I’d watch him early mornings, pre-work hours,
Examining his plot aside the fence,
He’d smile to see the haze of yellow flowers,
That patience soon would bear some evidence.

I wondered how the psyche of this man,
His fingers slaked and bruised with mason’s glue,
Could find contentment,  purpose from his land
that  ‘fore and after work, he’d tend and hoe.

With pride, when harvest came, he’d reap the gift,
These beauties, filling bushels from the shed,
His chore of love became his evening shift,
We’d marvel at the bounty, rife and red.

Decades hence, with Romas from a stand,
I put up stores of fruit, with him in mind.

Each August, I devote several weekends lovingly coring, peeling and processing  Jersey tomatoes from the farmers’ markets.   I  cannot help but think of Dad, a hardworking tile man, and remember how proud he was of his garden in the back – especially his crop of tomatoes.  I remember, too, the Sunday visits home, when he and Mom would load us up with cans of tomatoes from the shelf on the way to the basement. This photo is more than just a bunch of tomatoes…it’s evidence of a treasured legacy.

Official Dogwood Photography Challenge
Week 37 Storytelling: Seasons
The weather is changing! Find inspiration in the seasons.
Great photographers can tell a story with an image.  

The Bench

There doesn’t seem
to be a glimmer,
No sun to be seen.
It’s hidden high,
Hiding Nigh
beyond the gathering
overcast .

My lonely dockside bench
Side-casts a looming shadow
upon the slaking slats,
As if waiting,
On guard
against the choppy,

It’s at these moments
of intersecting time and space,
Of place celestial yet earthbound.
Evolving atmospheres,
cluttering cloudy
brew-pot of storms,

Week 37 Storytelling: Seasons
The weather is changing! Find inspiration in the seasons.Great photographers can tell a story with an image.

To everything, a season…

Moon hangs on high, as if by silken thread,

Reminding all that night precedes the dawn,

Black storms recede to wispy gold instead,

This pastel morning after rain has gone.

These seven days and nights we journeyed on

in magic ever-after-ness, and ponder,

Joys abound, from this our marathon

beneath the summer sun, with warmth and wonder.

Our family trek this year will soon be yonder,

Spreading lanes with memories we’ve gathered,

For special moments, ne’er be placed asunder,

And family ties have strengthened with each matter.

I view the sunrise on this last of days,

Vacation ends; new pathways wend their ways.


On this, the last day of our annual Disney-world vacation, I zipped up the luggage for early airline check-in at the Polynesian Village, United Airlines desk.

I stepped out onto our lanai for a last look and a long sip of freshly-brewed Kona coffee. The lagoon waters were still and serene under the waning crescent moon, as the predawn, wispy sky hinted of the dissipating storms from last night, and of the tropical day ahead.

Today is a new day. Today we go home. Today, with a few teary eyes, we leave our home-away-from-home. Our doggies, our tomato plants and our own bed pillows await our return. It was a lovely and memorable vacation for many reasons and our 52nd Wedding Anniversary was joyful and special.

And, as always, it’s nice to come home.


Waking up early in New Hope this morning (after a lovely matinee of Mama Mia at Bucks County Playhouse, a wonderful dinner at The Logan Inn, and an evening stroll along Main Street and night cap at Nektar’s) we ventured out for breakfast.  The River Cat Cafe was the perfect place to begin our day, and we sat outside next to an inspired garden. Then I spotted this sculpture – the perfect response to this week’s Dogwood challenge.

rusted, crusted
cracking, bending, extending
hard, ugly, transformed, reformed
eye-catching, striking, sculpting
rewired, inspired

Official Dogwood Photography Challenge: Week 26 Composition: Geometry

Chaleur d’Amour

Even here, 
though out of view
as yet, unseen
its singular scent 
enwraps my 

Causing me 
to pause,
to full inhale,
as visions of a long ago 
invade and deep pervade 
my mind;

A young man 
shyly pins it to her dress
And she, in turn
returns his 
loving gaze;

This creamy gardenia, a warm, fragrant, iconic summer bloom, was for my parents the romantic symbol of their courtship. It was the summer of 1944 (I was not yet a glimmer in Daddy’s eye), when on every date, he would present a delicate gardenia blossom to the love of his life.  Today, I nurse the buds on my gardenia ‘tree’, recalling with each new blossom, the romantic story they shared with me, so very long ago.

Photo Friday: #warm

Tiny Treasure Trove

Shimmering, shining, strewn upon the shore,
  Mollusks wrapped with gem-like stones adorned,
     Awaiting to be scooped and swept aloft,
        Later; tiny remnant on the shore,
           Lovely still, enclosing life no more.

Photo Friday:#small

Peaceful Pause

An afternoon with nought to do but perch
amid the verdant lush, on cushioned bench,
My doggie and my camera, neath the birch,
Watching chipmunks digging out their trench.

When in a flash, a wave of black descended
Upon the branches far as I could see,
Alas, the blackbirds, starlings soared, suspended
o’er my head, “They’re back” to grab my seeds!

Preferring most my finches, bluebirds, wrens,
Their warbles, hues; melodious and gay,
Whilst rueing ruder starling, viewed through lens
her plumage seemed perfection on display.

An afternoon in nature, taking time
to look beyond facades that make us blind.

Photo a Friday:#park

Split Personality

ACandy or breath mint; baffled still,
For why must one be often so defined?
Forsooth, the split identity fulfills
the raison d’etre, often, so combined.

I ponder this conundrum, as I find
a lovely, petaled flower, midst my herbs,
Should I snip the shoots before their time;
to opt for flavor or a bloom superb?

Alas, I cannot choose for both disturb
the garden’s purpose: chives are tasty, fine,
And yet to pluck the stem seems a preverb,
My purple blooms will never get to shine.

And so this simple blossom gives me pause,
At nature’s wondrous mysteries and laws.

Official Dogwood Photography Challenge:

A Study in Scarlet

Streaming ‘gainst the green,
Nature’s scene, profound simplicity.


Photo Friday: #red

Poetry Contest: Four Line Poem
Write a four line poem that has a specific syllable count. The first line has 1 syllable, the second line has 5 syllables, the third line has 5 syllables, and the last line has 9 syllables. The subject can be anything

The Grandfather



It is said that Leonardo DaVinci’s inimitable Mona Lisa, aka “La Gioconda”, was intended to convey the notion of complete happiness and contentment.

So too, does my inimitable husband, aka “The Grandfather”, embody this ideal, as he patiently waits in an accidentally-strewn beach chair in San Juan; while I slosh through the waves at the water’s edge, searching for another perfect sunrise.

Official Dogwood Photography Challenge, Week 17

Balanced composition is pretty straightforward, unless you are trying to shoot in the “Accidental Renaissance” style. So shoot a balanced image in the Accidental Renaissance style.

Compositional Eye: In past challenges we have explored the rules of composition. This year we push the rules even further by using them in specific ways to train your compositional eye.

Photo Friday: #blue

A Question of Shadows

Where do shadows meet the grounded pavement?
Where do sun-blocked surfaces collide?
When will’st come reality’s resurgence?
When will wafted wings loom magnified?

What happened to the speck from fifty thousand?
Why does the vision daunt as earth nears (gasp)?
When will this airborne vessel reach the runway?
How does this tension morph to “Home at last”?

Poems in April; Asking Questions

Official Dogwood Photography Challenge
Week 16: Storytelling – Shadows
Tell a story. Make it compelling while only using shadow.
Story Telling: Good photographers can take beautiful images of something. Great photographers can tell a story with an image. In this category you will take a prompt and turn it into a photographic story

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