I love October in the Northeast. Green turns to gold and orange, and deep plum. The outside world is burnished a tawny brown. The smell of pumpkins and apples is in the air. Fall is a time to celebrate the harvest and the bounty it brings. The leaves blow off the trees heralding the coming of winter and the anticipation of snow.
Category: Poetry
Overcoming Writer’s Block
I usually have no trouble writing. I just sit down and let my fingers do the thinking either on a keyword or with a pen in hand. I love writing. It is like breathing to me. It makes possible my thoughts in print. Only then do they become real and remembered.
Rainy Day Poetry
Rain allows for quiet contemplation. It beckons us to sit and ponder. We can watch from our window the refreshing drenching rain. It covers everything with healing and hope. It renews.
Summer’s End
This weekend we had classic summer thunderstorms that blew the yellow leaves of the trees and created rivers from tiny streams. The power of nature is breathtaking and awesome. It reminds me of how small we truly are.
Start with Hope
Lately, I worry more and more about our children. They're growing up in a world that is increasingly violent & divided. Children have more worries & much more anxiety. That is why it's so important to offer hope and joy in small things.
Small in Your Presence
Recently, I've been reading Rilke, specifically Books of Hours: Love Poems to God, and as I was reading, this poem came into my mind. The small things, the things that sometimes seem inconsequential, often turn out to be essential to lifelong contentment.
Maine Meditation
As I wind down my summer travels and wind up for the school year, I am taking this time to return to Maine in photos and poetry. I hope these images inspire you to breathe, relax, and rejuvenate.
Small Joy: Things to Look Forward to
But the truth is I’m mentally and physically exhausted. Where writing usually energizes me, I found it to be a daunting task. So I let myself take a break, and now I find it’s hard to get back into the flow. What do I write about? What uplifting story can I tell? I do not know.
Daughter, Mother – Spring, Summer
As Mother’s Day approaches, I. have been thinking a lot about my mom, Vivian, who died at the age of 91, almost ten years ago. She was a dress designer, seamstress, artist, and teacher. What I didn’t know until this week, was that she was a poet. Poetry was my father’s realm, so I guess she kept her poetry writing private.
Spread A Little Fairy Dust
For some crazy twist in the universe, I am in charge of testing. At first I resented that someone would take their 3rd, 4th, or 5th grader on vacation during testing week. I now admire the parents’ thinking: “The test can wait. It will still be there when we return.” What a commanding attitude. Fun, rest, leisure come first. Testing?
