The world is beautiful, proof dances all around… leaves fluttering in a breeze, butterflies floating by with grace, but the world is more beautiful with him. Even if the sky unfolds, and a storm rages, his presence adds a glow to fade the shadows and quiet the fear. If the universe has stolen my spirit and descent is imminent, his arms catch me before the landing. He comprises the tones in my tapestry, rebirth in my rain, fire in my winter. He is everything around in between within the world I reside.
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.’
First of all, a huge thanks to you who left encouraging words on my prior post. I appreciate you so much, and the insight I gained provided relief for any future thoughts as I move forward. 🙏🤗 And now as promised, I’m spotlighting 4 books that I recommend adding to your towering TBR! They’re all poetry collections but touch on different topics. Enjoy!
Meadowlark Songs: A Motherline Legacy by Joy Neal Kidney
I was introduced to Joy Neal Kidney’s family history by reading Leora’s Letters, which is a book that touches on love, family, faith, loss, and resilience. Beautiful and heartbreaking. Meadowlark Songs offers the same effect: a culmination of excellent research into the depth of the women in Joy’s lineage. Through elegant poetry, prose, and priceless photographs, I was presented a window into seven generations, including the author who became “The Memory Keeper.” Guided by faith, each woman inspired the next, celebrating victories while encouraging strength and tenacity through loss and hardships. Every generational memory is one of love, admiration, and honor.
This book covers stories of farm life, of “Women in long dresses,” of good times and unimaginable sufferings. The genealogy began in Virginia but landed in the west where the Motherline planted roots in Iowa, the 29th State – five of the women lived in Guthrie County. Kidney’s account of her Motherline is poignant and highly recommended. A lovely example of her poetic voice is:
I Inherited Iowa
from ancestors’ long-ago decisions to settle here, a land of small towns, gravel roads to hike, meadowlark songs, the chirre of redwing blackbirds,
lilacs in spring, wild roses, lilies of the field, the call of pheasants, a neighborhood barred owl, a pork chop on a stick at the Iowa State Fair,
the Milky Way sprinkled across night skies, bur oaks sheltering pioneer graves, bountiful autumns, the hush of snowy Januarys.
The American flag gained two stars while I was in high school, the Pledge of Allegiance added two words, “under God.”
Though I’ve traveled the nation and abroad, I’m blessed by the choice of those long-ago pilgrims of Iowa, Beautiful Land.
Ancient Voices: Poems About Ancient Egypt by Dawn Pisturino
Ancient Voices by Dawn Pisturino is a beautiful, unique, and educational collection of poems and poetic tales expressing how “The Ancient Egyptians loved life and celebrated it with joy.” I researched along the way to appreciate the full essence of this informative compilation, hence, the educational element. And I appreciate the extensive research that was necessary for Dawn to create this book. Reading about other cultures and accumulating more knowledge is always satisfying. Her expertise of the Egyptian society is remarkable. I could spotlight many favorites, but I’ll share some lines from a couple that stood out:
Shu’s Breath
Shu’s light, airy breath curls around my feet, Warming my toes, Tickling my skin, Breathing his life-giving force into my body. I step boldly into the sunlight, Feeling his gentle kiss against my face. The sands stir softly as he walks beside me, Shielding me from the wrath of Ra. Sweat drips from my temples And rolls down my cheeks, A reminder of Tefnut’s tears As she trails behind us – her brother’s twin – Who shares his bed and bears his offspring: Nut, who stretches her body across the heavens, Catching the stars…
Ra’s Night Journey
The Ancient Egyptians worshipped the sun as the origin of all life and illumination and the Nile River as the source of all fertility and abundance. Keen observers of nature, they focused their attention on the revolving cycles of life: the changing seasons, the rise and fall of the Nile River, and the blossoming of new life after death….
If you’re a poetry fan, an Egyptian aficionado, or simply love learning about other cultures, I highly recommend this amazing collection.
