I’m thrilled to announce that my poem “Baseballs” is published today on Gobblers by Masticadores. A huge thank you to Editor, Manuela Timofte, for sharing my work on her highly regarded literary site.
Baseballs
One day the sun guides you with its glorious rays, the world spins in its usual manner, then out of thin air, in the blink of an eye, the cliché is yours, under a sullen sky, plans become fractured. Life is altered in a skipped heartbeat that was slow to join the rhythm of the others. My emotions feel awkward. They seem wilder, body feels heavy as though pewter crowds my veins…
To read the full poem, please visit Gobblers by clicking on the link below, and if you’re not already subscribed, please follow Manuela’s wonderful site for a rich poetry experience.
Thanks so much for visiting, and have a wonderful week ahead! ❤️
As I mentioned in my last post, I’m focusing on my book to honor Copper, our senior puppy who received angel wings in March, while also trying to visit you. This has been my mindset for the week, but I’m pulling my hair out because of glitches. Third time’s a charm, they say, and Life is NOT about throwing in the towel!
Anyway, one of the posts I had the pleasure of visiting was Vicki’s, and it truly intrigued me. Please pop over to her lovely sight for inspiration and enlightenment: 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 following poem and the concept of writing our own version:
Where I’m From By George Ella Lyon
I am from clothespins, from Clorox and carbon-tetrachloride. I am from the dirt under the back porch. (Black, glistening it tasted like beets.) I am from the forsythia bush, the Dutch elm whose long gone limbs I remember as if they were my own. I am from fudge and eyeglasses, from Imogene and Alafair. I’m from the know-it -alls and the pass -it -ons, from perk up and pipe down. I’m from He restoreth my soul with cottonball lamb and ten verses I can say myself. I’m from Artemus and Billie’s Branch, fried corn and strong coffee. From the finger my grandfather lost to the auger the eye my father shut to keep his sight. Under my bed was a dress box spilling old pictures. a sift of lost faces to drift beneath my dreams. I am from those moments — snapped before I budded — leaf-fall from the family tree
To read more information and for helpful tools in writing your poem, please visit Vicki and Lori’s wonderful posts. And now, I offer you my version. I didn’t use Lori’s template, but I ran with the concept. Thoughts appeared one after the other, so mine is a bit lengthy, but I don’t feel like cutting anything out just yet. Subtle rhymes also slid their way in, and I’m unsure if they were supposed to. Nonetheless…
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.
Hubby and I are the proud landlords of a couple of feathered friends. They both worked hard to build a nest for their babies and chose our hanging ladder for the base. Needless to say, we are not moving the ladder until they relocate! Friday morning, I was lucky to get some photos while I quietly stepped outside. When I walked a little farther, they fled, landing on the power line, and watching me like a hawk, I’m sure.
aware while they work a safe home of leaves and twigs the honor is ours
That evening, we tried a new restaurant. A little wine bar in downtown that also serves Sonoran food. With an elegant, yet cozy ambience, the environment was inviting, and the food, delicious! We tried one of their burritos, ate half, so enjoyed two meals out of them. But first, we savored wine and good conversation before diving into dinner. A myriad of music genres in the background played a role in this wonderful dining experience. As we strolled back to our car, we passed a garden of stunning roses. I couldn’t help but stop to tap away on my cellfor some pics.
springtime bling uplifts abounding with vibrancy rose beauty for you
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I hope you enjoyed my nature exhibit and poems. 🙂 Now, onto the books! 📚
Yesterday, Japan joined the US and made Tranquility: An Anthology of Haiku a #1 Amazon Bestseller, too, and in Gabriela’s post today, she features two of my haiku…
feel the quietness on the meandering trail worries drift to earth
Please visit her post to read my other poem and for more information about this wonderful book. Congrats again to Editor, Gabriela Marie Milton, and to the other fabulous contributors! I’m honored to be a part of this beautiful anthology!And don’t forget to order your copy!
Lastly, my presence in the next week or two may be spotty as I’m drilling down on bringing my ‘Copper’ book to print. However, I’ve run into another glitch (gotta love those glitches that challenge us). But I’m persevering because this book means a lot to me. Of course, all books hold special meanings for their authors. 😁 Anyway, thank you from the bottom of my heart for visiting my corner of blogland. I hope you’ve enjoyed your time here enough to return. And I wish you peace, happiness, and lots of love! ❤️
One day the sun guides you with its glorious rays, the world spins in its usual manner, then out of thin air, in the blink of an eye, the cliché is yours, under a sullen sky, plans become fractured. Life is altered in a skipped heartbeat that was slow to join the rhythm of the others. My emotions feel awkward. They seem wilder, body feels heavy as though pewter crowds my veins, but I don’t walk in their shoes. Meeting challenges head-on distracts heart and mind, but in the hush of turmoil, I imagine their emotions will morph into wild too. Until then, questions soar like baseballs out of a batting machine. Some answers remain elusive. Others may be clear as morning dew but tricky to swallow – digesting turns into a test of the human spirit. What comes next? Only uncertainty is for certain.
