Poetry Friday - Finding Time

 

       It's Poetry Friday, and Linda Mitchell is hosting on her website here! She's sharing some beautiful quotes about children, ones that would be so nice to share widely! Thanks for hosting, Linda!

         I'm looking forward to reading your posts, what you're sharing! It's been a while! 

Hi Everyone, I still feel very busy. Home and family, plus work at the bookstore have claimed my days for a long time. Like many of you, I'm sure, I'm also invested in fighting our government's overreach. That, too, takes more time. I am trying to get back in some kind of groove with writing. I haven't even read very much! 

One thing I haven't stopped is walking out, celebrating all the nature surrounding me as I go. This time, I've been watching the trees. Our weather has been so strange, a warm winter that set records and disappointed skiers and ski resorts, and now, so little rain. I saw it rain last week at the bookstore, but just about a mile south where I live, not a drop! My daughter and family had a hailstorm do big damage to their newly planted garden and tree leaves, but again, nothing in my area. We're in a severe drought, so much of the time I've been closely watching the trees, hoping they would leaf out as usual, and they have. The company that takes care of mine has been out a few times, checking, and deep-root watering. So far, they appear okay.

        Here are a few photos of trees I see while out, both in my own yard and in the neighborhood. I live in a neighborhood filled with trees. Lucky me!

Trees branch,  

seeking light and strength,

Like people.

           Linda Baie © 

Poetry Friday - Something New Discovered

   It's Poetry Friday, and Jan Godown Annino is hosting HERE at Bookseed Studio. She's sharing a poetic basket filled with music, book recommendations, and special calls for poetry! Thanks for hosting, Jan! 

  

            Many of you know that I volunteer at a unique used bookstore. It's a non-profit run entirely by volunteers. I am the volunteer coordinator, and I am in charge of donations with one other person. The store, with the exception of a few new books purchased for one "new" shelf, has three floors of all, used, books. Each week, donations come in, often so many with our small storage available that we must close the donations until the next Friday. On Thursday afternoons, my crew, some older retirees and several teens, go through the books and organize them in various ways for shelving. It's hard work, but also amazing and wonderful to see what arrives in the boxes, mostly gems, but some junk that sadly includes books falling apart and smelly! In all, though, we manage to have hundreds of books in our inventory through the kindness of many.

          I've taken the Poetry Sisters' challenge this end of January. Here's what Tanita wrote last month! 

           "The Poetry Sisters met on Sunday to map out our writing prompts for the year. We have a plan and a prompt for January. Would you like to try this month's challenge? We will be writing a tanku, a poem that begins with a tanka, followed by a haiku written in response. A tanku can be any length, but each verse should be written in response to the one before. You can find an example at Rattle: Poetry. Are you with us? Good! Please share your poem on January 31st in a post and/or on social media with the tag #PoetryPals. We look forward to reading your poems!"

  Don't Call It Work

 

I’m at the bookstore

sorting out book donations,

keep curious eyes

for ephemera discards.

Imagination ignites.

 

Maui Boarding pass.

thank you letter to Emma.

Groceries to buy;

only one makes me smile –

something special for Sam.

Piled in a basket,

the guesses only maybes –

characters appear.

 

                     Linda Baie © 

 

        I've received more marvelous postcards, will thank everyone and share next week! The kindness shared keeps the dark away!

Poetry Friday - Poetry Pals Gather Us

   

       It's Poetry Friday, and Tanita S. Davis is hosting HERE at {fiction! instead of Lies}! It's time for a Poetry Sisters challenge, 

       Here's is the challenge I copied last month from Laura Purdie Salas: 

            If you’d like to write with us in November, here’s our mission: Pluck a line or a theme from Jane Hirshfield’s “Two Versions,” and let that inspire your poem. I don’t find an online version easily available, so I’ll give you the first two lines:

“In the first version I slept by a stream.
All night awake things traveled near.”

Be sure to share your poem on Friday, November 29th, and use #poetrypals if you share it on social.

Stream at Longcarne Farm -
geograph.org.uk - 3958015.jpg

      I wrote about my husband last time, too. November and December bring more memories of him. This year's end bring his birthday, other family celebrations, and the holidays, so full of the traditions and special times we created together. Here is the poem, dear Poetry sisters, from the prompt you gave us.

