Tuesday, December 27, 2022

A Silent Artist's Visit

 A silent artist

etches ice-

beauty on chilled glass. 

The winds were howling and whistling during this last winter storm. The bone-chilling cold could be heard as we huddled inside our house. The trees were swaying and bending but thankfully never breaking. The temperature plunged from 40 degrees to 7 degrees in a matter of a few hours. 

I was walking through the house checking on various things in preparation for Christmas. As I walked into the room where I was hiding gifts, I noticed some beautiful icy artwork on 2 of our windows. The crystals were aglow with red and white from the decorative lights on our trees below. The long icy lines were so thin and delicate. The smaller hash lines crossing them were of various lengths and looked like they had been carefully placed by an artist. This frosty creation in the corner of my window brought joy to a blustery, frigid, worrisome day.

Thank you Jack Frost for the magical silent visit to show me the beauty that could be found in today. 

Poetry form: Lune

The Lune is American Haiku. It is 13 syllables with 5-3-5 syllable count in 3 lines. It was first created by Robert Kelly  

Tuesday, December 20, 2022

Mama, Are You Near?

Mama, are you near?

A brand new world awaits 

And your presence bolsters my steps forward.

Exploring, playing, wondering-

Curiosity pulls me away,

Oh, too far so returning to the safety of you.

Today I had the opportunity to see Asian elephant twins. They are about 2 months old. It is very rare to have twin elephants so I had to take advantage of this opportunity and go visit the Rosamond Gifford Zoo. The elephants are beyond adorable.

The twins came into the enclosure one on each side of their mother. The first thing I noticed was their size. They were so small- just coming up to the knee of their mother. One or the other could often be found walking right under the curve of their mom’s body. It was a safe, secure place.

Once their mom stopped and began munching on hay, the little ones began to explore. Their little trunks stretching out to experience things that piqued their interest. But after exploring for a bit, both would turn to look for their mom. If they had strayed away, they would jog over to touch her side and stay for a moment or too. Then off they would go again with the same pattern- explore, play, check, return. The ever present security of mom allowed them to joyfully play and give great amusement to all the humans gathered around.

It struck me that we are very much like these little elephants. No matter our age, we still look for that touchstone of mom after exploring the big world around us. We share our successes with her but most of all long for the safety and security that only she can provide during challenging times. We stay in her presence for a moment or two and then bolstered by her presence, take steps forward into the unknown.

Poetry form: Cherita (single stanza of 1 line, followed by a 2 line verse, and ending with a 3 line verse)

The poem tells a story.


Sunday, December 4, 2022

Thin Strength


Worn thin but strength within,










Strength within but worn thin.

On a hike this December morning, I noticed the sun highlighting a paper thin leaf. It had faded to cream and was the last leaf clinging to the branch. It was wavering side to side in the cold, forceful winds. It seemed a bit stubborn to me. It was battling all of the elements around it to cling to life for as long as possible.  Even though its life was challenging, it was using the strength within its stem to hang on for another day.

It struck me again how similar to non-human things we are. I know that I have felt paper thin at times, that one more difficulty or unexpected turn was going to break me. I, too, was being battered by the elements of my environment. I had to look deep within myself to find the strength to keep walking through these challenging, uncertain times. My hope, even though it was faint, that things would change for the better allowed me to battle against the stresses of life. I was worn down but would use my soul strength to rise again. This hope allowed me to survive and battle on for another new day. 

My hope for you is during those times of unending pressures and stress that you will find the strength within even though you are worn thin. 

Poetry form: Skinny

Here are the guidelines for the skinny:
  1. 11-line poem.
  2. First and 11th line have the same words (order can be changed)
  3. Lines two through 10 contain only one word.
  4. Lines two, six, and 10 must use the same word.

Sunday, November 27, 2022




biting bitterness

whipped through the day


.............. I stood in your presence.


 beautifying brightness

diminished the harshness


..............  I was filled with comfort and peace. 

"Should I go for a walk?"  This thought was rolling around in my brain last week Saturday. It was a sunny morning but due to gusty winds the temperature felt like 7.  There was a tug-of-war going  on in my mind- "YES- go because it is actually sunny!" vs.  "NO- it is freezing out there!"  Well, the sunny thoughts won out so out the door I went. 

