Sunday, July 26, 2015

Dylanw

    Photo by Tess Kincaid: Merchant Seafarers' War Memorial, Cardiff

Where
are we?
blinded and
betrayed by time,
endless skies press down
with the weight of water.
Sanded and salted, preserved,
we thought, like a pearl of great price
lamented but unfound and scattered
so my ribs no longer know each other.



Over at the Imaginary Garden Margaret asked us to "play it again" with a previous prompt. I chose a form called an Etheree, an unrhymed syllable counting form, beginning with a first line of one syllable, and continue for ten lines increasing the syllable count by one each line, as follows: 1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10.  The image is from Tess Kincaid at Magpie Tales and is also posted there.  Please follow the links to both of these outstanding writing sites.

Monday, July 20, 2015

On Receiving Orphaned Kittens (or How Not Being Able to Say NO Can Lead to Becoming a Crazy Cat Lady)

    Photo by Mary Bach

Meditation time
is confined to the bathroom
and my Zen sand garden
is a litter box
tended between loads
of laundry.
My life is filled with
dry, crusty milk replacer
and grace.


When Karin asked us to write about grace in the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads I thought I could tell about recent events at my house.  My husband is a vet and we own a rural, veterinary practice that mainly serves farmers. And in our small community I'm known to be a push over for orphans and waifs, so every once-in-a-while when a farmer runs over a mother cat the babies somehow find thier way to my house.  My son insists we are one litter away from being featured on the show "Animal Hoarders," but in spite of everything... I still feel this (sort of) falls under the category of grace. 

Look at this adorableness!

I'll close with a quote: "Don't forget to spay and neuter your pets."  -Bob Barker (and me!)




Sunday, July 5, 2015

Apology


















In my dreams
I am brave and patient
waiting there for you, always,
to leave me.
I am a pillar
at the shoreline
not moving
not wavering
not receding.

Time does not exist
and we are caught
in the amber moment 
when shadows draw long     
and day becomes night
not inhabiting either,
but balanced between
the two 
together.


Over in the Imaginary Garden we are challenged to write 55 words, PLUS, if we choose, to use this image of Beta Beatrix by Dante Gabriel Rossetti, which I did.  We could also use the words of Canto 17 by Dante Alirghieri.