Resilience is Her Saving Grace

On March 29, 2024March 31, 2024 By Lauren Scott, AuthorIn Fiction Short Stories88 Comments

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,
how love shapes our lives, and the mysteries of life.
Click on the image to purchase your copy. Thank you! 💚

Spillwords Interview for ‘Spotlight on Writers’ is Live!

On March 23, 2024 By Lauren Scott, AuthorIn Interviews, Poetry70 Comments

Dear Family and Friends,

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! 🙏🩷

As This Moment Journeys Into the Next

On March 14, 2024March 14, 2024 By Lauren Scott, AuthorIn Poetry88 Comments

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.

Compromised

On February 5, 2024February 6, 2024 By Lauren Scott, AuthorIn Poetry111 Comments

Dear Friends,

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!

Love and hugs, Lauren ❤️🙏

A collection of poems about nature,
love, and the mysteries of life.
Click on the image to purchase your copy.
Thank you! 💚

Nomination for 2023 Author of the Year from Spillwords Press!

On January 26, 2024January 27, 2024 By Lauren Scott, AuthorIn Nominations & Awards, Poetry90 Comments

Dear Family and Friends,

What a surprise I discovered last night to find an email from Dagmara at Spillwords Press informing 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/

A soft reminder, I was voted Author of the Month for May 2023 where I shared that exciting news here: https://baydreamerwrites.com/2023/06/01/spillwords-press-author-of-the-month-for-may/

I also had the pleasure and privilege of doing an interview with Dagmara, which I shared in the post below:

SPILLWORDS INTERVIEW IS LIVE TODAY!

A Big Thank You to Dagmara K. and her team for recognizing my work and for this wonderful nomination!!!!

** Please remember that you’ll need to log into Spillwords to vote, and voting is happening now and will end on Wednesday, January 31st!

Good luck to all the amazing authors!

Thanks so much for your kind support! ❤️🙏🏻

Photo credit for flowers goes to me.
Spillwords logos from Spillwords Press.

A collection of poems about nature,
love, and the mysteries of life.
Click on the image to purchase your copy.
Thank you! 💚

“Sweet, sweet poetry to my ears” from Brian! A Big Thanks from Kym and I again!

On January 9, 2024January 9, 2024 By Lauren Scott, AuthorIn Poetry70 Comments

I am honored to be featured on Brian’s site, writingfromtheheartwithbrian, in the best company of Kym Gordon Moore who authored We are Poetry: Lessons I Didn’t Learn in a Textbook. Kym is a wonderful writer who always has you pondering the deeper meaning of life. If you haven’t met her yet, please take the time to visit her site: frombehindthepen. You’ll be glad you did!

In Brian’s post, he shares his vulnerability while writing about his early tumultuous relationship with poetry. His humor is what I absolutely love about his blog posts. I know he’ll always make me smile – he simply has that gift. Here’s a brilliant example of how he expresses his feelings about poetry, “I would see the poetic beauty of some of my favorite songs, but poetry and I kept our distance. We were like two shy seventh graders at a school dance. I didn’t come near poetry, and poetry didn’t come near me. We kept our eyes on each other, but didn’t dare talk or ask each other to dance.”

And then he read Kym’s book and mine, and his feelings about poetry shifted…

“But, if it’s possible to turn a large team of sled dogs in the Yukon wilderness like old Sam McGee, before his unfortunate demise, then I think there might be hope for me yet. In fact, I have two poetry books I can’t recommend strongly enough: fellow bloggers Kym Gordon Moore’s We Are Poetry: Lessons I Didn’t Learn in a Textbook and Lauren Scott’s Ever So Gently.

A little of what Brian says about Kym’s writing;

Kym reminded me why I love writing and why poetry matters. “We write because we have a story to tell and emotions to express. We are touched and moved in unexplained ways and want to connect with others who experience the same bottled up emotions as we do.”

Kym’s essays remind me that poetry is a personal thing. It’s meant to be taken in and no one can tell us how to feel. We feel what we feel. I read her poem “Like An Eagle I Soar” and felt myself soaring too:

“my strength is renewed, with wings as an eagle
graceful, strong, and courageous I take flight
to heights I never imagined were possible”

And a little about mine:

I was lucky on two fronts, first to come across Kym’s book and then to find Lauren’s and to race through her book, captivated by her use of imagery and the scenes that she lays out for the reader. I especially found her use of language pulled me deeper into the writing and the nature around us. In her poem “I Wonder” she playfully asks if pine needles “wiggle in delight until they float to the earth.”