Burning Butterflies by Robbie Cheadle
Burning Butterflies by Robbie Cheadle takes the reader on a journey through Southern African Flora & Fauna. This book is a lovely and eye-opening collection of poetry, photos, artwork, and video clips. Robbie’s paintings are stunning and augment her many talents. She is fortunate to have a front row seat to the precious African wildlife. Her poems are not only entertaining, but there are many details for the reader to learn. I always take away something new when reading about her African adventures. The photos continue to be awe-inspiring, while others are beyond endearing, such as a mama lion and her cubs lying in the sand.
Robbie is steadfast in her advocacy for these animals whose future remains grim, which is one of the qualities I admire about her. It’s appalling to be reminded of human greed and no respect for living creatures. Then factor in climate change where natural habitats are being destroyed, which affects the ecosystem. The entire collection either touches the heart or stirs emotions with a vital message that needs to be reiterated. Highly recommended. And since I have an affection for elephants, any type of artwork or poetry about these magnificent animals appeals to me.
Elephant
Elephant, you rise out of the veld like a mountain Spouting water and mud like a fountain People think your nature is gentle and kind But those who act inappropriately, trouble find
Your thoughtful eyes are brown, honey, or gray In puddles and rivers, you love to wallow and play Consuming vegetation in enormous amounts Any opponent, including a lion, you’ll trounce
You are known for your impressive memory And will do anything to protect your family With your trunk so clever and sensitive Saving your impressive species is imperative
An end to your days on this planet is approaching Due to human encroachment and mindless poaching It’s hard to understand the penchant for hunting tournaments Even less, the human desire for ivory ornaments
I can only pray for some sort of intervention That will give African wildlife much better protection Otherwise, the animal kingdom that’s existed for centuries Will continue only in the elderly’s faded memories…
Ink Stained Love by Ernest Federspiel
Ink Stained Love is the first book I have read by Ernest Federspiel, and now I know it won’t be the last. The poems in this beautiful collection speak of the many layers of love: loss, vulnerability, hope, and despair – all relatable human emotions. While engaging myself into Ernie’s poetic voice, I felt my heartbeat pulse with joy, but I also felt it shatter. His emotions evoked my own memories of past love that wasn’t meant to be, and of the love I share now with my husband of almost thirty-seven years. Reading through this collection was a moving experience, but to give you a peek into Ernie’s talent, I pulled some verses from poems that stood out:
Behind a Cloud
I know that when you see me I am the star behind a cloud And if you were my sunshine My star could shine so proud
The warmth that you could give me Would make a garden grow In the middle of that garden A rose that is my soul…
And yet, romantic love isn’t Ernie’s sole focus in his collection. He beautifully pens about his love for his mother, which I found to be endearing.
Dear Mom
I thank you for life lessons, and your kind and gentle heart For always being there even when we were miles apart I thank you for the forgiveness when I was caught doing wrong I want to give you the love that I have neglected for so long…
Remember
Simple things are no longer simple, fear has now taken their place But your love for me still brightens your beautiful face You’ll find sweet lady that I will always be right here To fight for you the battles of confusion and terror You brought me into this life and helped me to see Not everything is right or wrong, dementia scares the shit out of me!
This poetry collection will resonate in some way, so if you’re a poetry lover and appreciate verse that touches the heart, you’ll want to read this book.
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I hope you’re not leaving here empty handed. 😉 Have a wonderful weekend, and Happy Reading! ❤️
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 can reach her. She waits for me, gently hanging in the sky as black as the ink bleeding from my pen. But not so high that I can’t stretch and acquire, placing her in the palm of my hand. Now that I am in possession, I offer him the moon because he’s given me his heart from the very first date. We sat across from each other – only a white silky tablecloth separated us. December brought a magical evening. The moon had a hunch the night would become the foundation, so she illuminated for us, a couple whose lives were about to change in a magnificent way. But we knew, didn’t we? Young, yet old enough to know.
And I’ll leave the stars as they are, because even in the dark sky, he brings light to everything I learn, everything I know, and everything I touch. What is love without sappy sentiments? Language flows from my heart for only him to hear. A love back then before our eyes met that I wasn’t sure possible, and yet here we are, decades later, still feeling the fire. I can’t imagine the planets aligning without his soul. I can’t envision a forest without him as my redwood. I can’t picture sunshine without his laugh. I can’t imagine the calming of rain without him beside me. He says I’m the best thing that ever happened, but the same words tumble from my lips for him.
