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…
Happy July! I am excited to announce that my poem “I Am From!” was voted Publication of the Month for June at Spillwords Press!!! 🎉
I am so excited to receive this award and recognition! Thank you to Dagmara K. and her team for providing a welcoming literary site for authors to share their emotions through words. It is truly an honor to be a part of the Spillwords Press community!
I offer my deepest gratitude to YOU for your ongoing support and vote, and for initially visiting Spillwords to read my poem, “https://spillwords.com/i-am-from/!”I am also humbled that my version of George Ella Lyon’s “Where I’m From” resonated with so many. And I’m grateful to Lori and Vicki for providing the writing inspiration. Please visit their beautiful blogs if you haven’t had the pleasure of meeting them yet. They are amazingand talented women, whom I call friends in this warm community!
Reflections
“I Am From” is displayed on the sidebar at Spillwords.com for the month of July if you’d like to take a peek!
A little more mush, thanks again from the bottom of my heart! And I wish you a happy and peaceful month of July! ❤️
I had a hunch this potato with a playful personality did some traveling, but now it’s obvious! He’s spending time with Manuela Timofte over at Gobblers by Masticadores! I’m thrilled because this cute little guy spreads smiles and joy, and we all could use more, wouldn’t you agree? Thank you, Manuela, for continuing to feature my writing, whether my words offer food for thought or entertain. I’m honored, as always. ❤️
Comments are closed because I hope you’ll visit Gobblers and give some love to Manuela! It’s so easy! Simply click on the link below. And I also invite you to leave a comment if you feel joyfully compelled. 🥰
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! ❤️
Baydreamer Writes ~ Lauren Scott, Author & Poet 