Thursday, May 27, 2021

Geraniums and the questions they pose...

 I bought some red geraniums at the nursery, and the depth of color left me gobsmacked. I love deep color. It draws me like bees to a sweet pickle jar. So I had to write about it...

Geranium's green fists

soon flutter prayer flags

drenched in crimson

-- Karen Eastlund

So the question comes... is it a haiku in hiding? If I move the word "fists" to the second line, I'm close to the 5-7-5 configuration for a haiku. That was my original plan.  But then I did a little more investigating and learned haiku do not include metaphors or similes. Well... I liked my metaphor more than I liked the idea of a haiku. I moved "fists" to the first row and that's how it ended up as it is.  Let me know what you think.

That's my little poem for today. I hope it speaks to you.  If you are a poetry fan, please feel free to join the Poetry Friday gang, hosted today at the ever so talented Michelle Kogan's. Don't miss her gorgeous illustrations, will find plenty of poetry to please you there! Thanks for hosting, Michelle, and happy birthday!

Friday, May 21, 2021

Poem Revision

I took Irene Latham's revision class a few weeks ago. It was excellent, just as I suspected it would be.  So... with a her advice in mind, and a poem I wrote in 2014, I went to work.  Here is my revision... I'm still monkeying with it, but I sense progress. 

Image by ykaiavu from Pixabay

Sweet Abyss


Like a bear 

snuffles for honey

I lumber 



honing in













August 2014, revised May '21


Congratulations today to Mary Lee Hahn, an extraordinary educator and poet who inspires us all. My best to you, Mary Lee. Enjoy your retirement! Write more poetry! 

It's Poetry Friday again! The weeks seem to speed by. Find the Poetry Friday gang today at 
Christie Wyman's Wondering & Wandering.  Thanks for hosting, Christie, and thanks for sharing some of Mary Lee's poems. 

Sending good wishes to all, especially teachers and students who will be winding up a year.

Thursday, May 6, 2021


Days are warming, flowers are blooming, birds are singing. The world seems a little sweeter, a little kinder in spring. It's no surprise that spirits rise as the sun's warm rays return, as bees begin to buzz and eggs appear in nests. And yet, for several reasons, this month holds a hair shirt of challenges for me. Perhaps some of the problem lies with the medicine I have to take while lilacs bloom. Anyway... instead of my own words, I've chosen to share some poems that feel right for today. I hope you will find joy and solace in them. In the first one you will notice the word "man" where I wish a more encompassing word had been used, but I did not feel comfortable changing the original. Most of my readers are women... please know that my heart is with you.

Flower in the Crannied Wall

Flower in the crannied wall,
I pluck you out of the crannies;--
I hold you here, root and all, in my hand,
Little flower -- but if I could understand
What you are, root and all, and all in all,
I should know what God and man is.
--Alfred Lord Tennyson

Small Things 

It usually starts taking shape
from one word
reveals itself in one smile
sometimes in the blue glint of eyeglasses
in a trampled daisy
in a splash of light on a path
in quivering carrot leaves
in a bunch of parsley
It comes from laundry hung on a balcony
from hands thrust into dough
It seeps through closed eyelids
as through the prison wall of things of objects
of faces of landscapes
It's when you slice bread
when you pour out some tea
It comes from a broom from a shopping bag
from peeling new potatoes
from a drop of blood from the prick of a needle
when making panties for a child
or sewing a button on a husband's burial shirt
It comes out of toil out of care
out of immense fatigue in the evening
out of a tear wiped away
out of a prayer broken off in mid-word by sleep

It's not from the grand
but from every tiny thing
that it grows enormous
as if Someone was building Eternity
as a swallow its nest
out of clumps of moments
     --Anna Kashenska (Polish, 1920-1986)

I praise Thee while my days go on;
I love Thee while my days go on:
Through dark and dearth, through fire and frost,
With emptied arms and treasure lost,
I thank Thee while my days go on.

--Elizabeth Barrett Browning

And all shall be well and

All manner of thing shall be well.

-- T.S. Eliot

You are invited to read the offerings of the other bloggers in this group by
following this link to Carol Varsalona's blog,  Beyond Literacy Link.  After
you read Carol's page, follow the links posted at the bottom to find others. 
Blessings all!!!