I was certainly cold as I walked into the bitter wind. Then I turned a corner and was facing right into the sun. I could feel the sun's warmth on my face and it made me smile. I also noticed the beauty around me as sun light diffused through yellow leaves as well as highlighted red berries dangling on branches. The sun's presence changed my entire feeling and outlook on the day. 

As I continued walking, the words for this poem formed in my head. I worked on it as my feet led me home. The rhythm of the walk guided my editing of word choice. I recorded the words on my phone so I would not forget them before having a chance to write them down. So grateful that I pushed myself out the door this morning because this walk made me notice the wonderfulness of our sun and be so grateful for its presence. 

My wish for you is the next time the sun shines down on you, may it bring you comfort and peace.  

Tuesday, November 15, 2022

Just like a Child

It's coming overnight.

Eager anticipation pulses in my being,

just like a child.

Morning breaks - no arrival.

My joy shrinks,

just like a child.

Rain, rain- WAIT!- is it one white flake?

Dash to the window,

just like a child.

First flakes prance through the air.

A smile plays on my face,

just like a child.

Joyful magic of season's change 

Bubbles excitement deep within,

just like a child.

The first flakes of the season were forecasted last weekend. I was excited to hear this and eagerly awaited the sight of white in the air. I know everyone doesn’t view the first snow in such a positive way and some even find it depressing.

One thing I do know for sure is that children LOVE the first snowfall. As a primary teacher for many years, I know that when the first flakes are in sight everything needs to stop. All of their attention is out the window and they are literally jumping up and down with excitement. My class gathers around the windows and just takes in the beauty and magic of the snow fluttering through the sky. It is great to just take in the joy on their faces.

As adults, I hope that we can be like young children and look on with awe as the season’s mark their change with this beauty of white. Take a moment, pause and look with open eyes.

Sunday, November 6, 2022

Do the Crunchy Leaf Shuffle


Step with your...









Kick your feet-

                         leaves in the air!

Kick your feet-

                          leaves in the air,

             in the air!


Drag your...









Breathe in deep-

                          Fall is in the air

Breathe in deep-

                          Fall is in the air,

              in the air.

This week has been absolutely gorgeous here in Upstate New York.  It is not often that is 70 and sunny at this time of year.  So I made sure to get out and go for a walk each day to soak up this precious gift of excellent weather. I know that many of my friends did too.

When scrolling through my social media feed, I noticed that many people were commenting on how they love the smell of the air and the sound of leaves crunching under feet. This sound only happens for a short time each year when the trees all seem to go bare within a week. 

All these comments inspired me to be very mindful on my next walk through the leaf strewn trail. I noticed the rhythm of my steps as well as the rhythm of the crunch. I also noticed that when the leaves were an inch or so deep that I liked to drag my feet through the piles for the swish sound that occurred. Of course, fallen leaves also brought out the kid in me as I kicked and threw leaves into the air. It was wonderful to play this way again. I was certainly smiling at the end of my walk.

That fun playful experience led to the idea of writing a Crunchy Leaf Shuffle. I wanted to share the joy of those moments in the leaves with others. Maybe while reading the poem, you were able to connect with the rhythm.  If you did, I encourage you to go outside and find some leaves. Then do the Crunchy Leaf Shuffle.  I hope it leaves you smiling and laughing.


Wednesday, October 26, 2022

Decked in Vivid Finery

Dressed in vivid finery

celebrating lives well lived-                                            

Ethereal beauty bestowed on earth.


Youth has faded away.

Embracing their final days

dressed in vivid finery.

Days ticking by Spring, Summer and Fall.

Opening buds of luscious green become ruby reds

 to celebrate lives well lived.

 A grove basking in sunlight

swaying to the rhythm of the wind.

Ethereal beauty bestowed on earth.

The past weekend was a dream here in the Finger Lakes Region- 70 degrees, blue sky, and sunshine at the end of October. This alone would have brought much joy but add on to this the STUNNING colors of the trees. Looking around, ruby reds, golds, and tangerines were aglow in the sunshine. It was remarkably beautiful.

It struck me that leaves really know how to embrace their final days. They have lived their life cycle and end it by celebrating with beauty. Their last days are their glory. They dance to the music of the wind fluttering on branches until the final release. Then they do a graceful dance to their final resting place. 

Maybe nature has something to teach us again- Embrace and celebrate our aging. Live our final days in glory to cast beauty on those surrounding us. 

Tuesday, October 11, 2022

Oh, Glory of the Night

Oh, glory of the night

provider of brilliant autumnal light.

