Summer Pleasures

Hey...Happy July!  Summer is a great time to celebrate Poetry Friday. My summer duties are accomplished and I'm relaxing into a summer lull. Behold two summer pleasures:

In March of 2020 I wrote about elderberries, but since then we planted some bushes in our yard. This is their third year and the bushes are heavy with berries. We are very excited because it looks like we will have enough for elderberry jelly. Take a look:

Burgeoning elderberries

Here's my poem about elderberry jelly. (Reminder, elderberries must be cooked.)

Elderberry Jelly

Pick some plumpish elderberries

Deeply purple, almost black

Cook them in a jelly pot

Make a jellied berry snack

Squeeze the berry juice out slowly

Bubble liquid 'til it's thick

Pour the jellied juice in jars

Pop the top on quick

Taste the deep rich berry flavor

I think no jelly could excel it

Wear your berry purple smile

Who cares if grape outsells it?

© Karen Eastlund

Our hands will be purple when we make jelly... a good rich purple that speaks of earth and health and joy. Isn't that what summer's all about? When deep in berries, laugh and enjoy.  

And then I ran across this little poem that I had written and tucked away, long forgotten. We don't have hammock facilities now, and my grandkids are mostly grown, but I love the memory. Here's hoping it brings a smile to you also:

In My Hammock

Hammock like a giant sling
In its cradle siblings swing
Whispers, laughs or loud harangue
In summer's lull it's cool to hang.

- Karen Eastlund, 2017

My hilarious grandkids

Poetry Friday is hosted by Jan Godown Annino today. Find her post and the links to others in the Poetry Friday community HERE.  Jan imagines floating like a manatee for maximum relaxation and renewal.

Thanks for stopping in. I hope you find time and space to dig into nature, swing in a hammock, and just breathe and float. 

Poetry Friday

I haven't posted for a while as the fall and early winter were crazy for me, but this week I came across this poem and loved it so much, I had to share. Enjoy!

Snow in the Suburbs 

by Thomas Hardy

Every branch big with it
Bent every twig with it

Every fork like a white web-foot;

Every street and pavement mute:

Some flakes have lost their way, and grope back upward, when

Meeting those meandering down they turn and descend again.

The palings are glued together like a wall,

And there is no waft of wind with the fleecy fall.

A sparrow enters the tree,

Whereon immediately

A snow-hump thrice his own slight size

Descends on him and showers his head and eyes,

And overturns him,

And near inurns him,

And lights on a nether twig, when its brush

Starts off a volley of other lodging lumps with a rush.

The steps are a blanched slope,

Up which, with feeble hope,

A black cat comes, wide-eyed and thin,

And we take him in.

Happy Friday, and happy Valentine's Day. May your day be full of heartwarming words and perhaps a few chocolates!  Thanks to the amazing Linda Baie for hosting today.  You can find her post and links to the rest of the Poetry Friday gang HERE. 

A long-eared frustration...

 Rabbits and gardens. You know how it is. So I wrote a limerick...

Call Me McGregor

The rabbits have hijacked my garden

If I shoo them, they're loath to comply

Should I shout, clap or stomp

They just stare, nonchalant

There'll be young ones, of course. Heave a sigh.

© Karen Eastlund

Yes, it is Poetry Friday.  Thanks to Denise Krebs for hosting. You can find her post, in which she shares a most interesting poetry form, at https://mrsdkrebs.edublogs.org/     Others in the Poetry Friday community will be linked there also.  You are cordially invited!

Celebrating Picture Perfect Poetry

 Greetings everyone! It is Poetry Friday and I have some poems to share.

Today I'm sharing my delight with Carol Labuzzetta's anthology: Picture Perfect Poetry.  I have three poems in this beautiful book, and I'm proud to share two of them today.  Carol's anthology is such a beauty! It is an anthology of Ekphrastic Nature Poetry for Students. (Ekphrastic refers to writing that describes a visual art, in this case nature photography.) So, this is a thanks to Carol for including my poems, and a sharing of both poems and photographs.