I don’t know about other readers, but I read that line and I was hooked. She had my undivided attention. My very adult worries and responsibilities were far from my mind. I was a little kid again looking up at the leaves in the trees…I had to read the next line and the next and the next. She continues:

“I know I would cheerfully slip on my dancing shoes
if the sky above me suddenly exploded in vivid oranges
as though hope itself pushed through all the debris
that I’ve allowed to clutter my mind.“

I don’t know about you, but I can totally relate to Brian’s thoughts. So, to read more and find out exactly what his experiences have been with the written verse, please click on the link below.

And to those who have read our books and shared your reviews, we are grateful. But I’m sure Kym would agree that learning about others discovering little nuggets of our writing that resonate or that they can call their own, well, this knowledge is the truest reward. 💖

Sweet, sweet poetry to my ears

Thanks so much for stopping by! ❤️❤️❤️

Just click on the image to purchase your copy,
and if you enjoyed this collection,
please consider writing a review,
a hug for indie authors. 💚

The Stars Align…

On October 25, 2023October 26, 2023 By Lauren Scott, AuthorIn Book Promotions, Book Reviews, Poetry68 Comments

While I was away from blogging, three more 5-star reviews gently flowed in for my book, Ever So Gently. These beautiful reviews added light to the initial reason for my break. And the true reward is learning how my poems resonate with others.
So for me, the stars align. ⭐️
Thank you again to Colleen, Robbie, and Miriam. I appreciate you all! ❤️🙏🏻

Another tidbit to share is that my son was recently visiting Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado, relaxing by Bear Lake at 9,500 feet elevation after a good hike while reading my book. You may remember that he painted the cover for me on canvas and also helped in the tedious formatting process. But he hadn’t read the poems. And my family is honest, so if there’s something they don’t like, they’ll tell me without hesitation (lovingly, of course). 🙂
Well, he absolutely loved the nature poems, and is currently reading the rest of the book. Fingers crossed, he feels the same way about part 2 and 3. Anyway, I love this photo he sent me and am grateful that my 28-year-old son is taking the time to read ‘his mom’s’ book. ❤️

And now for the wonderful reviews…

From Robbie:

Ever So Gently: A collection of poems is a beautiful memoir of the poet’s life and experiences, mellowed by experience and understanding, and told through carefully selected words. The poems are a mixture of freestyle and syllabic and share some vivid and delightful imagery that celebrates important moments in the poet’s life.

For me, the emphasis with this collection is on the softening of the poet’s attitude towards, and views, on life gained through experience and living. This message, reflected in the title “Ever So Gently” and the beautiful and peaceful cover, is wonderful and absorbing. Its subtle repetition throughout this book is like slipping into a warm bubble bath. It evokes the same delightful sense of peace and calm. My words must not be misunderstood to mean that none of the poems demonstrate moments of anguish and angst, as that is not the case. Those moments, that are so catastrophic and devastating to the poet at the time of occurrence are there, but their harshness is lessened through acceptance and understanding gained over the passage of time.

A few verses that I particularly enjoyed:

“A lone sailboat glides by
pausing for the unfolding.
With hair the color of an egret,
an older man leans against a stump.”
From The Sun Knows

“raindrops vacillate
layers hold their own secrets
delicate delight”
From The Peach Rose

“Each purl stitch was interwoven with love
from her gentle touch.
She, the teacher, me, the student,
as our bodies sank into the sofa
checkered in a 70’s palette.
From The Old Afghan

The two poems that I related to the most were The Mess and Young Campers, both about the poets children. This book is a celebration of life, the good and the less good.

From Colleen:

“Ever So Gently” asks us to accompany the author on a profound journey into the human condition seen through her own experiences. Scott has a way of making the mundane things in life a positive poetic event. That upbeat theme lasts throughout the book.

She split the book into three sections: The Wisdom of Nature; The Noise, the Laughter, the Chaos, the Loved Ones; and Lost in Thought. The author explores nature and how she relates to those quiet times when nature calls her name. The next section deals with the love in her life. The last section deals with the author’s deeper nature as she explores her feelings in greater detail.

I was surprised to see an excellent collection of haiku and other forms of syllabic poetry in the book. It was easy to connect with the variety of poems and themes. I enjoyed all of them!

I had two favorite poems. One was called “The Sign” and the other, “Ever So Gently.” Both poems are contemplative in nature, but filled with hope for the good things in life to enrich our lives.

