Category: Photography

Feeling Fanciful

Posted in Inspiration, Photography, Poetry5 Comments

Happy Fall! It’s that time of year when it’s not quite autumn but it sure feels like it. This is my favorite time of year. There is no aroma like that of chile roasting and the vibrancy of color as vegetation sheds its green and prepares for winter, at least in parts of the country and the world. I can’t imagine waking up every day to blooming flowers and greenery in abundance. I like the seasons, all four of them, even that one called spring that blows through like a whirlwind.

AUTUMN MEDITATION
A perfect photo op,
the single sunflower sits atop
a sturdy stem swaying in the wind,
it does not break, nor does it bend.
Sitting there against a sky of blue
its pristine beauty hardy and true.
I want to paint it in words sublime
as I watch its silent swaying mime.

TREE TROLL
There is a troll in my tree,
only I can see,
that’s okay he will be
what he will be
and entertain the child in me.

Brain Storming

Posted in Photography, Poetry9 Comments

I try to write a poem a day, sometimes more than one, but mostly just one. Sometimes they follow a theme and at others the brainstorm is all over the place, kind of a reflection of what’s going on in my head or in my life. So, here’s a selection from the past week that I hope you will find interesting or entertaining or provocative, or all three.

The photo, by the way, is of a recent Las Vegas, NM rainstorm.

THE QUALITY OF LIGHT
How can we not be in awe
of God’s creation?
Grass shot through with sunlight
paints a variety of green
in each blade.

Listen to the trill of a hummingbird
in search of sweet nectar.

Our world is alive with beauty.
May we look at those we encounter
with the same wide-eyed wonder,
seeing in them God’s hand at work
in the beauty displayed by each soul.

LEAVES ALIGHT
Have you seen
how light streams
through leaves
making them nearly
translucent,
as if each leaf
is lit from within?

 NATURE
Trees weep with wonder,
raindrops bead like crystal gems
the shimmer of life.

LIVING THE DREAM
When you’re 17
you think living the dream
is to be popular and pretty,
your size itty bitty.

By 27 you come to realize
happiness isn’t determined by your size,
or looks or being loved by all,
such thinking leads to a fall.

37 arrives and the stunned face
that is your reflection shows no trace
of the hopes you had when you were young
your songs of happy ever after left unsung.

Time marches us toward tomorrow
never knowing if we will face joy or sorrow.
Wins and losses clutter the road in our wake,
and we hope we give back more than we take.

Where did time go?
This is the truth I now know
to live each day with kindness and laughter,
is to be remembered fondly hereafter.

FRAIL
The thing about age
is that it carves
into my body and brain
the impression I am frail,
which to a degree I am,
and feeble-minded,
which I may be,
things don’t stick like they use to.

But… that isn’t who I am.
I have earned the right
to be skeptical about politics
–– not leadership, politics ––
of every stripe and brand.

I have gained wisdom
at the hard school of life.

Silence doesn’t mean
I am addled or not with it,
but that I’ve learned
the sure way to show
how much I don’t know
is to open my mouth
and start talking.

PHOTO: SHARON VANDER MEER

LIGHT SHOW

Posted in Photography, Poetry4 Comments

Glittering with refracted light
snow makes everything look bright
and leads us all to observe with smiles
the quirkiness of nature’s wiles.
In every single pristine flake
dropped to earth for mother nature’s sake
it joyfully renews the earth
awaiting the glories of spring’s rebirth.

SEASONAL SILLY

Posted in creativity, Halloween, Holidays, Photography, poetry, writing8 Comments

GHOST
(An acrostic poem)

Goulies grumble,
howlers mumble,
other worldly sounds a jumble,
sighing, crying, wailing, all around
talking, talking their eerie sound!

BOO TO YOU
Hootie tunes and shrieking screams
scary thingies in your dreams.
On this haunted, hunted night
what next on tap will give you fright?
Creeping, leaping, jumping, sneaking
is that a ghost at whom you’re peeking?

Tiptoe back, slither down the hall
when spooky phantoms on you call.
Get into a warm and comfy bed,
pull the covers o’er your head.

Sweet visions conjure into being,
ignore the specter on the ceiling.
Come out and play, he moans,
Halloween lasts but a day, he groans.

Laugh, laugh away your silly fear,
the pumpkin grin will bring you cheer.
Gliding ghouls are hosts to you
waiting, waiting, and then – BOO!

WALKING IN OCTOBER
There, clouds riding high
in a brilliant blue, blue sky.
Further along blackbirds cluster,
feathers flap with wicked bluster.
A shedding tree bares its limbs,
dropping leaves like floating gems.

A pumpkin here, scarecrow there,
a ghostly presence to give a scare!
The air is fresh with a little bite,
woodsmoke smell of fireplace alight.
Oh, the joy of an October walk,
listening to Mother Nature squawk and talk.

HAUNTED HOUSE
The sorry sounds of ghostly howls
run down the walls like blood
from cuts deep into the weary hearts
of any who tread the halls
of the empty house left to dead dreams.

Once filled with flash and fun,
now memories cluster in corners
left to rot like abandoned meat
nibbled at by rats and brindled cats
prowling the creaking floors where human feet tread no more.

CROW DOWN
The crow cawed its eerie cry,
people shuddered as they hurried by
until the second settled in
bringing luck with its wings tucked in.
A third arrived, a sign of health,
and brought one more, the fourth for wealth.
No, no! here comes number five, does illness loom?
Yes, yes the sixth arrives bringing death and doom.

WHISTLING WIND
The sound abounds and sighs around,
growing soft then shrill as a broken wheel
crawling up my back in a fright attack.
From where does that sound whirl
making hearts cringe and toes curl?
Why it’s nothing more than a piece of tin,
whistling, whistling in the wind.

Halloween 2023. The photo is the resilient flower box by our front door. Seemed fitting for my Halloween-themed poetry. Enjoy!