I recently spent a few hours at one of our county parks located in a cove off of San Pablo Bay. A beautiful day, but a little windy. Regardless, I enjoyed a deli lunch, a walk on the pier, the tranquil scenery, reading beautiful poetry by D.L. Finn, and of course, writing some haiku. Hope you enjoy the pics and poems:
a gaggle playing sunbathing and conversing year-long residents
sun comes out to play wind joins in summer respite hooded walk on pier
Observations
(a)
pickle ball on court tennis in shorter version healthy exercise
(b)
lost in the repose boats floating on bay look like dots in the distance
(c)
water entices let’s take a refreshing dip cold down to the bones
(d)
children dig in sand for shells, stones, and crustaceans treasures for their hearts
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An older photo courtesy of my son.
By the way, today is the last day to vote if you haven’t already. My poem “I Am From” is a nominee for Publication of the Month at Spillwords Press. Please click here to read the full poem from my last post.
So, if you have time, you may vote here. A Huge thanks to you who have already cast your vote. I’m honoredby your support. ❤️
Image courtesy of Spillwords
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Thank you for stopping by, and I wish you a fabulous week ahead! Can’t believe July is just around the corner! 💖
I am thrilled to share with you that my poem “I Am From” has been nominated for Publication of the Month by Spillwords Press! This recognition is an honor, especially, to be in the company of many talented writers. A huge thanks to Dagmara, her team at Spillwords, and to you for your amazing support by visiting Spillwords and giving my poem a ❤️ and/or leaving a comment. I appreciate you! 💝
Voting has begun and will conclude on Sunday, June 29th. I am asking for your support, but in order to vote, you’ll need to log in or register here: https://spillwords.com/vote/.
The winning publication will be prominently featured on the Spillwords.com sidebar throughout the entire month of July, gaining well-deserved recognition from our global audience. Below are the nominees:
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
I am from the well-liked and the shunned the self-doubt lodged on my shoulders the redwoods standing tall I am from planned and spontaneity clarity and ambiguity
I am from the Big Bear cabin on the corner from laps and splashes in Orange County pools I am from “When you have children, you’ll understand” I am from two sanctuaries for finding God to discovering faith near mountains and sand
I am from me unique, quirky, strong, kind, a used-to-be people-pleaser the third of three daughters I am from knowledge still pouring in like a flood of surging waters I am from gratitude for every little blessing from those I love, from being loved I am.
(Inspired by the poem “Where I’m From” by George Ella Lyon)
It’s never easy to ask for support, but I hope you’ll take the time to vote by June 29th, which you can do here. Thank you in advance, and I express my gratitude again to Dagmara and her amazing team at Spillwords for continuing to feature my work. It’s a privilege to be a part of her wonderful literary community. ❤️🙏
This positive potato is a tiny little guy with a big smile and round, black eyes. Have you seen him before around town or in a store? On a spring day is when we met, a moment I’ll never forget. He lifts spirits if they are low making things bright and all aglow. He’s a simple potato without complications, and he never asks for any explanations. I actually enjoy his company, his jolly, friendly vibe – better than any med a doctor would prescribe!
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 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.💜
we gaze in wonder textures and hues entertain in nature’s artwork
(b)
emotions layered piled on top of each other leapfrogging through heart
(c)
devoid of blossoms beauty in its own manner eyes appreciate
On a bike ride over the weekend, I had to take a photo of this beautiful cactus. I hope you enjoy my Monday haiku musings.Wishing you a fab week ahead, and thanks for stopping by. ♥️
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! ❤️
Baydreamer Writes ~ Lauren Scott, Author & Poet 