Autumn's Hold

Pumpkins squat and bright and round
Gathered now in autumn's hold
Your droll expressions so renowned
Pumpkins squat and bright and round.
What lessons in this fall playground?
Leave a seed! Shine your light! Be BOLD!
Pumpkins squat and bright and round
Gathered now in autumn's hold.

© Karen Eastlund

A note about this one:  I just now had the idea to BOLD the bold!  Also, this is a form called triolet: the first line is repeated three times.  I love that Carol made the entire page orange for this one.

The next poem was inspired not only by the sunset, but by a prompt from an online workshop I took with Georgia Heard. She suggested we write a poem beginning with "Things to do if you are a ..."

Things to Do if You are a Sunset

Blush
Sneak in
Put on neon
Delight in feathered flight
Hopscotch from cloud to cloud
Inspect your reflection on water
Flash on last surprise
Dazzle
Fade

© Karen Eastlund

Thanks ever so much for reading and thanks to Patricia Franz for hosting today. Be sure to check in on her blog to read a wonderful poem about planting sugar pines in a national forest. Also, she has a great quote about being part of something larger. Poetry Friday is that kind of gathering, and you can be part of it also.  Find Patricia and learn more HERE.  

National Poetry Month: Two Elfchens

 

Hello Everyone!  National Poetry Month is nearing its end, and I've written two little poems that I'm happy to share today. Many of my poems this month have been elfchens, a form I have come to appreciate for its challenge of so few words.

This first poem came into being as a storm front came through, and I was fascinated by the clouds. They were low and ominous and deep gray, and they scudded past at a good clip.  At the same time, I was reading a book about a wildlife preserve in Africa. So... maybe I pushed the envelope here with the metaphor?  Anyway...  tell me what you think. (Older photo from a trip to MN.)

Storm

Glowering

Gray clouds

Heavy as rhinos

Stampede across the horizon.

Thunder!

The second poem comes from the view out my front window. Spring is at its height here, and I can tell because my eyes are itchy. It happens when the lilacs bloom. Bummer! I love their sweet scent.

Twirling, Twirling

Blushing

seeds adorn

maple's graceful arms.

On cue, breeze whispers: 

Waltz?

Hey, have you seen this???  Soon I'll be sharing some of my poems from Carol Labuzzetta's anthology, Picture Perfect Poetry. I'm so pleased with this beautiful gathering of photography and poetry.  I hope you will pick up a copy!

Poetry Friday is hosted today by Ruth, all the way from Uganda!  She has written a beautiful poem about her dreams of Haiti, where she once lived.  Find her blog and links to others HERE.

Big Birds!

 Hello all Friday Poetry Friends and visitors. I'm throwing together a post today, last minute. Why not?!!

I've been trying to write daily as per the Stafford Challenge. I watched Kim Stafford's presentation, but I haven't followed too closely beyond that. Nonetheless, I'm writing more, and that is a good thing. 

So... I watch the eagle nest which is streamed from Duke Farms, near me. Today there's snow in the nest, the wind is up, and the parent eagle is snuggling dried grass around the edge of the incubation area. One day, not long ago, I caught the sight of the nest with two beautiful eggs, but no parent. It took my breath away! Then a happy resolution. So I wrote this little poem:

Two bare eggs in a cold nest

Enters a flourish of feathers

Gentle turning of an egg

Two eggs snuggled

I smile 

-Karen Eastlund, draft

Another day, on my walk along the river, I saw a blue heron in a tree. I'm still struggling to express my impression of that heron, but in my various attempts I wrote this limerick. Call it a draft... it's a draft!

Heron

Hunched in the cold on a limb

From his crown to his toes he looks grim

But one jab from his beak

And your chances are weak

When he stalks he can feast at his whim.

- Karen Eastlund, draft

That's it for me today. Find the whole gang at Margaret Simon's Reflections on the Teche

Don't miss her co-mingling of joy and grief in two lovely poems. Thanks for hosting today, Margaret!

