planned. But I had already written joyful poems about Copper when he was with us, so when he passed in March, I began writing poetry for therapeutic reasons. He was my 3rd child, and even though he was elderly, his passing was “still too soon.” Reading this collection of poetry will take you on an emotional roller coaster from joy to grief to acceptance. And sharing our life about our beloved senior pup will hopefully provide comfort to everyone who is also grieving the loss of their pet, or has done so in the past.
A poem from the book…
Will you?
Will you remember us when you cross the rainbow bridge where grass stays emerald green high upon the tallest ridge?
Will you wait for us when our time for crossing arrives to be a family once again filling the hole in our lives?
But before we reunite be your happy, playful self run and sniff, no pain, be free your joy and freedom is our wealth. ❤️
Sending love, and if you have a furry family member, give them a hug for us. ❤️
Even though the sky was a stunning canvas of vibrancy yesterday morning, my mind was in a funk. Worries flooded each thought, and each worry got stuck like gum under a school desk. But I had to get on with the day – first stop was the post office. I was happy to see that street parking was ample. As I pulled up to the curb, I noticed the truck in front of me was about to leave, so I waited. When the truck pulled out, I pulled up, leaving room for parking behind me. I’ve done this a million times before, and sometimes finding a parking spot feels like winning the lottery. Plus, it’s nice to be able to park with lots of room rather than attempting to squeeze in between two cars. Why not make things easy for the next person?
After I finished inside, I headed for my car. As I sat with my foot on the break, hands on the wheel about to leave, a woman pulled up beside me, motioning for me to roll down my window, which I did. She said, “I just want to thank you for pulling up so that the lady behind me and I could pull in right behind you. There’s a lot of rudeness nowadays, so we found your gesture to be very kind.”
“Of course, I was happy to do that.” I replied, a bit surprised by her kind gesture for the same reason. Then we both went on our merry way. However, the funk that dominated my thoughts earlier had dissipated because I brought a smile to two women from a little bit of kindness. What could have been a frustrating undertaking for them was made a little easier – the gift of a parking space!
This moment yesterday may seem unimportant, but my experience proves that not only does a simple act of kindness brighten the recipient’s day, but it does the same for the ‘kindness provider.’
Blue sky whispers words of tranquility Each syllable falls like a leaf in autumn Open your hands to the wisdom, cold-shoulder the noise whirling around, causing a bottleneck of worry Let the sun’s rays seep into your soul flowing gently on its journey, pulling you from edges of despair Let the warmth calm the chill that strives to take possession
If your heart is broken, take time in picking up the pieces just tap into the strength deep inside – the jagged edges are dull to your skin, you’ve been cut before so now you’re tough, the sight of red doesn’t shock you into paralysis
Each fragment tells your story, and you matter The pieces in all their perfect imperfection will fit perfectly again
Remember to follow the blue keep your eyes looking upward because the blue holds hope, and moving forward is impossible without even a glimmer…
Dear Friends, I apologize for my silence this week, but it’s not because my world has been silent…
Dear Tinnitus,
You arrived like an earthquake without warning. One day you simply shook my essence. You could be birdsong, a river flowing, soft rainfall, a symphony, a beautiful melody, but instead, a low hiss.
A negative mind could say like a punctured tire. A positive mind would say like soothing white noise.
I’m thankful you don’t roar like thunder. I’m thankful you don’t steal my ability to function… to live.
But sleep? Laying my head down on the pillow with you beside me is anything but relaxing.
Everything unpleasant requires mind over matter, so, I repeat, “I’m fine, I’m fine!” Eventually, my mind falls into a slumber.
Things can always be worse.
The pros:
I can still hear the sounds I love. You’re not horribly loud. The train of life moves forward. You didn’t bring pain with your baggage. Your visit could be temporary. It’s not life-threatening. You’re common.
The cons:
I feel trapped inside you. No escaping. A sense of claustrophobia. I’ve had enough. Let me out! Falling asleep is challenging. Your visit could be permanent. Living with you is life changing.
I miss the solitude of silence, and now masking your constant presence is a must.
It is a privilege to blow out birthday candles each year, but with aging comes possible bumps in the road. So another bump may have tripped me up, but it won’t keep me down!
Mind over matter…
I hope your stay is temporary but knowing you could decide to hang out with me for the duration of my life, I might just need to get used to you. So, I (once again) take One day at a time.
Note: We experience things in life that we don’t always welcome, but life inspires writing – the reason for sharing my experience. I’m also open to any encouraging words.
Working on my Copper book and book reviews were paused this week because of this new diagnosis. Learning about tinnitus and how I can manage it has taken precedence. But soon I’ll post reviews for the following books: Burning Butterflies, Ink Stained Love, Ancient Voices, and Meadowlark Songs.
I appreciate you, and I hope life is treating you well! Love and hugs, Lauren ❤️
This post honors all loving fathers who do their best ‘to be the best’ for their children. To begin with, for my husband, our fathers who have passed and are missed more than I can express in words, and to my brothers-in-law…The poem below was written about my husband, Matt, from my poetry collection, Ever So Gently.