“Cora’s Quest is a delightful story for young children with a clear message of thinking through difficult situations, remembering what your parents have taught you, and being courageous...”
Please visit Robbie’s blog to read the full review, and for another great book recommendation.You can also learn more about her fabulous poetry, photography, books, and incredible baking creations. Her latest book, Burning Butterflies, is available now on Amazon:
Thanks again, Robbie! I’m happy dancing! ❤️🙏 And thank you, dear friends, for stopping by on your way to Robbie’s blog! Have a terrific day! 💖
My bicycle had met its fate a while ago, so we bought a new cruiser for me. Cycling is better for my back, and in addition to using the stationary bike in the house, we now have an outdoor option. We went riding Saturday and Sunday morning in cool, perfect temps beneath cheerful sunshine. Wind in our face felt so freeing! The same feeling my husband gets when riding his motorcycles. Heading to the kids’ old elementary and high school stomping grounds was our plan. Oh, the memories! I hope you enjoy the ride, and of course, the poem I had fun writing. Cheers to riding and writing!
Two wheels carry us Wind in our face Pedals in rotation A comfortable pace
Freedom in our bones Rolling through veins Blue sky umbrella Easy on the reins
Two campuses we sought Nostalgia in our minds Posters for council Blooms of all kinds
Well, hi, Mr. Bear, Looking massive as ever Don’t mind us as we coast by for pleasure
Cruising through corridors Memories flow Our children’s years learning With smiles aglow
2010, 2015 Fun graduation days Diplomas and celebrations Beneath sun’s rays
Painting of murals With colors so bright Language of art Beauty and delight
Quads work vigorously Uphill we pedal A fun ride behind us The greatest medal!
It doesn’t matter if we’re celebrating the best thing that ever happened, or staring at our heart lying on the floor in millions of tiny pieces. Time moves ahead (seemingly) as if we pushed the fast forward button. Those hands on the analog clock have a mind of their own, turning and turning, making our heads spin, wondering where the hours have gone. Where have the hours gone? How does a decade ago feel like yesterday? Why does my mind tell me I’m forty when my driver’s license tells me I’m wrong? Just yesterday, my daughter and son played with Lego and Barbies. Today they’re adulting, living with bills that show up in the mailbox on a monthly basis. Always prompt. Just yesterday, I took my last photo of our senior pup, not knowing it would be the last photo I would take of him. Right now, a man in his seventies is undergoing bypass surgery. Just yesterday, he and his wife were walking on one of their routine five-mile daily walks. Time is precious. Do we need reminding? We’ve heard it before, but have we ruminated on the concept, held it in the palm of our hand, massaged it, comprehending? This is the question as the conveyor belt of life carries us from here to there, wind in our face. But do we notice what’s in the middle? Because in the middle is what we shouldn’t miss.
We needed the getaway a couple of weeks ago, so I’m sharing some highlights. Luckily, our destination wasn’t too far, and driving the back country roads at this time of year was truly magical with the rolling green hills dotted with black and white dairy cows, not to mention, the umbrella of blue sky and downy clouds.
A curious guy!
The town was small but charming with just the right amount of excellent restaurants and quaint, quirky shops.
Cheers!
The best ever gingerbread latte!
Saturday morning, we walked through the old growth redwood grove, and as you can imagine, it was another enchanting experience.
“Preserve the trees, for they are the finest art.”
Then we were ready for some wine tasting, and the winery we chose gave us the best experience so far – Char Vale Vineyards and Winery. We lucked out with the weather on Friday and Saturday because Ms. Rain held the raindrops until Sunday. Her thoughtfulness allowed us some outdoor exploring on the main two days without messy conditions. Our palates enjoyed the elegant, fruity, and velvety notes, and the delicious adventure lasted about 2 1/2 hours, gracing us with a bright blue sky and cool but comfortable temps. We also had a good chat with the owners, a husband and wife team, who have been in the business for decades. Our knowledge about making wine expanded on this day, but don’t quiz me!
Lastly, we reflected a lot about our beloved Copper.
He enjoyed the season of autumn.
April 3rd marked one month since his passing, and one of my photos just happened to prompt a poem. It’s still in draft mode, but I’m sharing anyway…
March to March
Reminiscent of Elton’s circle of life, from March to March he arrived with youthful spirit and left with angel wings – our family for thirteen years, now glowing memories in the spaces and around each corner. We celebrate his life – those soul-searching eyes that connected to us – we were links in a golden chain, now one link is missing, our golden boy – tears still follow like a shadow – the shadow he was, but smiles gently find their place because he is in our hearts, because joy needs room to simmer.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thank you for popping in, and I hope you enjoyed the photos and poem. Have a wonderful week ahead. ❤️
Baydreamer Writes ~ Lauren Scott, Author 