Giant pumpkin full circle bright

dancing on the horizon at twilight.

Moonbeam messenger that it's time to prepare

before coldness arrives, sure to ensnare.

Your mysterious beauty shines so rare

that all of the earth does heavenly stare.

This past weekend I was on a drive home when I caught a glimpse of a HUGE, brilliant full moon. It looked like it was resting in the branches of the trees just at the top of the horizon. It was playing Hide-n-Seek with the passing gray clouds. When it would be peek through an opening, it glowed so bright. I saw moonbeams streaming through the clouds. I have never seen this before. It was really beautiful. It made my travels along a long flat road very exciting. When it would it pop out next?   It filled me with such joy!  

I knew that it was going to be the inspiration for a poem. Immediately the form of poetry popped into my head- an ode. I needed to praise this extraordinary moon. 

I learned later that this moon is called the Hunter's Moon. It is the first full moon after the autumnal equinox. It marks the arrival of the colder months. Farmers used it as a signal to prepare for the chilly months ahead. The moon appears larger than full moons in the summer months and lingers low on the horizon. It may have an orangish tint.

I am filled with gratitude that I was able to observe this year's Hunter's Moon for a few hours. It was absolutely stunning!

Poetic form: Ode

** The photo does not do justice to the true beauty of the moon that night.**

Sunday, October 2, 2022

Modern Day Pterodactyl

Long, thin feathered fear

Wings outstretched gliding downwards

Will it land on me????

Yes, the other day I was attacked by a modern day pterodactyl!  At least that is what it felt like to me as I was tucked into a ball with my heart pounding trying to escape my chest. 

I was hiking at Fillmore Glen State Park on a lovely cool end of summer day. The Gorge Trail was beautiful and relaxing until…..

in my peripheral vision, I saw something large. I turned to my right and noticed the Great Blue Heron gliding near me. It’s size was impressive. I called out to my husband so he could catch it in its flying glory. Then all of sudden the heron turned towards me and started descending. There was nowhere for this bird to land. The gorge wall was right behind me. My fear of birds erupted through my whole being- WAS IT GOING TO LAND ON ME?????

I turned to go back up the trail but that meant I had to cross a shaky bridge (another one of my fears) and that was NOT going to happen. So I covered my head and bent down. I was just waiting for the heron to crash into me. The next thing I heard was laughter. Yes, laughter!  I looked up to see the heron had turned and was flapping away in the opposite direction- up river and my husband was loudly laughing at my fear induced reactions. Once I realized I was safe, I started laughing too. 

But I will never forget the day I was attacked by the heron or my new name for it the Modern Day Pterodactyl!

(There are no photos of this actual heron as my husband tried to get his camera but was laughing too hard to get it before it flew away. Also, he states that the bridge was very stable- I do not agree!)

Poetry form- Haiku

Photo- this is a heron in flight at a different location- Pymatuning State Park in PA

Sunday, September 11, 2022

Memoir in the Mountains



of Earth

through all time-

weathered and worn,

craggy, creased, wrinkled.

Frown   fissures   at   the   foot.

Laugh   lines  litter   the  steep   slope.

Crow’s  feet crack the sun-kissed  summit.

Earth’s    memoir    entombed   in    creation. 

While in Alaska, I sailed closely by many mountains. While in Glacier Bay, I noticed the many lines, cervices and cracks covering the surfaces. Immediately it popped into my head that these markings are similar to the wrinkles on our faces. People often mention that those wrinkles tell our story. I wish I could chat with the mountains to hear about the worries, joys and other experiences that left these markings on the Earth’s face. What would be told in the memoir of these mountains- I wonder…

Poetry Form: Nonet but I took the liberty to reverse it so I would say it is a Reverse Nonet. I started with 1 syllable on the first line and ended with 9 syllables for line 9.  I chose to do this so the poem could form a mountain with it words. 

Friday, September 2, 2022

Oh, My Smallness

Majestic mountains

soar miles to a summit crowned by clouds.

Oh, my smallness in this world 

- a mere pebble.

Immense glacial walls

sculpt the land for ten thousands of years.

Oh, my smallness in this world

-a mere millisecond.

Pure awesomeness of God’s creation

accentuates my humble humanness.

Oh, my smallness in this world

- a mere inhabitant.