Beneath the Big Golden Sun
He was their hero when they were young, teaching of nature beneath the big golden sun. They tried on their packs before feet hit the trail. He’d say, “Be prepared or else you could fail.”
The trio trekked down paths and up inclines too, pausing along the way to admire a flower or two. After arriving in camp, they helped pitch the tent, stakes in the ground, windows unzipped to vent.
As an Arborist, he educated them about trees under the blue sky beside the buzzing honeybees. They explored the ground seeking burrowing bugs. He expressed praise with words and loving hugs.
When the sun faded at the end of a day, they roasted marshmallows, found dominoes to play. His first goal was fun in nature, then came self-reliance. Their minds were like sponges, soaking up the science.
Now they reminisce for the best teacher he was and recall the bonding with the deepest of love. Now he’s proud of them, adulting and doing it well, honored with the memories, the special stories to tell.
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It’s always fun to take a walk down memory lane…
A younger FIL, who taught his son (Matt) about hiking and the great outdoors.
A fave of hubby and my dad after Mom passed.
My mom passed in 2012, Dad in 2017, and Wil (FIL) in 2023. I don’t know where the time has gone for life to continue without our parents. But like all loved ones who leave our earthly world, they live in our hearts. And the photos we have become more precious each day. It’s just that these special holidays that pay tribute to them are spent differently. I miss the noisy, family get-togethers. We’d gather at our house, or Mom and Dad’s, or one of my sister’s homes. Those days remain only vivid memories. My sisters live in So. Cal. And our son and daughter live in CO. and TN. so we won’t see them in person, but a video chat will sustain until the next plane flight.
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By the way,DNA doesn’t make a good father. Actions Speak Louder than words, as we’ve heard before. A biologically connected man who neglects his children isn’t a good dad. A great father is a man who is emotionally available and actively involved in a child’s life.
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SO HAPPY FATHER’S DAY TO THESE SPECIAL MEN IN MY LIFE AND TO ALL THE FATHERS AROUND THE GLOBE! MAY YOU HAVE A FABULOUS CELEBRATION! 🎉
“The greatest gift a father could give to his children is his time.”
Enjoy your weekend, and Thanks for stopping by! I appreciate you! ❤️
I am thrilled to share with you that my poem, “I Am From” is published on Spillwords Press today! Thank you to Dagmara and her team for accepting my recent submission. It is always a great honor to have my writing featured on her wonderful platform, and to be in the company of so many talented authors, some of whom I consider friends here in blogland.
You may recall my prior post, but if not, here’s a little back story…”I Am From” was inspired by Vicki’s poem that intrigued me. Please pop over to her lovely sight for inspiration: https://victoriaponders.com/2025/04/28/echoes/. She was originally inspired by Lori’s post: https://loripohlmanwriter.com/2025/04/25/polished-maple-tables/in which I also visited, feeling the same rush of inspiration. They both spotlighted the poem “Where I’m From” by George Ella Lyon. And my version is:
I Am From
I am from my mom’s emotions that had a mind of their own so wild at times emulating a summer storm I am from my dad’s humor where smiles bloomed but his temper too in my less patient moods
I am from flower petals I did not plant Mom’s were nurtured – my thumbs weren’t green yet the petals’ beauty is always seen I am from butter, sugar (granulated and brown), vanilla, baking powder and soda, and nuts, yes, sometimes this is the case, and chocolate chips in their tantalizing ways
I am from the moon in her mystery The sun in his radiance The lake in its serenity…
You can read the full poem here,and please don’t leave without giving it a ❤️. You only need to log in if you’d like to leave a comment. Either way,I’d appreciate your support!
Thanks again to Dagmara K. and her team, and thanks to you for stopping by! I hope to see you at Spillwords! ❤️
I’m excited to share that my poem “The Middle” is live today on Gobblers by Masticadores! To give you a little back story, when I wrote this poem, life had changed tragically for a family member. Since then, there have been many improvements which I believe are miracles. But life still isn’t the same and a daunting question mark hangs in the future. Our family continues with positive thoughts and prayers. And I want to offer a huge thank you, as always, to Editor, Manuela Timofte, for featuring my writing.
The Middle
It doesn’t matter if we’re celebrating the best thing that ever happened, or staring at our heart lying on the floor in millions of tiny pieces. Time moves ahead (seemingly) as if we pushed the fast forward button. Those hands on the analog clock have a mind of their own, turning and turning, making our heads spin, wondering where the hours have gone. Where have the hours gone? How does a decade ago feel like yesterday? Why does my mind tell me I’m forty when my driver’s license tells me I’m wrong? Just yesterday, my daughter and son played with Lego and Barbies. Today they’re adulting, living with bills that show up in the mailbox on a monthly basis. Always prompt. Just yesterday, I took my last photo of our senior pup, not knowing it would be the last photo I would take of him...
To read the full poem, please visit Gobblers by clicking on the link below. Thank you so much, and I wish you a wonderful week in this new month of June. ❤️
Available on Amazon, and Barnes & Noble, but click on the image to purchase your copy through Amazon.And a friendly nudge to share a review online if you loved Cora’s Quest. Thanks so much! 💜