More of November

 

“In the first version, I slept by a stream.

I dreamed.
And there you were, cuddled close,

Warming me, keeping us safe 

From the world’s dangers.

Then, the second version took over.

My back chilled.

You were swept away, they said

Into a journey all alone, no goodbyes

That time, but this I know: 

Someday, I’ll find the right stream,

and we’ll lie down together, 

Like that first version!

            Linda Baie ©

Poetry Friday - In the Night

  

       It's Poetry Friday, and Karen Edmisten is hosting HERE at The Blog With The Shockingly Clever Title! You'll need to visit so you can see just what she's named it! Thanks for hosting, Karen! 

       We all have those special dates that we remember when they come. It's most often a loved one's birthday, and often they have passed on, but I also note the birthdays of extended family, ones I don't see very much anymore.  

         This coming Wednesday, November 20th, is my husband's birthday. He hasn't been with us for eleven years, but I'm sure you know that I will always remember and keep him close especially on his day! This week, Poem a Day shared a poem that touched me deeply. It is new to me and I want to share it, for all of you, and for Arvie, "my love", a Happy Birthday! 

At the head of the table, probably a holiday
long ago! 

At The Mid Hour of Night 

        by Thomas Moore

1779 – 1852

 

At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly 
To the lone vale we loved, when life shone warm in thine eye;
And I think oft, if spirits can steal from the regions of air, 
To revisit past scenes of delight, thou wilt come to me there,
And tell me our love is remembered, even in the sky. 

Then I sing the wild song ’twas once such pleasure to hear! 
When our voices commingling breathed, like one, on the ear;
And, as Echo far off through the vale my sad orison rolls, 
I think, oh my love! ’tis thy voice from the Kingdom of Souls,
Faintly answering still the notes that once were so dear.

This poem is in the public domain. Published in Poem-a-Day on November 9, 2024, by the Academy of American Poets.

 You can access the entry here which includes the audio, too.

Poetry Friday - How It Works

 

       It's Poetry Friday, and Cathy Mere is hosting HERE on her blog Merely Day by Day! In the poem she shares, we learn some good steps for what is certainly next for us all. I am inspired and grateful to start this special Poetry Friday after Tuesday's election with all of you. Thanks for hosting, Cathy!

       Since Tuesday, and during the days before the election, I watched Vice-President Kamala Harris become a woman whose actions I appreciated so much for my grandchildren, a grandson and two granddaughters, to see. She showed resilience, strength, and oh, so much intelligence in her explanations. She had great responses, and especially when questions felt charged with the goal of catching her out, perhaps in a contradiction from previous words. It looked tough, but she was tougher!   

       I enjoyed learning about Kamala Harris's childhood, and seeing the photos of her as she grew up. And, I began to imagine when babies and toddlers in early childhood begin to have agency. If you've experienced that, you might recognize what I wrote and perhaps have your own examples! After this poem's stance, I have hope that every young one will carry on!

My two granddaughters, journaling on a zoo trip quite a few
years ago.

              How It Works

 

I learn by one to watch Mama’s eyes

to see if I’ve cried enough to solve the problem

of thirst.

My puzzle at two is to assess the room 

to discover a strategy for escaping from the crib.

The problem at three is to wait until both parents are asleep

and won’t reverse my decision to crawl in bed with them.

My flexible brain at four uses my memory of problem-solving

in order to use my abilities to fetch anything I want,

like the cookies high in the cupboard.

At five, anything can happen.

 

Linda Baie ©

Poetry Friday - One Moment

       It's Poetry Friday, and Carol Varsalona is hosting HERE on her blog Beyond Literacy Link with an "Abundance of Autumn"! Thanks for hosting, Carol!

        My daughter and family live west of me, so I am traveling east when I drive home from visiting them. It's often evening, with a grand view of the sunset!

driving and weaving tomorrow

my mind curves into new corners

remembering to look back 

at the weft of yesterday

 

Linda Baie ©

 

Happy Halloween!

a tiny part of the bookstore window

VOTE!

