I’m thrilled to share that my poem “As This Moment Journeys Into the Next” is live on Gobblers and Chewers! Thanks so much to Manuela Timofte and her staff for this opportunity. I am very grateful!
As This Moment Journeys Into the Next
I realized this moment would come I knew the time would arrive, those hands on the clock they’re always on the move – when I had dreamed of so much more for this special minute, I have no poem…
To read the rest of the poem, click here, and thank you for your support! Also, please consider subscribing to Gobblers to enjoy poetry from a whole host of talented writers!
Hubby and I tried out a new coffee place Saturday morning and it was very cool (and delicious)!
I splurged on a blackberry peach scuffin and chai latte, and hubby had good ‘ol coffee and a breakfast sandwich. Yum!
After we finished eating, we enjoyed our drinks while walking around the charming old downtown. We both bought a new book to add to our towering TBRs (how could we pass up the bookstore?), and when I saw this mural, I thought of my dear friend, Resa, who goes on adventures, seeking amazing and emotive murals. This one isn’t huge, but the colors, joy, and positivity caught my eye:
I couldn’t see the name of the artist…Too bad the shadow overshadowed this one! Not the best photo, but a new bloom on our patio.
I’m ending this beginning-of-the-week post with a poem that was inspired by all the rain we were getting. The sun will be in the spotlight this week though…
Your Best Interest
Steel gray clouds battle it out with the golden orb, moving slowly to the naked eye, desiring to cleanse – Mother Earth is on their side.
But the golden orb wishes to slide into place to shine for spirits to rise.
Tragedy and bloodshed fill screens causing our souls to weep again.
Which one will prevail? Which will you applaud for? Cleansing or joy? Isn’t it a toss-up?
And yet, emotions lie in our hearts. We choose to let joy flow, instead of falling to our knees, because if there is a way to help, we will lend a hand, we will lend our hearts.
So, make the choice that befits your best interest. Then you will see…
Thank you for visiting today, and I wish you a good week! ❤️
Can you believe that I’ve never written a limerick? Well, I felt inspired and had fun with these attempts. Some are witty, but a few are more serious. So, I hope you enjoy, and if I made you laugh or others resonated, let me know in the comments below. And remember, these are attempts, so go easy on me! 😃❤️
A teen Copper. He’s now a senior.
Copper
There once was a dog named Copper Who sported a nice set of choppers. He’d wiggle for treats. His favorite were meats. He’d be the best eager shopper!
Clouds
The clouds hang gloomy and gray Not making for a very fine day. But joy lives in hearts. Takes one thought to start invoking a warm, glowing ray!
Doe
There once was a beautiful doe. She didn’t know which way to go. Her hills were so dry, She wanted to cry, Still, some say change isn’t so!
Mallards
Mallards relax on the water Unaware of the human spotter. They find their mate, A temporary date, Then succumb to the steadfast stalker!
African Gray
The African Gray talks up a storm. His conversing is part of his norm. He’ll say “Good morning!” Flap his wings for soaring. He mimics and loves to perform!
Sam and Pam
She lives in a web and her name is Sam. She loves her twin sister whose name is Pam. Their conduct is friendly. They spin their silk gently. But they keep to their own, so scram!
She’s Smart
She’s smart but lacks self-confidence. She builds many walls and a fence. Prefers to stay home, Would rather not roam, Her way of thinking doesn’t make sense.
Women
Women’s bodies are a topic. Some thoughts are myopic. It is their choice. They have a voice. Their value is not microscopic!
Diagnosis
The diagnosis came September. Sad news I will remember. I had to adjust. Accepting, a must, Though pain like a burning ember!
Young Lab
There once was a friendly, young lab With energy delightfully fab. He loved belly rubs. Hated baths in the tub. He gave big, toothy smiles, never sad!
Bloom
Flowers delight in vivid bloom To adore through the month of June. Their colors so brilliant, Grown with resilience, Brings sneezes and a feeling of doom!
The tempest held its vigil on the horizon but continued to fool her. Devotion in his eyes mesmerized her whole being, awakened every pulse in her body. Eyes that spoke the language of love where their future glowed like an apricot dawn. She bestowed her heart permission to be swept into his pools of blue…
And yet, every day she anticipates the sting from his hand – the palm or back, makes no difference. The sting smarts like hell, but her heart secures the brunt of the damage. The slaps begin early each morning if she doesn’t move fast enough to appease his caffeine demands. And it’s ironic that he chose ‘chalet’ for his cell alarm because the calming tone contrasts to his horrific demeanor. After he walks through the front door following a day’s work, if she so much as smiles unknowingly to his disliking, his hand finds her cheek, and she feels the strike of skin even before impact. 5 p.m. on the mantel clock makes her heart pound as though trying to make a getaway.