I recently had the privilege to sail Glacier Bay National Park and Preserve. As I sailed farther and farther into the bay, I realized my smallness in comparison to the ultimate grandness surrounding me. The Park Ranger accompanying our ship made a comment about how we were sailing back in time. I felt this way as we passed mountains and glaciers that have been part of this Earth for more years than I can imagine. This was pure wilderness as no humans inhabit this area. There was a quiet hush as many passengers stood in silence honoring the amazingness around us. 

As humans, we believe that we are the BIG thing on this planet. More important than anything else on our Earth. But, being here makes you notice how small we really are. The Earth can survive without us and will continue on past our smudge of a lifetime.  We should be humbled by      this and take care of our planet that provides for our lives. 

Tuesday, August 16, 2022

Resurrect Your Beauty, Pronounce it Proudly

                                          How to Be a Water Lily                                                                          

Water-dwelling majestic flower,
Command notice.
Do not be demure in your splendor.

You are not a one trick pony.
You are more than starry beauty afloat.

Reborn annually from your winter home of pond muck.
Change hues as your blooms mature.
Provide shade to cool water and slow growth of algae.
Shelter fish beneath your leaves from eyes of prey. 

Close at darkness.
Reopen at dawn.
Resurrect your beauty and pronounce it proudly.

The other morning I went kayaking at a local spot that I frequent often. This time my local pond had a surprise for me. As I slid my kayak into the water and began paddling, I looked up and saw water lilies in bloom all around the pond. I have never seen this many water lilies in bloom at one time! Such beauty surrounding me! The edge of the circumference was dotted with white flowers all the way around.  

Water lilies are one of my favorite flowers. They offer quiet beauty to their watery environment. I love to row as close as I can to them without disturbing the water, leaves or petals and just take time to observe their beauty. This was a very slow paddle as I maneuvered through the collections of water lilies and caught them at different points of blooming. Such a morning delight!

Poetry form: How to Be a ….

Wednesday, July 20, 2022

Fuchsia Whispered Wows

 A palette of colors 


the tip of Mother Nature’s paintbrush.

A dip into fuchsia pulls color across the sky.

Next orange sherbet spills across the atmospheric canvas.

A deep lavender dabbles cloud streaks,

as a faint baby girl pink tops off the sky.

A day-glo orange orb


through the colors of this evening’s 


A crowd of people stood silently on the beach watching the sun sink into the waters of the bay. An utterly amazing fuchsia shade glowed underneath dark lavender clouds. You could hear whispered wows spreading through the crowd as everyone absorbed this beauty. 

I have seen many sunsets in my lifetime but this one was so unique. This sunset over the bay at Dewey Beach had colors like I had never seen before. It seemed almost incomprehensible that the sky was this ablaze with such a vibrant pink. My phone’s camera could not capture the colors’ vibrancy. It did not even come close! I just needed to stand there and soak it in so my mind would be able to pull it up as a treasured memory of this year’s vacation. 

Thursday, July 7, 2022

The Moon Did Play


The moon came out to enjoy the day.

Amongst the cotton-candy sunset, he did play.

Glowing brightly, catching his friend’s ray,

Then tossing it back, his celestial talent was on display.

So tonight I caught a poem. I was sitting in my backyard when I turned around for a second and noticed the half moon glowing in the daylight sky. A thought popped into my head-“ The moon came out to enjoy the day.” Then the next rhyming line just flowed. I was not intending to write a poem but I immediately grabbed my journal and started writing. The words just flowed out. I love when this happens! Such a great way to end this lovely summer night.  

Honestly, in my opinion, today was the perfect summer day. It was a glorious blue sky, full sunshine, no humidity, high 70 degree day. The moon had the right idea. Who wouldn’t want to play and enjoy this gift of a day. 

Monday, July 4, 2022


Silently rolling,
        and growing,
        crashing, roaring
                            Silently rolling,
                                   and growing,
                                   crashing, roaring
Silently rolling,
        and growing,
        crashing, roaring
                            Silently rolling,
                                   and growing,
                                    crashing, roaring,


While on vacation at the beach, I was mesmerized by the beauty and music of the waves. They are so meditative with the continuous repetition of building, crashing and retreating. There are small moments of silence right before the next breaking roar of the oncoming waves. Sitting in the sun, watching the sunlight dance on the highest peaks of the waves was pure beauty. The water looked bedazzled! Each wave seemed to wash ashore more and more peace and relaxation and pull the worries and stress back out to the sea. So grateful for these days of relaxing by the ocean.