Into the future moving forward hand in hand love deepens with age
This haibun was inspired by our fast-approaching engagement anniversary. It’s been a while since I’ve written romance, so I hope you enjoyed. Thanks for gracing me with your presence in my corner of blogland, and have a wonderful day! 💖
This blog content cannot be used to train AI.
Available on Amazon, and Barnes & Noble, but click on the image to purchase your copy through Amazon.💜
I’m replicating my post from last year…It’s limerick time, and this collection was fun to work on, although a couple are more factual and not so delightful. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy!
Unselfish
She is a classy, lovely mother Who puts herself last behind others Their care comes first Health, hunger, or thirst They love her – daughter and brother.
Summer
How special to become a mother Devoted but not to smother To love and raise Till the end of her days Mothers are the essence of summer!
Special Day
The special day comes every year But not all hold their mothers dear Words criticize Make tears leak from eyes Sad those hearts didn’t hold their babes near
Smiles and Giggles
What a miracle to be a mom Caring for babes with a heart of calm Relish in their smiles Giggles heard for miles Music to a mother’s ear, a balm.
Not Fragile
Mothers are an exceptional class Their work ethic no one can surpass Cooking and cleaning Diapering and weaning They’re strong, not fragile like glass!
Warrior Soul
Caring for her children is her role Keeping them safe and happy is her goal A multitasker Sought after Her skills are plenty, a warrior soul!
DNA
DNA does not a mother make DNA may produce a mother fake Who only thinks of herself Baby’s needs on the shelf Baby’s life unimportant and at stake.
Flair
A mother’s talents are exhaustible But clearly, they’re not implausible Many balls in the air She juggles with flair Her demeanor is surely laudable!
Golden Worth
A mother’s love comes from her heart That blooms and glows from the start Cradling at birth A golden worth She’ll give her All to do her part!
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Do you have a favorite or two?Let me know if you do! 😁 Happy Mother’s Day Weekend to all the loving and unselfish moms who have hearts of gold, and to the moms who have left our world, but who live in our hearts. I’m thinking of Doris and Diane, my mom and mother-in-law.
Our son has been visiting from CO. so I haven’t been online as much. It was nice to celebrate his birthday with him, and it will be special to celebrate Mother’s Day with him tomorrow. Our daughter will celebrate with us from TN. I appreciate your presence here and wish you all a fabulous weekend!!! 💗🌺
I finally finished the last 5-star reviews of two incredible books. I hope you enjoy!
To purchase your copy, click on Buy on Amazon.
Whenever I immerse myself in a book by Diana Peach, I always fall deeply into the exciting worlds and believable characters. She is the author who converted me years ago into reading fantasy. Her beautiful prose parallels with diving into a C. S. Lewis classic. Tale of the Seasons’ Weaver is an enchanting and spellbinding story full of remarkable imagination. I was easily drawn into the extraordinary imagery from the first chapter. One sample of Peach’s magical writing is, “The sky joined into a conspiracy with the wind and thickened with charcoal clouds that piled on each other’s back.”
Erith, the protagonist, resides between two worlds. She is half mortal human and half possessing charmed blood. Because of these qualities, she feels as if she doesn’t belong in either world. But the complication lies with her mother bestowing her the title of seasons’ weaver. Erith must weave her first tapestry ode to spring. However, self-doubt clings to her like static electricity, and she remains hesitant to use her magical powers. Not to mention, she faces a multitude of obstacles. A massive hindrance being the Winter King who takes revenge on the human race. He suppresses the season of spring because of human hunters who harmed the enchanted forest.
The reader joins Erith on her quest, meeting a variety of magical creatures, some better to avoid such as water demons in the night, while others that fascinate like galiwhigs. Many entertaining characters, both good and evil, play a significant role in her growth, and Peach even adds a touch of romance to entice.
Will Erith be able to push aside her self-doubt in order to prevent the demise of all humans? Will the four seasons remain everlasting? I encourage you to discover the answers by reading this tale that I highly recommend!
