No winds at sea.
Ship's sails
at half-mast,
waiting for a breeze.
Hoping to
set sail
once again.
Flags at half-mast
across countless nations.
Hoping to be safe -
to unfurl
the world's Spirit.
Once again.
Just one week ago, on Friday, November 13th
a horrific attack occurred in Paris, France.
Thursday, November 19, 2015
Tuesday, November 17, 2015
A MISSISSIPPI RIVER ADVENTURE
I live just 1 1/2 blocks from the mighty Mississippi
River - and so wish I could live even closer! What
a majestic creation!
It was summer, and a group of writing friends were
spending a "writing afternoon" at my house. After
a couple hours had passed, I put forth a suggestion
that we all pile into the van and drive over to the nearby
Banfill-Center for the Arts situated on Rice Creek, just
before the small river joins the Mississippi. There, we
could spend some time by the river, find a bench, and
do some writing.
Little did I know that not one of the other four people
in the group had ever been right down by the river!
They told me that they had only viewed it by looking
down from up high on one of the many road turnouts.
No wonder they seemed somewhat apprehensive as
we left the van and began our hike down to the river
bank.
And, there was the river! Right before us!
It cooperated by arranging for a lone Belted Kingfisher
to perch on one of the overhanging branches at the
confluence of the two rivers, and to have a small swarm
of minnows "hang out" right close to the shore. A Pileated
Woodpecker let out a call as it did it's swooping flight off
into the distance.
We totally forgot to find a bench to do our writing. Instead,
we piled back into the van, returned to the back deck, and
continued writing in the safety of a nearby, cultivated
flower garden.
River - and so wish I could live even closer! What
a majestic creation!
It was summer, and a group of writing friends were
spending a "writing afternoon" at my house. After
a couple hours had passed, I put forth a suggestion
that we all pile into the van and drive over to the nearby
Banfill-Center for the Arts situated on Rice Creek, just
before the small river joins the Mississippi. There, we
could spend some time by the river, find a bench, and
do some writing.
Little did I know that not one of the other four people
in the group had ever been right down by the river!
They told me that they had only viewed it by looking
down from up high on one of the many road turnouts.
No wonder they seemed somewhat apprehensive as
we left the van and began our hike down to the river
bank.
And, there was the river! Right before us!
It cooperated by arranging for a lone Belted Kingfisher
to perch on one of the overhanging branches at the
confluence of the two rivers, and to have a small swarm
of minnows "hang out" right close to the shore. A Pileated
Woodpecker let out a call as it did it's swooping flight off
into the distance.
We totally forgot to find a bench to do our writing. Instead,
we piled back into the van, returned to the back deck, and
continued writing in the safety of a nearby, cultivated
flower garden.
Sunday, November 8, 2015
W H A T A T R I P T H A T W A S !
Elizabeth and I have just returned from a four-day
"Poetry and Writing Festival" at Grand Marais on
Lake Superior. The trip north from the Twin Cities
was anything but relaxing . . . heavy fog the whole
way. As the driver, I clenched the steering wheel
with eyes glued on the faint road ahead.
We arrived on time and had a fantastic time with
a great group of writers from mainly Wisconsin and
Minnesota. The presenters were most creative!
Lake Superior exceeded our memories with the
sunsets, sunrises, and the sound of waves.
What follows is an account of an earlier trip around
Lake Superior a few years ago . . .
And what a trip it was! Last month, Elizabeth
and I went on a road-trip all around Lake
Superior. The leaves were at their peak. We had
no plans as to where to sleep each night. We
dawdled. We took every side road that went
toward the "Big Sea" that we could manage.
We just walked the beaches, looked for stones,
listened to the waves and wind. Met some very
interesting people in out-of-the-way-cafes.
Of course, Elizabeth took photos and I wrote
poetry.
The tires on our brand-new car went around
one million, three hundred eighty six thousand
times until we arrived back home. (I figured out
the number of miles and the circumference of a
tire and multiplied!)
Amazing the things that people do
with their brains!
"Poetry and Writing Festival" at Grand Marais on
Lake Superior. The trip north from the Twin Cities
was anything but relaxing . . . heavy fog the whole
way. As the driver, I clenched the steering wheel
with eyes glued on the faint road ahead.
We arrived on time and had a fantastic time with
a great group of writers from mainly Wisconsin and
Minnesota. The presenters were most creative!
Lake Superior exceeded our memories with the
sunsets, sunrises, and the sound of waves.
What follows is an account of an earlier trip around
Lake Superior a few years ago . . .
And what a trip it was! Last month, Elizabeth
and I went on a road-trip all around Lake
Superior. The leaves were at their peak. We had
no plans as to where to sleep each night. We
dawdled. We took every side road that went
toward the "Big Sea" that we could manage.
We just walked the beaches, looked for stones,
listened to the waves and wind. Met some very
interesting people in out-of-the-way-cafes.
Of course, Elizabeth took photos and I wrote
poetry.