With my poem,  I tired to capture that meditative feeling through the use of repetition so I can carry this moment with me when I am away from the ocean. 

Thursday, June 9, 2022

To Thwart the Heaviness



Yet clinging to one another

To thwart the heaviness,

And offer a clear lens

With a new perspective 

Of our topsy-turvy world. 

It had been a very rainy morning. I glanced out my window and saw raindrops clinging on to the ends of leaves and flowers like they were fighting to not let go. It seemed liked they wanted to still exist as raindrops and not just soak into the soil below.

This clinging of raindrops made me wonder how they stay on the delicate petals and pointy leaves without just falling. I did some research and found out the following:

1. Do to adhesion which counteracts gravity, the water molecules cling to another dissimilar surface.

2. Often instead of a perfect circle, you will find dome-shaped drops due to the texture of the material they are adhering to as well as the angle.

3. These globes of water are wonderful crystal clear lenses with inverted images.

In taking the time to slow down, notice and think about the beauty after the gloom, I realized that these little raindrops have a lesson for the world. Given the heaviness that is all around us, should we not join together and support each other through the negative forces in our world. By embracing the diversity of our human race, we will gain different perspectives and possibly see things in new ways. Maybe if we were more like raindrops forming attachments to surfaces different than our own, this topsy-turvy world could find some peace. 

Sunday, May 29, 2022

Primed and Ready


Fuchsia orb of tightly packed petals,
Wrapped together for one more sleep,
To be awakened by warmth 
Of the sun’s morning kiss,
To feed its beauty
That is so primed
And ready
To burst


Mother Nature’s gift
In the glory of morning-
Bright beauty unfurls                                                             

These photos were taken approximately 12 hours apart. I was in my backyard yesterday and noticed that my peonies were about ready to bloom. An excitement rose within me and I could not wait until morning. I knew that the sun would provoke these buds to bloom. 
Upon waking this morning, it felt a bit like Christmas. There was a positive energy and excitement buzzing in me. I went down the stairs and immediately looked out the back window to see this gift from nature. The sun had worked its magic. The peonies were in full bloom with their fuchsia petals open and waving in the gentle breeze. What a beautiful way to begin the day!

1st poetry form: Nonet (9 line poem with decreasing syllables per line from 9 -1.)
2nd poetry from: Haiku (3 lines following syllable counts of 5-7-5.)

Monday, May 23, 2022

Startling, Magical Triumph

Barren and changeless                                                    

over months and months on end


startling, magical change

Signals life triumphs again.

This Bonsai tree has been in our home for 4 years now. Each December, it loses all of its green leaves. I keep it in the window through 5 months and it looks like a barren tree. My daughter commented that it looks like I am growing sticks. 

By now you think I would have learned the magic of this small tree. As the months of April and May pass, I doubt that this tree is still alive.  There is no change and my doubting increases with each passing day.  I wonder if it has finally died. Then as if by magic, one morning I notice the smallest green thread reaching out of the end of a branch. This sudden change always brings me such joy! I know that this plant has survived its life cycle again. More and more thin green leaves appear and grow a little broader each day.

Thank you little Bonsai tree for the reminder of rebirth after times of desolation. 

Poetry Form: Tanka Poem

Japanese poem with a syllable form per line of 5,7,5,7,7.


Sunday, May 15, 2022

Sky's Playfulness


blues, whites, grays

a kaleidoscope

made of sky's


of ever-shifting patterns

designed by earth's breath.

It was an absolutely gorgeous Saturday morning. I began the day with yoga on the edge of Lake Ontario. The blues of the lake and sky were just stunning. 

As my yoga practice came to a close, I reclined on my mat in shavasana. I decided to keep my eyes open given the gorgeousness of my surroundings. I was gazing upon wispy clouds against a cerulean sky.  Taking the time to just soak in the sun and sky above,  I was amazed at the delicate ever-changing patterns of the clouds above me. I was taking the time to immerse myself in this moment. Clouds would appear, flow, merge together or separate creating paintings on a solid blue canvas.

It truly was amazing how wisps of water vapor and subtle winds could create such masterpieces! Nature is truly an artistic genius.

Poetry Form: Shadorma - A Spanish six-line poem with 3/5/3/3/7/5 syllables in each line.  