To purchase your copy, click on image.
Reading The Garden of Love by Manuela Timofte is like sitting by a waterfall, allowing its ballad to calm your mind. My initial thought after the first few pages was, I need this now. The U.S. is spinning out of control in a myriad of ways. The world is doing the same. So, reading Timofte’s book was like enjoying one spectacular exhale, releasing all stress.
In the foreword she writes, “In our real garden, we may prefer certain flowers and try to eradicate certain weeds, but the flowers and weeds inside us define us as people and the life we lead.” Her hope with this book is that “we find the flowers we like, and the lines that resonate with us, and that they give us color, fragrance, understanding, and lots of love.” I discovered the flowers, the lines, I saw the color, inhaled the fragrance, realized understanding, and felt the love.
Timofte reminds us that we are all diverse, not only physically, but also in thoughts, emotions, and experiences. And no matter what, “we are brought here on earth to learn the lessons of love…true happiness does not lie in a job, money, religion, or political placards. It was and is all the time within us.”
There is so much of what she writes that I know in mind and heart but let slip aside as I trudge through my own agenda. It takes little effort to forget about love, and that we can’t take money and possessions with us when we leave this beautiful planet. I, too, am reminded that while some of these make life more exciting and comfortable, the bottom line is to live life knowing that our stay here on earth is temporary, but to leave without regrets – a mission that can be difficult to implement. So, I encourage you to grab a copy and a cup of tea or your preferred beverage and allow yourself that one spectacular exhale as you turn the pages. Highly recommended!
I’m also sharing a poem for you to ponder when you leave here:
Your Link
The link you grasp may be small But still, you will not fall With the firmest grip, hold on tight It’s not about fight or flight Just seizing the chain is vital No one is above you or entitled Whether the link is large or small Hold your head up high; stand tall! We all matter, the bottom line Our beliefs, emotions, goals in life We all matter of equal degree This is truth…not hyperbole!
Today sparks many thoughts, mostly happy and loving, but for me, there is more to this day than chocolate and roses. So, I’m combining two posts from the past, and if you remember these, I hope they resonate again…❤️
Valentine’s Day is an exciting day for couples to celebrate their love for each other. I also show my love not only for my husband, but for my family and friends who hold a special place in my heart. But we need to keep in mind that today isn’t joyful for everyone. Some people grieve the passing of their spouse or partner. Some hearts hurt from a breakup. Some people have chosen to be single, so today may not hold a huge significance for them. Some live on the streets. Some live with daunting diagnoses. So, let’s be mindful of the different scenarios that play out. If today is a joyful day for your heart, I implore you to take a moment to think of those who struggle in some manner…
Unseen Hearts
Candy hearts say Be Mine Red roses represent forever Fancy dinners for two in love A lifetime of together…
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 doesn’t 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 Valentine’s Day?
And now for a mixture of love poems from the past…
In Technicolor
A distant memory in technicolor… I want to rip the page from my mind’s photo album because my heart was foolish to fall for that man, our skies different our dreams astray, but the heart’s pulse beats to a tune of its own choosing, logic holds no leverage. Though this man wasn’t a cockroach, I never wished to stomp on him. And so, I’m grateful, for without that page I wouldn’t have stumbled upon the path that lead me to my love at last.
If the Universe Would Share
I whisper to him, “Do you see that blue luminous star? I choose it for you.”
If the universe would share, I’d pull the gleaming beauty from the constellations and place it in the palm of his hands.
We would sit upon a slow-moving cloud and dangle our legs into freedom.
I’d touch my lips to his, tenderly, then hunger would reel through our veins, tumbling us into a pleasant intoxication,
watching moonbeams pierce our private night sky.
Belonging
Do you trust me? Will you take my hand and let me lead the way to a place transcending boundaries of our reality? Let us get lost in tranquility – dancing to the majesty of the surroundings, feeling rhythm vibrate through our bones. For as long as our hearts desire, this is our destination. Time is but a memory. Its existence leaves no trace on the path where we tread. There is only you, me, and the intensity of our belonging to each other.
Baydreamer Writes ~ Lauren Scott, Author 