Merry Christmas 2023

 In the middle of wrapping presents and listening to good music, I realized it was time to wish you all a deeply peaceful and joyful Christmas. So... welcome!

The big tree near our front door had to be taken out this year. It was sad to see it go, but a small one now stands in its place. Time will fill it in. Sometimes the best gifts come in small packages, and luckily the size of the package does not limit the amount of hope it carries. Hope soars. Hope radiates at Christmas.

And do you see the star in front of the bush?  That star used to top our big tree.  I decided it could shine its light where it is, hung on a small metal post. Our new tree isn't ready for it yet, but the star still glows. "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it."

We won't put up a tree this year, but I'm decorating the house with some of my favorite ornaments.  Love is at the heart of Christmas, tree or no tree. 

For the past several years, the telling of the 1914 truce titled All is Calm on PBS, sung by an extraordinary men's choir, has been one of my Christmas highlights.  Watch for it! I recommend it to you wholeheartedly.  

My wish for all of you is in the poem below, with my thanks to Linda Mitchell for creating the perfect star for the top of my poet-tree.  

This

time of year

presents a mystery

That out of darkness

comes a ray of light...A

time to dream, to gather family

To tell the holy tale of that first night

To hug a child and sing to heart's delight

To feast and laugh and bask in family lore

May all these yuletide blessings find your door.

@Karen Eastlund

2021

It is Poetry Friday, and you can find all the Poetry Friday gang at Jone's... click HERE.  

Thanks so much for hosting, Jone!  

Constructive comments welcome! 

Poem written for David Wiesner's Tuesday

 Hello and welcome to Poetry Friday, where children's poets, teachers, and librarians gather to have some poetic fun. Today's gathering is hosted by Anastasia Suen, who shares a lovely poem about first snow. Find her and the rest of the group HERE.  

Recently I decided to use Tuesday by David Wiesner as my prompt.  I was culling through my collection of children's books when reminded of a certain young student, doubled up with laughter, over this book. It is a gem.  

I admit to some pride in this artist because David Wiesner graduated from Bridgewater Raritan High School... our own local high school. Wiesner bloomed on my radar when I was working as a children's librarian in Raritan, when I learned that he won three Caldecott Awards:  Tuesday in 1992, The Three Pigs in 2002, and Flotsam in 2007. Amazing!

Tuesday tells a story in pictures, a tale of considerable mystery and mirth. It is a great conversation starter for you and your children or students, and indeed it was a good prompt for me.

Eerily, eerily

Out of the marshlands

Frogs rise on lily pads

Lift to the sky

Warily, warily,

People look up to see

Frogs flying everywhere

No one knows why

Finally, Finally

On goes the mystery

Snackers and canines and

Cops on the beat

Rescuers mutter and

Lily pads litter and

Something suggests 

There may be a repeat

        © Karen Eastlund

Find Tuesday on Amazon to see several video reviews to further whet your appetite.  Even though published in 1992, it is still available. Highly recommended, this book deserves a place on your bookshelf.

Happy December, everyone!

Almost Bewitched

 It's almost Halloween, and the cool nights and the bright leaves and the pumpkins are all gathering.  I saw photos of witches on paddleboards, which was amusing but beyond my current abilities. Haha. I ordered a new witchy hat in red, but it's big for me. I look like I'm hiding under a red mushroom. Maybe I'll find another recipient.  

Anyway, I have a new poem. I was inspired to write this by a recent experience. 

Acrobats

In soft evening light

Lake lapping

Reflecting

I find a performance

Just at the shore

Acrobats in black

Doing stunts for their supper

I see them flutter

Pirouette

Swoop

Watching the troupe

I see flying near-misses

But look: This one kisses

Her lake-mirrored image!

It's a natural act

A banquet on the wing

I see flutters and swoops

Daring dives and braided loops

It's a traveling circus!