Thursday, May 5, 2022

Master of Survival


How to Be a Dandelion

Be a master of survival.

Bring beauty to unexpected places.

Don’t surrender because not all see your worth. 

Settle into cracks, crevices and crusty soil.

Send down strong roots and spiky, green leaves up.

Don’t cower in these unknown places.

Bloom bursts of sunshine.

Stand strong and proud.

Don’t hide in the shadows.

Die valiantly golden warrior.

Carry wishes on the breeze.

Do celebrate seeds of hope.

 The other day it was actually sunny and warm so I decided to soak up some sun while doing backyard yoga. While laying on my yoga mat, I gazed across my lawn that was sprinkled with golden confetti. The dandelions were in full bloom celebrating a beautiful spring day. The vibrant yellow splashed against bright green grass was joyful.

I realize that not everyone values dandelions. I honestly do enjoy them. I admire how they grow in unexpected places like cracks in the sidewalk. I view them as wildflowers and not weeds and welcome their sunny faces in my yard or gardens. And even as an adult, I like to make wishes as I blow their fluffy white seeds into the air.

Next time you see dandelions, take the time to notice the beauty they bring to the world.

Poetry form: How to Be….

Thursday, April 21, 2022

Grazing for Spring


Green buds open,

paper petals

pepper the sky-

morsel of Spring.

Golden clusters,


of vibrant stars-

morsel of Spring.

Rising green waves

cresting over

dead leaf litter-

morsel of Spring.

Petite sunshines

climbing rock walls,

wishes to come-

morsel of Spring. 

It has been a gray, cold April here. The other day was sunny (still cool)but I was beckoned outside. As I walked, I noticed small notions of Spring. I was grazing to remind myself that Spring really is here and days of warmth and sunshine are near.  I was filling myself with images of a variety of leaves poking through brown dead leaves, flowers blooming and trees buds opening. Each time I spotted a new sign more joy and hope filled me. At the end of the walk, I felt full of energy. I was so thankful that nature fed my soul today.

Poetry form:  4 X 4 ( 4 syllables, 4 lines and 4 stanzas)

Sunday, April 10, 2022

Refracted and Reflected Hope

Refracted and reflected sunbeams      

Arcing delicately across the grumpy, grayness

Instant bursts of magical color

Nature’s way of making humans stop, stare and smile

Bride of rain

Offering hope

Worried world remember the promise of God

I had the pure delight the other night of seeing a large rainbow after a couple of days of grayness. I was driving home through changing weather- big, plonking raindrops one minute and then the next bright sunshine through some puffy white clouds. In my head  I whispered, “Could there be a rainbow?”. Then I came around a bend in the road and saw the beam of colors gloriously in front of me.  Instantly, I smiled and felt joyful. I grabbed my phone and tried to grab a photo before it disappeared (I was not driving). When I arrived home, all over social media were similar photos of this rainbow. This phenomenon of nature delivers moments of bliss to those who observe it. They also offer hope of beauty after darkness. Rainbows help keep our awe of this world alive. 

Saturday, March 19, 2022

Patch of Joy





blooms open


Leprechaun nature trickery

I had some luck of the Irish this St. Patrick’s Day. Upon arriving home, I glanced out the windows to my backyard and found my own pot of gold! The back quarter of my yard was filled with these lovely petite yellow blooms. 

This morning there had been nothing but brown and gray out these same windows. The sun and warmth worked their magic during my school day bringing forth this treasure. This goldenness filled the yard and myself with joy.  Spring is coming soon was their announcement. 

(I do believe this is the earliest I have seen them over the years.)

Flowers: Winter Aconite - even though they bloom in early spring. They are honey-scented upward-facing flowers that carpet the ground in shimmering gold. The flowers range in height from 3”-6”.  They are deer resistant which works well for my yard. 

Poem: Fibonacci Poem 

A six line poem that follows the Fibonacci sequence for syllables in each line (1,1, 2, 3, 5, 8)

Thank you to Leigh Anne Eck and Time to Write for sharing this form with me and allowing me to play around with it at our writing party. 

Saturday, March 12, 2022

Wondering When the Last Will Be

Each moment in your presence now,

I collect in my being

wondering when the last will be.

Joyful love always existed 

but I am awestruck

each moment in your presence now.

All that you are and bring to this world

quiet beauty, brightness, persistence

I collect in  my being

Is this the last long embrace of all held dear

or can I anticipate a soon return-

wondering when the last will be.