From Miriam:

Ever So Gently: A Collection of Poems by Lauren Scott is a cozy and delightful read. I love the pastel color scheme of the cover. It conveys a soft feeling like the fluffy feathers caressing my skin. Her son Michael painted the cover on canvas. The title and the cover join in a beautiful harmony.

Even though this was an autumn evening, I snuggled in front of my fireplace, let the flames warm my face, and let Scott’s words warm my heart. By looking at the content, I knew gems were waiting to be found. This collection is divided into three parts. The first part touches on nature, the second part on relationships and loved ones, and the third part on thoughts in life.

Scott painted nature with her soft strokes. “Cottony clouds drift by. We want to move into them, feel their softness enfold us.” “Tiny threads of peace weave into the marrow of our souls mending any fretting that stirred.” “I wonder if pine needles wiggle in delight until they float to the earth…” The vivid imagery invited my presence in her natural world with the hummingbird, the sunflower, the peach rose, the lantana, the rocks, and the shiny shells.

Scott shared her joyous moments of meeting her husband and their newfound love. “Life has blossomed into delight and wonder in every part of its glowing greatness.” She missed her son and daughter, who were grown and gone. She would leave her son’s room messy to remind her of his presence. The days when the children were little were greatly missed. She reminisced about the younger days when her parents moved from place to place and she missed old friends. The old Afghan reminded her of the memory and wisdom of her mom. One Sunday afternoon, she had the last conversation with her dad. “His voice offers no response, silent for eternity, his body, a shell.” Scott’s memorable moments reminded me of my own with my husband, my daughter, and my parents.

The poem “Things I Know, Believe and Imagine” posted a valuable question. “I believe Love should remain the center of all humankind, but since hate continues to linger on the street, here’s a question to ponder… what should we do differently?” A Two-Wheel Getaway told a cheerful story of meeting biking strangers who became instant friends. The star poem Ever So Gently conveyed the message of hope.

“Its [star’s] glow will grow ever so gently
Into a bright beacon of hope
Rising with the golden sun
Bringing clarity to our vision.”

Thank you for visiting today, and I hope these touching reviews entice you into reading my collection.

To purchase your copy, simply click on the image above
or on this link: https://tinyurl.com/3ds4839u

Wishing you a wonderful Wednesday! 💙🩵💚

Finding peace…

On October 18, 2023October 18, 2023 By Lauren Scott, AuthorIn Discussion, Poetry116 Comments

Dear Friends,

I hope you’re doing well. Our family has been spending as much time as possible with my father-in-law who is nearing the end of his life. He is on hospice, living in a lovely facility with the best care. It has been difficult to witness his body failing, but the silver lining is that spending more time with him has been a gift – these moments have given us room to prepare for the inevitable. When he is lucid on occasion, the gift is even greater.

Writing poetry during my break has been soothing. This surreal experience has been emotional for all of us, but if it inspires me to write, my husband feels it’s a beautiful thing. I was motivated to try a Haibun for the first time after reading D.L. Finn’s gorgeous poetry book, Deep in the Forest Where Poetry Blooms. I loved her collection and will share a review and a couple others in the next few weeks.

This piece may not qualify as a Haibun, but it’s a beginning…

The Last Days

The outdoor temperature feels like a summer day in August though ghosts and goblins lurk around the bend. The orange ball shines brilliantly lighting up the clear blue sky. But inside his room, death awaits in the corners – a dreary atmosphere until we turn on lights to uplift our spirits. Classical music drifts out the windows, swirling around the trees and gardens still bursting with reds and oranges. Photos of family and friends, and ball caps from favorite sports teams embellish the bare white walls.

He lies in bed each day, body frail. A vision we hope will fade over time. A vision contrasting to the man who hiked mountains. The small clock ticking on the bedside table and the calendar hanging on the wall irrelevant. His words, an untranslatable language. His appetite, diminished, but it’s time for breakfast, so we pull the lids from each tub. He slightly opens his mouth like a mama bird feeds her chick, and we gently hold the spoon so he can take in tiny bites of pureed eggs and oatmeal. The tubs still look full, but so is his stomach. Sleep calls him. His chest slowly moves up and down with soft breaths. We stretch out this moment, then we lay a kiss on his forehead, tell him that we love him and that we’ll see him later. We steal one more glance at Dad, then we slowly walk out the door with tears struggling for freedom.

a routine until
he slowly draws his last breath
preparing our hearts

**A Haibun is a combination of prose and haiku, and usually includes autobiography, diary, essay, prose poem, short story, or travel journal.