The hummingbird sips
with her lean, long bill,
fluttering all about
the painted petals,
her wings like
tiny propellers,
and she is unaware
of how lives have been
altered this year.
Not that she doesn’t care.
That isn’t the case at all.
But there is a job to be done.
If not her, then who?
Lauren Scott (c) 2020
I am aware that Mr. Raging Fire stole my thunder, and honestly, it boils my insides, but certainly not selfishly. I reminisce on the good times when the people expressed their love as I made my entrance. How I gracefully entered into their lives wearing pomegranate reds, cinnamon browns, and squash yellows. The energy buzzed like a walk on the red carpet – a highly anticipated moment. My sweet fragrance beautified a stroll around the neighborhood. My cool touch refreshed, replacing summer’s harsh existence.
I worked with patience and diligence, brush and paint in hand to create my vibrant landscape. Lovely memories as vivid as the colors of my wardrobe…
memories of yesteryear before Mr. Raging Fire barged in, interrupting the balance of the nature of seasons.
Now, a sense of dread has crushed that sought-after anticipation of my arrival. And yet, defeat has not prevailed. This new reality only means my effort must toughen up…paint and brush lie in wait at my fingertips. The artist deep within will continue to create for my lovely and loving people who appreciate the very essence of me.
Lauren Scott (c) 2020
Soft snow-white puffs float
among the gleam, no filter
Soon a clear blue view
Lauren Scott (c) 2020
(This was a welcomed surprise after smoke-filled air and sky for the last month. But the fires still burn and we continue to hold all of the fire victims in our hearts.) 💓💓
Lately…
the world sings virus lyrics
and lungs struggle to take in
gray air. I can’t help noticing
clouds parked on foreheads.
Looking to the horizon, dusty
cobwebs hang in each corner.
It’s time to dim the lights
out of memories, how life
once was. Fingers itch to
press life’s reset button.
Answers remain ambiguous.
I want to watch the sun
breathe in and out and
the moon ride the night
as stars dance in the sky –
trying to find my place
in an ever-changing
landscape.
Lauren Scott (c)
As blue embraces the glow
and pink shades shimmer,
I liberate my worries
then hope delivers.
With beauty so near
of a soothing deep sapphire,
thoughts become clearer.
I attended a painting party sometime ago and this landscape was my first attempt at painting anything, except for walls in the house. The process was so much fun and it was interesting to see the final masterpieces of the other “students.” Not a single one was identical. They were all vibrant and magical in the same color scheme, but included details only distinctive to the artist.
Then recently, a friend told me about Seguidilla poetry, which inspired me to write a poem to pair with the painting. And so, I present to you another first attempt. It’s good for the brain to step out of the box now and then and I hope you enjoyed both.
~Lauren 💗
Lauren Scott (c) 2020
The circle stretches miles long
Hands held, leaving no room
Baring the strength of steel
Some things cannot be forced
Tiny nuances glow in time
The truth, clear as pure water
Emotions flood out
Frenzied with freedom
The agony is extreme
Floating…down, down
Falling reckless
Into arms open wide
To guide and to calm
Into moving forward –
The circle remains as is
Lauren Scott (c) 2020
I stare at this page,
milk white as the
blanketed ground
in winter’s staging.
Where are the syllables
to create
a mixture of magic?
I fear they have flown
to faraway places,
across desert dunes
and boundless oceans
and might not return
so that I may tell him
(again)
how irreplaceable he is.
Instead,
I’ll touch his lips
with mine
and steady myself
in the arms of a man
who is satisfied
with my simple existence.
Romantic musings from years ago for this Monday…
Wishing you a peaceful day.
Lauren xo
Each day, we search within ourselves to find beauty that soothes us during these pandemic times. I’ve always loved flowers and what they symbolize: New Life and Hope. But I’ve never had a green thumb – hubby has two for both of us. Given the fact that we’ve lived under a dismal cloud since March, blooms have been more dazzling than in past years. Did I value these precious gifts before? Or did I take them for granted? Have you wondered the same?
This weekend, I planted white alyssum and orange geraniums (of course, with the guidance of Mr. Hubby Green Thumb). Their brilliance enriches our landscape of pinks, purples, and reds. I’ll admit, though, the whole process was hard work, but I felt quite accomplished when the job was done. And when I gave them their first drink of water, it was as though I could hear them sigh…Now I have a better appreciation for those who find planting annuals and perennials cathartic.
We know beauty lies in many other forms, poetry for one, and recently, a friend sparked my interest in writing a Triolet poem, a form I’ve never dabbled in. So, because I’ve been profoundly drawn to flowers this year, below is my first Triolet attempt with them in mind…
Blossoms
They’ve graced us with their presence
But have we missed their shades in haste?
In this shelter are there lessons?
They’ve graced us with their presence
And mastered their attendance
With joy and beauty interlaced.
They’ve graced us with their presence
But have we missed their shades in haste?
I hope you enjoyed my Triolet and I’m sharing these blooms that were part of my Mother’s Day gifts from my husband. Lately, I’ve been into the vibrant oranges, yellows, and reds. Aren’t they gorgeous?
The impact of Covid-19 has been different for all of us, but I hope you will search within to find some form of beauty each day to carry you through. Stay safe and well.
Sending love and virtual hugs,
Lauren ❤❤❤