Poetry Friday - Poetry Pals Challenge - "Looking"

    It's Poetry Friday, and Irene Latham is hosting HERE on her blog Live Your Poem.  She's sharing about a new anthology coming soon, a poignant poem about a youthful mistake, and a lovely Artspeak poem, also about youth! Thanks for hosting, Irene!

       Tanita Davis shared this last month: Here is the #PoetryPals challenge for next week, the last of September!

             Poetry Peeps! You’re invited to our challenge for the month of September! Here’s the scoop: We’re wandering through Wallace Stevens’ “13 Different Ways of Looking…” at something. Maybe it’s not 13 ways – maybe it’s only seven. Maybe it’s not a blackbird or anything alive, but something inanimate. Whatever happens, your way of looking will be different than mine, and I’m here for it. Are you in? Good! You have a month to craft your creation and share it on September 27th in a post and/or on social media with the tag #PoetryPals.

             Be sure you find all the #PoetryPals to see what they have seen!   Tanita, Laura,  Mary Lee,  Liz, Sara, Tricia, and Kelly.  Thanks for the prompt!

13 Ways of Looking at Leaves

 

1)   The tiniest hint of green, now seen–

That’s my view of leaves in spring.

 

2)   Sunlight meals leads to unfurling;

trees, with moisture, bring more curling.

 

3)   Each one chooses shapes they need

to bring in sunlight for a leafy feed.

 

4)   Soon, leaves shade for kids in play,

and blankets spread for picnic days.

 

5)   While looking long, green pigment fades.

Leaves start their shift to fall parades.

 

6)   A blast of color signals change;

sleepy leaves must rearrange!

 

7)   Conserving water in colder climes,

so trees release the leaves on time.

 

8)   They swirl and twirl when breezes sigh,

a performance finale of goodbyes.

 

9)   Now they lie at feet below,

bringing the autumn crunch I know.

 

10) Goodbyes from trees already said;

time for raking into flower beds!

 

11) While elders meet their mulching fate,

winter comes; new buds await.

  

12) When springtime bursts, I spy leafy newborns.

The cycle’s recharged, no longer forlorn.

 

13) Again they unfurl, like children grow.

Hungry leaves munch sunshine. Hello! Hello!

 

 Linda Baie ©

Poetry Friday - Things to Remember

  It's Poetry Friday, and Rose Cappelli is hosting HERE on her blog, Imagine The Possibilities. She brings us a place where we'd all love to be, watching for the sun rise over the ocean. It makes me want to be there with her!

        This time in our country's history feels very important. Whatever you think about the politics, it seems right to look deeply in our hearts about who we are, what we really believe. I have a favorite poem by Joy Harjo that speaks to this and I want to share it with you, a gift of introspection.

              Remember

                              by Joy Harjo

Remember the sky that you were born under,
know each of the star’s stories.
Remember the moon, know who she is.
Remember the sun’s birth at dawn, that is the
strongest point of time. Remember sundown
and the giving away to night.
Remember your birth, how your mother struggled
to give you form and breath. You are evidence of
her life, and her mother’s, and hers.

                              the rest is HERE

       And, quickly, I want to give a shout-out for Naomi Shihab Nye's new book of poetry, Grace Notes. Possibly all you need to know is that she has a new book, but you can find my review here from Goodreads if you'd like to know more. 

Poetry Friday - One Summer Day

 

created by Linda Mitchell

It's Poetry Friday, and Tabatha Yeatts is hosting HERE on her blog, The Opposite of Indifference. She has a special guest that's resulted in a spectacular poetic interview. Don't miss it! Thanks for hosting, Tabatha! 

            I almost wrote a list of 'summer' things, but ended up with one day of celebration. So many signs of summer have emerged these previous weeks. A favorite is when I'm out walking and find the flax in a nearby park has bloomed! Hooray, it's summer! Happy Solstice!

One Summer Day

 

Bedroom curtains

dance in wisps of summer air.

Callings for unplayed games

send un-tied shoes running out the door.

A watermelon awaits 

the midday of summer sweat,

plump and deepest green.  

The cut unveils a madness of red.

The first bite is taken

with drips of pink laughter

dribbling down the chin.

The sun circles through the afternoon

of Monopoly and naps.

Supper’s cold cuts cool the palate.

We take our iced tea to the porch,

listen to the locusts sing the day’s elegy,

and the sun leaves the fireflies to do their duty.

