Poetry Friday - A Joy in My Hands!

   

created by Linda Mitchell

It's Poetry Friday, and Michelle Kogan, artiste extraordinaire, is hosting HERE on her blog, More Art 4 All.  There, among all the other poets, Michelle has created a May Birthday celebration of other poets who have their birthdays this month! It's Michelle's birthday in May, too! It's a delight to read all the nature poems! Thanks for hosting us, Michelle!

     Every day for a while, I've read a few poems, savored them and the photos, read again, and felt as if I'd taken a walk. I am a walker in my neighborhood and at a nearby lake with all kinds of wonders to see and experience. A daily mantra, no matter the weather, is #getoutside. This is a post to honor Carol Labuzzetta for her courage to #getinside the minds of poets, gather the flowers of ekphrastic poetry, and publish an anthology. It's for us, and considering what's inside, it's for everyone! 

    Carol has especially made it so accessible for teachers to share about this kind of poetry with their students. She has added about ekphrastic poetry, including the kinds of poetry forms one can use, in an informative section at the back. It's all ready for them, and happily, for us, too! If you need a walk out into nature, take one by reading Picture Perfect Poetry! Thank you for it all, Carol, for your dream come true and for all the work you accomplished!

    I won't pick a favorite. Each poem is a delightful look at parts of the outdoors. Sometimes, I connected completely, and other times I found new ways of seeing. Thanks to the other twenty-four poets whose poems brought me joy! 

       I am thrilled to have two poems included. Both connect to nature, but the one I'm sharing today is not only about being outside, but a memory of my husband and I outside, hiking the trails in the Rockies. We had a small cabin in those woods, stayed there as much as we could, hiked and climbed up and down. Sometimes, we took a tent and stayed in a few favorite places just for a different view. 

Melancholy Air

 

These boots that

laced up the memories

of kinship with mountain trails,

and those who hiked

along with me,

sit idly waiting

for those feet to fill them

one more time.

 

Linda Baie ©

         Wishing everyone a nice Memorial Day weekend, giving our respect to those who gave their lives for our country. My father is one of those who died in World War II. He was a pilot whose plane was shot down in the Leyte Gulf, Philippines. 

Poetry Friday - Edward Hopper

           It's time again for Poetry Friday. Thanks for hosting, Carol Wilcox, a few blocks north of me, at Carol's Corner! Don't miss her post, a wonderful one about verse novels. 

          I am fortunate to have the time to work at the used bookstore where I volunteer. If you already don't know, it's a store that's been running for nearly fifty years, a non-profit 501 (c) 4, first started by a small group of women who thought the community should have a bookstore! One also can become a member, though it's not necessary, and as a member, one receives credits, for the fee per year and for books donated. Thus, I find a lot of books that one could say are 'free'. Recently a book about Edward Hopper was donated and I snapped it up, am enjoying reading about his life, learning about his career from beginning to the end. Its copyright is 1983. I have written a few poems using Hopper's paintings. Each one inspires a story, doesn't it?  Now inspired by the book and one of Hopper's favorites, Here's one of my poems.

          

after Edward Hopper’s Gas


My Uncle Bill walked into the picture,
shutting down the tanks
of his gas station
at the edge of town,
closing at dusk,
homebound for supper.

What only I can see 
is the fireworks stand
at the back,
knocked together wood planks,
red, white and blue bunting
draping the table's front. 
Sometimes I got to help,
my life's favorite paycheck –
sparklers. 

You also cannot know
he retired when the big stations
took over, 
in the big towns,
with the big prices.

That's when everyone
in this small town
had to drive twelve miles,
no longer could say
"fill 'er up",
but had to pump the gas themselves,
while missing my Uncle Bill.

Linda Baie (c) All Right Reserved