In soft evening light

Acrobats flutter and feast

Lake mirrors their moves

And I am a sister

Reflecting.

© Karen Eastlund 2023

Have a fun Halloween, everyone!  And don't forget to join the gang for Poetry Friday. This week is hosted by Carol Labuzzetta... she's sharing more bat goodness!  Find it HERE.

Jack-o-Lanterns

I love to carve a pumpkin, no matter how the face turns out. The gooey pumpkin innards and the smell of singed pumpkin take me back to early days. I always have candle stubs to light inside and watch the flickering light. It's much spookier that way, but of course I have to be careful.  I suspect it's more fun for me than for the children who come to my door, but that's fine. It amuses me each year.

FACES!

Jack-o-lanterns' homemade faces

Teasing, grinning

Gleaming

Bright --

See them peek from

Sills and

Gates --

Will they spook us

On that

Night?

©  Karen Eastlund

Thanks to J. Patrick Lewis for this poetic form, called a zeno.  The syllable count is 8,4,2,1,4,2,1,4,2,1.

If you start practicing now, you can learn THIS SONG by Halloween.

 It's Poetry Friday!  Find the whole gang and their poetry offerings at Reading to the Core. Thanks to Catherine Flynn for hosting today and writing about the human urge to leave our mark.

The Moon, The Moon... How we love the Moon!

Evenings darken earlier now, and when I go out I notice the moon, right there, shining down on me.  This past week it was a waxing crescent, lightly clouded over and gauzy.  Leaves are beginning to turn, the air is nippy, and the moon looks spooky. Perfect!

Ted Kooser wrote a poem that I like very much, from his collection of poems titled "Winter Mornings: 100 Postcards to Jim Harrison." It begins:

Only a crust of moon is left

to offer the morning,

I can almost feel that crust, rough and dry in my throat. But in spite of that crust sounding like a cold dry leftover, it also sounds intriguing. There's something about the tiny crescent that fascinates and even amuses. Not much to offer the morning, perhaps, but much to offer the imagination.

Speaking of imagination, I'm dedicating some space to a new book by Irene Latham titled The Museum on the Moon: Curious Objects on the Lunar Surface. Myriam Wares illustrated it with just the right tones for the calm bright surfaces of the moon, and Irene wrote poems for each artifact that has been left there. I really like the premise for this book: curious objects that have been left on the moon. What a fascinating topic!

Irene's poems are delightful. I have several favorites, but I'd like to share a bit of this one because in just a few words it made me think about something I had not considered:

Forever Footprints

Human tracks tattoo

Moon's rutted face --

With no wind, no rain

There's no way to erase...

I invite you to find Irene's book and share it. It will be perfect for a classroom or that young person who is enthralled with space.  And don't miss the final pages, which are full of astronauts and timelines and many good notes about the moon and its visitors.  Congratulations, Irene! Stellar!!!

 

And now... 

How about a fun Moon craft?  I did this with kids ages 4 to 12, and they all loved it.  Mix paint with flour until it looks like paste, brush a thick layer on a paper circle and stamp it with various sized circles. After a day for drying: Tada!!! A moon with craters.  So fun!

https://www.cindyderosier.com/2014/07/the-cursive-project-moon.html

I wrote a moon poem some years ago, and decided to rework it for today's blog.  Today is a full moon, by the way... the Harvest Moon!  I hope the clouds give me a chance to see it.

Sister Moon

Come close

Sister Moon

Show me your 

Glowing face

Whisper to me 

Of your mystery

Of beauty, strength, 

And grace

What do you keep

In your thin crescent bowl?

When you melt away

Where do you hide?

What makes you blush

Bright as a cardinal?

What enchantment

Charms the tides?

We're sisters, dear Moon

We share a wealth

Of sunshine 

From above

I'm glad for your glow, 

Little Sister Moon,

And I send you

All my love.

© Karen Eastlund, 2023

It is Poetry Friday, and you are invited to join the gang at 

Jama Rattigan's where she shares some

hilarious poetry.  Click HERE to join the fun.

