Thursday, September 14, 2017

Sad and Beautiful

Source
There was something sad and beautiful in the evening sky as I drove home tonight. Two flocks of birds darted fluently in the sky, and then became one flock, then back to two again. The cause of all this movement was a hawk trying to penetrate the shield that the birds became in order to protect whatever bird the hawk was after. It was amazing to see. First, above me out the front window, then getting smaller and smaller in the rear view mirror, as I kept driving.
It was sad to think a bird might lose it's life.
It was beautiful to see the birds working together, protecting each other, and fighting for each other with everything that they had.
I never saw the ending of the story. But, to me the real story is how they came together and worked as one. A beautiful scene of birds that I can't and don't want to get out of my head.

Monday, August 21, 2017

A Breath or Two

The earth was silent,
Just a moment,
Even the birds watched,
Without a sound,
In only a breath or two,
The sun, The moon, stars
One together,
Another breath,
Then, gone too soon.



Friday, August 18, 2017

Even Angels

Source
Heaven must be watching me and you,
Cause even angels need something to do

Tuesday, July 18, 2017

Night Bird

I've been pulling several all nighters this summer, not really by choice. I wrote this little poem one night in the wee hours to vent my frustration. And yes, it was an all nighter last night.
Tired - Ramon Casas

She is a night bird,
Awake all eventide,
Until the morning 
Lark song,
Is heard at dawn.

 

Wednesday, June 14, 2017

Captive

Sweetest June holds me captive in her hands, and the reverie she brings me blooms to over brimming

Thursday, June 8, 2017

I Have to Please Myself, So I Do

I've come to the conclusion that others may not necessarily see me the same way I see myself, and that is okay. This is a consequence that introverts must take because they are quiet and keep their beautiful thoughts and actions to themselves most of the time.
I know who I am inside and what my own beautiful thoughts are, and that I am capable of beautiful actions, when I want to. Sometimes it is more important for me to reverie instead of doing the things that others deem of high importance. I have to please myself first of all, and so I do. I'm sure there are other consequences of being an introvert, and maybe you understand my little early morning rant.
Source

Tuesday, May 30, 2017

Wilde and Free

Source ~ https://ivynewport.com/
Wilde and free,
That is me.
The river,
The wind,
The air,
Alive in me.
Adorn my wings,
Like jewels to see,
Wild and free,
In me.

Sunday, May 28, 2017

A Graveyard of Buried Hopes

I'm sorry. I don't like {what I have seen of} the new series, "Anne With An E." I wanted to like it, but my little kindred heart wants to break when I think that someday, 30 years on from today, girls over the world will think that this new Anne Shirley Cuthbert! {yikes}, is the dear, wonderful, kindred Anne Shirley from Lucy Maud Montgomery's exquisite books. She is just not. 



Please kindreds, let's hold this Anne in our hearts, for as long as we can, and pass her onto the next generation so she is not lost. Otherwise, my life will be a perfect graveyard of buried hopes.

Tuesday, April 25, 2017

Rain Lover

Source
For the millionth time, today I told someone how much I love rain and stormy weather, and for the millionth time they looked back at me in disbelief. Rain-lovers are real, there is even a word for them. We can't all be sun-worshippers, thank goodness.










Rain lover,
Come and dance with me,
We will feel the rain,
And be set free,

Rain lover,
Don't you ever stop,
Loving,

Rain lover,
Don't you ever stop,
Believing,
In what's real,

Rain lover,
Come and dance with me,
We will feel the rain
And be set free.

Saturday, March 25, 2017

In the Trees

Source
I saw my chance and took it,
Right there in the trees,
A waiting gap was open so,
I pulled in and parked beneath,
The pretty blossoms in their prime,
This could be the only time,
To be sheathed up up in the trees.

Friday, March 17, 2017

To Think Where They Have Been

First, the colorful wings I spied,
Heard the soulful, birdful cry,
With one breath, my soul did rise,
Saw the nest, scanned the sky,
My people, my kin,
Nearest to my own skin,
To think where they have been,
Beautiful bird of mine, When
Will I see you again.
 

Monday, February 27, 2017

Shades of Evening

mildred anne butler

Thursday, February 23, 2017

Shelter - My Prayer Tonight

You are the shelter
I need to be my covering
When I need to hide
Myself away from
Human trials and
Things that happen
Outside of my control.
Cover me
Hide me
Shelter me




Sunday, February 12, 2017

Freedom

I've been quiet this winter, but I can assure you that inside my brain, there is a flurry of thoughts, much like the flocks of birds I keep seeing. One day I kept seeing wave after wave of flocks that were stretched out very long in a line, instead of together as a group. Like seven or eight different flocks coming one after the other. Makes me wonder what they know that I don't. Much like them I am longing for spring and joyful at the little things that remind it is spring, and inside my mind, I am full of freedom, as if I am up there in the open sky, flying as a bird-long ribbon that caught the wind and is loose in the sky.
 

Saturday, January 28, 2017

Living in a Pastel World

Breaths come in cold, and go out pale and still. Frozen for a snap shop moment, then turning invisible. Looking up to the sky, her face is brushed with cold air as she breathes in and out, a pattern of white and pale repeats.
Living in a pastel world too long, she looks around with disdain. The roads have been icy just one too many times, the haze covers her view, hiding the natural beauty that surrounds her. Will this end soon enough for her before she goes stir-crazy?
Just then, she makes her way in the parking lot, suddenly turns, and is face to face with a quartet of winter birds, sitting in a circle feasting on birdseed that someone has dropped there for them. A winter miracle right before her eyes, no need to even look up. Beautiful. 
The crunch of the snow on the road is growing weary and old. But right nearby on the road, there is a little shed, colored a pale turquoise and covered in white frozen wonderland. Again it's beautiful.
Reminding her to love this time where she can. To get through it and appreciate the pretty little things that come only this time of year. She will try.


Saturday, January 7, 2017

The Girl Noticing.

by Dianne Lacourcier, called Keeping a Diary.

Here it is January and today I saw a flock of summer birds flying in the sky. Reminds me of this painting, pale colors of winter, birds flocking, and the girl noticing. Could be me.