It is almost mid-March and a big snowfall happened during the darkness of night. The world was once again quietly turned into a stunning winter masterpiece. Trees looked like they were dipped in sugar and stood upright in a fluffy blanket of white. It really is beautiful but immediately I started wondering if this is the last time this will happen as each day we inch towards spring. I know that there are many people where I live who are tired of snow and probably felt sick looking out the window this morning. I on the other hand wondered over the possibility of the last embrace of winter and wanting to treasure this beauty that only exists during winter months. 

Besides pondering the end of fluffy white snowflakes, I am also walking through feelings of seeing my oldest merge into full adulthood and getting ready to leave his childhood home. He graduates from college in a few months and is searching for jobs in various states and cities. I am so proud of all he has accomplished but am soaking up each and every moment with him because I do not know how soon he may be moving away and not for just a semester. 

These words flowed out early in the morning. I am not sure which refer to winter and which refer to my son. The words could truly relate to both of them and maybe the focus shifts between them in various lines of the poem. But either way, I will be cherishing the moments in both situations and wondering if this is the last time for now. 

Poetry Form: Cascade

 For the cascade poem, a poet takes each line from the first stanza of a poem and makes those the final lines of each stanza afterward. 

Sunday, March 6, 2022

Hope on the Breeze


caresses my face with freshness 

that fills my soul.

A fragrance from heaven

enlivens my breath

with hope and vitality.

A glimpse of a new season

rejuvenates my spirit

promising that light and life overcome. 

Throw open the windows!! It is 70 degrees today! The past few months have been filled with winter "brrr" and it returns tomorrow. So seize the moment- open the windows and let freshness fill the house.

This is typical March weather here in upstate New York. One moment it is winter and the next it is spring. It is such a treat each year when you are able to open the windows again.  We all know that it is too soon for spring to stay but it gives such hope that those daily warm temperatures are coming ever closer.  It will be approximately another two months before the rebirth of nature fills our yards with vibrant flowers, leaves on trees, and bright green grass.  But today, well today, it confirms that the grayness, harshness and darkness of winter is fading with each new day into the light, hope and joy of spring.  


Wednesday, February 16, 2022

A Poetic Round of Seasons

The summons-

winter wildflowers

waterfalls frozen in a moment.                                 


The birds SANG!-

two season intertwine

guardians of Spring's door.

Skyscrapers in the woods-

dance of joy

Spring serenade.

Small masterpieces-

golden warrior

the knowledge of trees.

Love in the lilacs-

Comforting coo

Beauty, gratitude, peace.

                                                                                                           Ombre blue-


stillness' illusion.

Summer lights-

embrace or wither

a square of sunshine

jewels of a storm.

Flowers= memories and smiles-

some love for shade

am I that acorn?

Caught in a glance-

beams of heaven

summer slips to September.                                                                                                               

Reiterate wishes-

behold the beauty

nature= truly me.

The beauty in an ending-

fading mask

maturing to let go.

Bathing in a forest-

beautiful or horrific?

shining delight- December sunlight.


A whispered wish-

triggered transformation

accumulating quiet.

                                                                                                        Beautiful winter blues-

a cry unfrozen

a poetic round of seasons.

I honestly can't believe that I have been posting to this blog for a year. The first post was February 15, 2021. I have walked and written through all four seasons. I hoped to have captured the beauty that nature possesses during the changing seasons in my words and photos. 

The above poem is a Found poem.  I just took the titles of my blog posts in order and the above poem is the result. I was surprised at how well the titles could flow from one to the other- well,except- Am I that acorn?

I want say thank you to...

  • you, the reader. I hope you have enjoyed the posts and experiencing the awe the can be found in nature.
  • Jen Knight Laffin for inviting me to Time to Write and Teach Write. You made me be able to say- I AM A WRITER! Your coaching was so valuable to me. It made me be able to put my words out into the world.
  • Donnetta Norris and Teach Write for offering courses that helped me develop as a writer and specifically how to begin a blog. Donnetta - you were a wonderful teacher!
  • Greg and Felicia for going on hikes with me in all types of weather. 

Thank you for reading through a year. I hope that you will continue to check in with this blog. I will keep walking, writing and sharing. 

Magical Medicine for My Soul

  Dear Mother Nature, I just wanted to express  my thanks to you  for the constant care you wrap around me. Your fresh air cleanses my body ...