Linda Baie © 

Poetry Friday - With the Poetry Pals

 It's Poetry Friday, and Tricia Stohr-Hunt is hosting HERE on her blog, The Miss Rumphius Effect. This time she and her other poetry sisters are writing pantoums. Here is her explanation:  "The pantoum is a Malaysian verse form comprised of a series of quatrains, with the second and fourth lines of each quatrain repeated as the first and third lines of the next. (I chose to rhyme though it is not required.) You can learn more about this form at The Philadelphia Writer's Workshop and Masterclass. And today, Tricia has written her pantoum to her sweet dog, a loving goodbye. Thanks for hosting, Tricia! 

Thanks for hosting, Tricia! 

            The Time is Here

 

Clocks have chimed; it’s really time

to wander into April’s spring,

to welcome every sprout from seed,

be glad for birds traveling in by wing.

 

To wander into April’s spring,

feeling sunny beams anew,

be glad for birds traveling in by wing

is always one thing I will do.

 

Feeling sunny beams anew,

walking down a path unknown

is always one thing I will do,

delighting in the things I’m shown.

 

Walking down a path unknown

when April asks what more can be,

delighting in the things I’m shown

                                    perchance becomes – a potpourri.

                                                                                                      Linda Baie ©

Happy Poetry Month! It's Almost here!

If you'd like to get the Poetry month poster, go here!

Poetry Friday - Heartbreak

  It's Poetry Friday, and Tabatha Yeasts is hosting HERE on her blog, The Opposite of Indifference. No matter what other wonderful words she posts, I know I'll love the quote at the top! Thanks for hosting, Tabatha!

created by Linda M.

        I thought I was writing to the prompt by the Poetry Sisters this last Friday in February, but alas, until I looked again, I thought they had said "love poems" and evidently did not read it all. They said "epistolary love poems". Yikes! Don't tell my former students that I didn't read "ALL" the instructions. I have no time to do more. Here is what I have this week.

        In my first year of teaching first grade, I had a call from a concerned parent. Remember, no internet, etc. Just a call to ask for a conference. I tried to imagine what the issue was. Her child was a great student and doing well. Well, what she was worried about is that her son had told her he was in love with me and was going to marry me when he grew up. She had to tell him that I was already married and he was so, so sad. It did all work out and we talked, had a lovely rest of the year. I'm sure he's grown up now with a wife and family. It was a wake-up call for me that I would be asked to help with all kinds of problems as a teacher, not just teaching reading and math.

my pic

          

Johnny Loved Miss Jones, His Teacher

 

Johnny was smitten the first day of school.

Upset, he soon learned there was a rule

that six-year-olds needed to grow up first.

He really thought his heart would burst.

Miss Jones could never be his date.

Sad Johnny had to wait and wait.

Throughout his schooling, he kept in mind

this first heartbreak, and, now resigned,

he searched and found a new love true.

To all the memories, he said “adieu”.

This time, grown up, he found a match:

she taught first grade, a perfect catch.

Linda Baie ©

      I host next week's Poetry Friday. March is Denver's snowiest month, but also 

welcomes spring and Daylight Savings Time! Are you wishing anything special for 

March? 

Poetry Friday - Secret Knowledge - An Elfchen

  

            It's Poetry Friday, and Michelle Kogan is hosting HERE on her blog, this final Poetry Friday of 2023, with a variety of elfchens for us all to enjoy!

            Time to turn the calendar pages, make your resolutions, and remember Rainer Rilke's words: "Now let us welcome the new year, full of things that have never been." Wishing each of you a Happy 2024! 

            The Poetry Sisters, hashtag #PoetrySisters, challenged us to write an elfchen this December's end. You can read how Tanita S. Davis writes about it here on last month's post.  I brainstormed a few topic ideas, but a store visit brought me to my poem. I was taking time choosing some items and overheard a young child saying "Please, please, let me." His mother shushed him and quietly answered , "Maybe." I looked up and they had the biggest, secret smile!

Secret Knowledge

 

children

asking permission

know parent’s answer,  

“not right now,” means

thumbs-up!

        Linda Baie ©

photo attribution - Free Stock photos by Vecteezy