The tires on our brand-new car went around
one million, three hundred eighty six thousand
times until we arrived back home. (I figured out
the number of miles and the circumference of a
tire and multiplied!)
Amazing the things that people do
with their brains!
Wednesday, October 28, 2015
ROSES ARE RED
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Sugar is sweet
And so are you
(Vowels make a difference!)
A
Rasas ara rad
Vaalats ara blaa
Sagar as swaat
And sa ara yaa
E
Reses ere red
Veelets ere blae
Seger es sweet
End se ere yes
I
Risis iri rid
Viilits iri blii
Sigir is switt
Ind si eri yiu
O
Rosos oro rod
Voolots oro bloo
Sogor or swoot
Ond so oro yoo
U
Rusus uru rud
Vuuluts uru bluu
Sugur us swuut
Und su uru yuu
Violets are blue
Sugar is sweet
And so are you
(Vowels make a difference!)
A
Rasas ara rad
Vaalats ara blaa
Sagar as swaat
And sa ara yaa
E
Reses ere red
Veelets ere blae
Seger es sweet
End se ere yes
I
Risis iri rid
Viilits iri blii
Sigir is switt
Ind si eri yiu
O
Rosos oro rod
Voolots oro bloo
Sogor or swoot
Ond so oro yoo
U
Rusus uru rud
Vuuluts uru bluu
Sugur us swuut
Und su uru yuu
Sunday, October 18, 2015
The Old Arse is A-Moverin
The Old Arse is A-Moverin -
A-Moverin
A-Moverin and
I'm moving on.
One of our daughters stayed for a while in New
Zealand. She and her future husband Dave,
lived on a farm where Susan baked bread for the
family and Dave helped to shear sheep. When
the two of them arrived back, she had a somewhat
revolutionized vocabulary. One phrase she now
used quite often was "Rattle your days" which
was Kiwi slang to tell someone to hurry up or to
get a move on. Dags are the dried exrement
hanging from the wool at the back of sheep.
Rattling days would be when sheep are running.
See you later . . .
got to get a move on!
A-Moverin
A-Moverin and
I'm moving on.
One of our daughters stayed for a while in New
Zealand. She and her future husband Dave,
lived on a farm where Susan baked bread for the
family and Dave helped to shear sheep. When
the two of them arrived back, she had a somewhat
revolutionized vocabulary. One phrase she now
used quite often was "Rattle your days" which
was Kiwi slang to tell someone to hurry up or to
get a move on. Dags are the dried exrement
hanging from the wool at the back of sheep.
Rattling days would be when sheep are running.
See you later . . .
got to get a move on!
Wednesday, September 23, 2015
One Just Has To Give It A Try!
As a little kid of 6 or 7 years old, our
family would regularly eat Schweigert's
Braunschweiger. (I remember it being
called liverwurst.) My dad loved it! I didn't
at first.
The liverwurst would be spread on little
crackers (usually Hi Ho's, I liked the Lone
Ranger), and then consumed with a tall glass of
cold milk.
There was a Schweigert radio commercial
back in 1947 that promoted liverwurst, and . . .
I got the great idea to send them possible
words for a commercial that they could use.
Liverup . . . things could be wurst!
Always an optimist, I actually thought they
would jump at the chance to use it!
Guess what? They didn't.
As Moses was once overheard to have said back
whenever . . .
You can't help but give it a try.
family would regularly eat Schweigert's
Braunschweiger. (I remember it being
called liverwurst.) My dad loved it! I didn't
at first.
The liverwurst would be spread on little
crackers (usually Hi Ho's, I liked the Lone
Ranger), and then consumed with a tall glass of
cold milk.
There was a Schweigert radio commercial
back in 1947 that promoted liverwurst, and . . .
I got the great idea to send them possible
words for a commercial that they could use.
Liverup . . . things could be wurst!
Always an optimist, I actually thought they
would jump at the chance to use it!
Guess what? They didn't.
As Moses was once overheard to have said back
whenever . . .
You can't help but give it a try.
Friday, September 18, 2015
Thunbergia Tamed
I was being watched
from within
a dense tangle
of vines.
Eyes -
liquid and dark,
framed within petals
of yellow-orange,
peering at me
from within
an edge of a
Kenyan jungle.
That was
long ago.
Today, I see
that same vine, with its
liquid-dark eyes, and petals
of yellow-orange,
clinging to a cluster of
red geraniums - growing in
a backyard deck
flower pot.
-I will never forget seeing
those flowers from a corn
field bordering an edge
of a jungle
from within
a dense tangle
of vines.
Eyes -
liquid and dark,
framed within petals
of yellow-orange,
peering at me
from within
an edge of a
Kenyan jungle.
That was
long ago.
Today, I see
that same vine, with its
liquid-dark eyes, and petals
of yellow-orange,
clinging to a cluster of
red geraniums - growing in
a backyard deck
flower pot.
-I will never forget seeing
those flowers from a corn
field bordering an edge
of a jungle
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