They found their beautiful house together in a quiet neighborhood without sidewalks. Neighbors walk in the middle of the road, usually with leash in hand and their dogs beside them. Light traffic allows them to do this. Theirs is a ranch style with four bedrooms for their future children, he used to say. He told her that he couldn’t wait to be a father, which warmed her heart because becoming a mom in a year or two was her wish. A huge oak tree stands in the front yard covered in a lush lawn. Orange, yellow, and red marigolds decorate the walkway, and lavender hydrangeas and pink roses lean against the front of the house. But now the house that once was a home mirrors a prison. Cameras keep their eyes on her as he watches from his downtown office. Claustrophobia slithers down her spine. She struggles to quell the panic attacks. And her cell is meant only to reach him or to answer his calls. He tracks her like a wild animal. The ring on her finger stole all contact from the outside world – lost like a loved one’s passing. Grieving has no end, but she doesn’t dare misbehave because the pain is relentless.
She recalls the beautiful moments when his hands would send tingles from her neck down the map of her body. What did I do wrong? consumed her every thought when he transformed from loving husband to beast. Thoughts that became so tangled, she couldn’t ruminate until the truth stared her in the face. Her cheeks grew hot like asphalt in August from the realization that the monster had always existed.
Before the perfect couple whispered those two celebrated words on that breezy afternoon, signifying “You are my forever person,” he wore charm impeccably like a well-pressed dress shirt – his kisses intoxicating as jasmine, gentle like summer rain – respect enfolded in each embrace. Then donning satin and lace, the solitaire sparkled like her heart and soul, but true personas can take cover behind convincing eyes and smiles.
How could she have missed the signs? She ponders over and over.
Time – revelations, decisions, and strategies always take time. Her defense, submission, though she loathes appearing weak, and the agony tests her strength. But the path will wend its way, leading her to a door for a fresh start, caressing her bruised face and her body, his punching bag.
Gazing out the window, she watches courage whirl among the cottony clouds. Around the corner, freedom waits with intensity, as though motioning for her to come closer, excited for her new, safe beginning. She witnesses a glimpse of hope in the pink daisy pushing through the crack in the sidewalk.
But biding her time means life, and staying alive is her objective. She must bleed toughly. Resilience is her saving grace and not meant to be scattered on the floor, anymore. She must be smart to be free.
A collection of poems that speaks of nature’s healing touch, howlove shapes our lives, and the mysteries of life. Click on the image to purchase your copy. Thank you! 💚
I am thrilled to be featured on Spillwords Press as part of their ‘Spotlight on Writers’ Series and my interview is live right now! Thanks so much to Dagmara and her team for offering this amazing opportunity. It’s a wonderful feeling to be recognized and to have a platform such as Spillwords to showcase my poetry. I am truly honored and grateful! And now for a peek at the interview beginning with Question #1:
Where do you hail from?
I was born in Palo Alto located in Northern California. But since my parents shared an excitement for moving, when I was two years old, we relocated to Cypress in the southern part of the state. The neighborhood where I began kindergarten evokes memories of playing with tadpoles and a frog the size of a football that I named Sam. When I was eight years old, we moved to Anaheim with Disneyland in our backyard. Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck, and the rest of his cohorts became friends. I met a girl who lived around the block, and our friendship remains to this day. She and I spent most of our time in the magic kingdom when ticket books existed, and e-ticket rides were the best! Three years later, my parents packed up the house again, but this time, traveled across state lines to New Mexico. We lived in a beautiful brick house where wintertime brought snow for our brown and white springer spaniel to romp around in. But after four years, back to Southern California we headed. Moving frequently in my childhood was difficult – changing schools, leaving old friends, and making new friends. But my parents had their reasons, so I didn’t harbor any resentment toward them. Fullerton became my high school home, and the last one before I moved out on my own. Who knew that in the future, I’d find my way back to the northern part of the state with my husband and children.