 

Gerard Manley Hopkins

The summer is nearing its end and I am just beginning to harvest tomatoes. The deer ate all the early ones, but we finally had a lovely one with our dinner last night. And speaking of deer, they were nibbling on some new elderberry bushes again, so I got some peppermint spray and headed out to the yard when there, caught in the act, were two fauns. Still sporting their spots but getting leggy, they ran when we clapped.  Such a heart tug because they are beautiful and graceful, but so destructive.

Two weeks ago was the birthday of Gerard Manley Hopkins.  I just discovered Moonrise, shared below. What a treasure!  

You can find more about Hopkins' life HERE.  and more of his poetry HERE.  

Image by gmccrea from Pixabay

Moonrise

I awoke in the Midsummer not to call night, in the white and the walk of the morning:
The moon, dwindled and thinned to the fringe of a finger-nail held to the candle,
Or paring of paradisaïcal fruit, lovely in waning but lustreless,
Stepped from the stool, drew back from the barrow, of dark Maenefa the mountain;
A cusp still clasped him, a fluke yet fanged him, entangled him, not quit utterly.
This was the prized, the desirable sight, unsought, presented so easily,
Parted me leaf and leaf, divided me, eyelid and eyelid of slumber.

Hopkins always surprises and delights me with his word choices... his "fringe of a finger-nail" and "paring of fruit" in this poem, and elsewhere his "dappled things"  and "shook foil."  

I hope you will find some favorites.

Thanks to Tabatha Yeatts at The Opposite of Indifference for hosting the Poetry Friday roundup today. Believe me when I say that you will not want to miss her hilarious poem.  What a hoot!!! 

Good summer wishes to you all.

A Time of Blooms

 Happy Friday. It has been a crazy busy time here, and I've missed several Fridays. Alas!  I must make amends. And so, just to get my foot back in the door, I am posting some blooms from my garden, and some poetry to go with them.  Enjoy.

The poem I've chosen for this iris speaks to me of the May garden, which blooms gloriously and then is gone.  I wait all year for this...

Snow Geese

by Mary Oliver

Oh, to love what is lovely, and will not last!

What a task

to ask

of anything, or anyone,

yet it is ours,

and not by the century or the year, but by the hours.

Read the rest of Snow Geese HERE.

The peonies too, unfold their tight fists now with such elegance. Another of Mary Oliver's poems reminds me of this peony, her poem titled Swan, which speaks of "a perfect commotion of silk and linen."  You can read it HERE.

The peonies seem to demand some Japanese poetry... three haikus:

a rice bowl
filled to the brim
one peony
~ Buson

Dear, dear,

What a fat, happy face it has,

This peony!

– Issa

a bee

staggers out

of the peony

~Basho

My garden is doing well so far. I have hopes of peas soon, and salad turnips. More poems in the offing.

Poetry Friday is hosted this week by Patricia Franz at Reverie.  Don't miss her celebration of 40 years of marriage which includes a Doobie Brothers poem. Thanks, Patricia!

In Celebration of the Pencil

 There's something about writing with a pencil. When I find the perfect one... the "right" one... my hand fairly flies across the page. The lead should be soft enough to make a satisfying mark, and the ease of erasure removes the anxiety of putting words on the page. A pencil mark is easy to change, and the pencil feels good in my hand. Confident. Easy. Ready to go.

Some time back I wrote this pencil poem, and I don't think I've shared it here, so here goes:

Hug it!

Have you hugged your pencil?

It's a handy utensil

It loves to make 

A good point

It doodles, erases

It even makes faces!

And it wiggles your words

Into print.

© Karen Eastlund

Thanks for joining me today, and a huge thanks to Ruth who is hosting today from Uganda!  Click HERE to find her post and links to the rest of the gang in the Poetry Friday community.

Special Alert: 

Check back here tomorrow for my penultimate line to the 

2023 Progressive Poem.