If your interest is piqued and you’d like to read the full interview, click here and you will gently be carried over to Spillwords. Or you can simply click on the Spillwords image below. And if you would be so kind to give me a friendly ❤️ while you’re over there, you won’t need an account. But if you’d like to leave a comment, you will need to log in, and of course, I’d love to read your thoughts! Either way, if you cheer me on, I’ll greatly appreciate it! 🙏
Voted Author of the Month for May 2023
Thank you so much for stopping by, and please know that I appreciate you! 🙏🩷
A collection of poems that speaks of nature’s healing touch, howlove shapes our lives, and the mysteries of life. Click on the image to purchase your copy. Thank you! 💚
I realized this moment would come I knew the time would arrive, those hands on the clock they’re always on the move – when I had dreamed of so much more for this special minute, I have no poem…
even as I reflect while observing the hanging petunia, appealing in purple, swinging gently in the breeze or as I listen to my lab snoring softly, lying inches away, no poem has settled beside me…
even as I watch the geranium reach in its rich wine-red wardrobe for the infinite wild blue and the lemon-yellow daffodil looking dapper in its shamrock finery, no poem has greeted me with a tender embrace.
I fear that as this moment journeys into the next, and the sun bids farewell, allowing the moon to play her part, and those dedicated hands continue to circle and mystify, my pen will lie dry as a desert riverbed, my paper bare as a wall without photos.
Still, I will remain empty handed without poetry to enrich my soul, but tomorrow when the sun ascends and the sky unfolds to new possibilities, it will be then when I shall try again.
A collection of poems that speaks of nature’s healing touch, howlove shapes our lives, and the mysteries of life. Click on the image to purchase your copy. Thank you! 💚
I had every intention to read blogs this past weekend, to ‘get caught up’ as we all say often. But last week I received a new diagnosis and the symptoms decided to bark loudly instead over the weekend. Concentration was far from reachable, but I took advantage of moments when the symptoms rested, and that’s when I put thoughts to paper in my journal. Please know that my transparency is not for sympathy. If you recall, I shared about a health issue that began last year, well, this is new, but the doctor thinks it’s all connected – ten months later, the big picture has changed. So, below is my catharsis in the form of a haibun (or similar to one with an extra haiku):
Compromised
The rain and wind collaborate for a stormy Sunday. I look through the window, a deluge of raindrops plummet to the street and lawns, and the tall oaks and firs bend unnaturally. Inside, the house feels safe and warm, but this new presence feels like a knife in the gut. What used to be an infrequent timeline is now an everyday visit. What used to be mild is now moderate, or sometimes, severe. A relationship I don’t care to nurture. Pain closes in, becoming more intimate, but not the intimacy that makes my heart skip a beat. No, this type, and where it could lead, paralyzes because fear sidles up beside it. A duo not to be reckoned with. Cancer hasn’t knocked on my door, nor has a death sentence. But the ability to walk long distances or hike on a mountain trail, slips through my fingers like tiny grains of sand.
My body feels broken – not fully – but broken – because my feet and legs take the brunt. I miss the ‘me’ I used to be. And then there is sleep, or lack thereof because of throbbing and/or electric shocks, thieves in the night that rob me of those dream-filled deep slumbers. The persistence is like a doorbell gone wild. Negative thoughts push their way in for the spiraling, mirroring the stormy weather, but my inhale and exhale create a brick wall – blocking them from breaking me more. Although, no easy ‘fix’ heads my way, so each day I struggle to keep hope beside me. Focus on what I can do, they say. I try. Ask questions. Get answers. My mindset waivers, but the support encircling me helps keep my sky blue.
an MRI shows narrowing from wear and tear nerves agitated
he says it’s common not comforting to body spinal stenosis
(I’m exploring all treatment options, such as injections, meds, surgery, physical therapy, etc.)
I don’t know how this week will go or how much time I’ll spend blogging, but I’m hoping for quiet nerves. The weekend was yesterday; today is a new day. I also hope to get answers to many questions this week. Please know that I appreciate you all!
What a surprise I discovered last night to find an email from Dagmara at Spillwords Pressinforming me that I have been nominated for Author of the Year for 2023!
The following nominees for Author of the Year are:
SmithaV Michelle Ayon Navajas Cindy Georgakas Lauren Scott Suman Pokhrel Verity Mason Nial Crowley Vidya Venkataramanan Caroline Ashley Adele Evershed Rob Wilcher Dawn DeBraal Ernie Stricsek
So, this is the time when I ask for your vote, and voting begins today and will end on Wednesday, January 31st. You will need to log in to vote, but all I can do is ask. You may cast your vote by clicking on this link: https://spillwords.com/vote/
Baydreamer Writes ~ Lauren Scott, Author & Poet 