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:
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
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
Mist entrapping skyscraped shards of glass,
O’er-wraps the city, blanketing as grass.
Reminds one of iconic cat’s paw creeping,
Nature’s nudging, wakens our deep sleeping.
It drapes serene, in silence and in wonder,
No rays of sun this morn, yet still I ponder,
Gentle greeting of this glorious day.
Photo Friday: #Morning
When I was a young girl, I was obsessed with a box of Morton Salt. “WHEN IT RAINS IT POURS” was its message, as the yellow-frocked gal, sheltered by her umbrella, sloshed gayly through the puddles, while a steady stream of salt poured from the box she carried.
It was eye-catching and – to this day – iconic. But my fascination was not about the clever packaging, or the quality of the salt, or even the fun that I might have had, myself, sloshing through the rain. My fascination was about infinity, though as a 5-year-old, I could not have used that word to explain it.
I stared at that saltbox for hours, and at the girl with her box of salt; a box that, presumably, also bore the likeness of the girl with a box of salt, and that box of salt also had picture of the same girl, with another box of pouring salt. And on and on it would go, at least in my young, confounded mind.
When would it stop? When had it begun? Was I part of an intermediate universe as I held that box of salt in my hand? How many universes could there be? Was there another “me” somewhere in the unending progressions of saltboxes? It was confounding, mind-expanding, amazing and awe-inspiring.
Today I ‘m reminded that Blake considered “…a world in a grain of sand…”, and of my younger self, considering a multiverse on a box of salt; as I snap this featured photo of a lovely pair of finches, ignorant of blurred surroundings and the bigger picture, seeking simple seeds of sustenance, beneath the protective dome of an expansive universe.
Photo Friday: This week’s Challenge: Bokeh, Tagged with #bokeh
“The visual quality of the out-of-focus areas of a photographic image, especially as rendered by a particular lens.”
Invading all my senses, warmth and light
upon my back, I never thought to view
a sunrise, as a spreader of the bright
rays, whilst I, enshadowed; sight’s renewed.
My folio is filled with golden hues,
Of morns and suns, ‘cross beaches, lakes and glens,
Yet on this day, alone, mid-field I rue
that seldom had I turned to mind’s eye cleanse.
‘Twas caught mid-field in my converging lens,
(My camera never fails to deep inspire),
We humans oft confound, at truth’s expense,
We’re but mere specks upon this earthly shire.
Reflections interplay ‘tween light and shade,
In solitary calm, my fears allayed.
Week 14:Composition – Center Frame Portrait
Center Framed composition is a great way to isolate your subject. Use this knowledge to create a portrait that exhibits loneliness.
What a fun way to support The Choral Art Society of NJ. Tomorrow night we’ll be filling the surprise goodie bags and planning food and snacks, reminiscent of the 60’s.
I’m not sure yet how I will “dress the part”, but I can’t go wrong with bobby- socks and a poodle skirt. I have between now and Saturday to figure it out.
Suggestions are welcomed!
Your participation is also encouraged and welcomed.
It’s been some time since last I scrunched those blades
of summer grass, dew-drenched beneath my feet,
Yet mem’ries still live, verdant, but now shades
of what was once renewal, soul’s retreat.
I’d wake before the dawn to catch the sweet,
pre-sunrise moments, as the world still slept,
For then, unblemished by the day’s entreats,
I did wander free on ground unstepped.
Of sorrows, joys, a challenge to accept,
Of soul’s contentment, happinesses found,
Of children living lives, of promise kept,
these all were pondered as I trod this ground.
I miss those summer morns upon this spanse,
Remembered well, recalled, through photo’s glance.
Photo a Friday: #Sun
Official Dogwood Photography Challenge:
Week 13, Storytelling…New Beginnings
”Our world is full of circular patterns; as some things end, others begin. Tell us a story of a New Beginning.
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.”
This is my entry for this week.
This room, this space, this temporary place,
Awaiting and prepared for curtain call,
Two hundred voices sing, in hallowed space,
A timeless opus, swept up and enthralled.
“Libera me”, staves fly fast before my eyes,
Rising and descending hopes and fears,
Pleading desperation, truth belies,
accepts soul’s journey to eternal spheres.
No mortal may escape reality,
Yet calming thoughts and visions do sustain,
Through daily lives, we grow our family tree,
We’re born to life, when done, we’ll live again.
This music shared, inspires and uplifts,
That I am blessed to sing: the rarest gift.
Today I am in room at Homewood Suites in Worcester, Massachusetts. This afternoon, The Masterwork Chorus will join the Worcester Chorus, under the baton of Chris Shepard, to present the Verdi Requiem.
As I review my score, don my concert dress and prepare to return to Mechanics’ Hall (a truly remarkable venue), I am filled with anticipation. I am also filled with awe and gratefulness that I have the privilege of singing this work again and that I’ve been given the gift of music.
Once again, I turn to poetry to express feelings that I rarely take time acknowledge.
A glimpse of heaven in a drop rain,
Emerging spring buds straining to burst free,
At first, I only see the the snow’s remains,
Yet, as I think upon it, more I see.
A drop of rain, a grain of sand, a breeze,
We oft o’erlook the truth before our eyes,
Brushing past, intent on seeking ease,
And missing the profound truth, in disguise.
Delving deep beyond the dampened scene,
As globules cling to branches, tenuously clear,
Reflection of our thin reality,
Magnified, surreal, contained in sphere.
It’s nearly Spring, red buds are straining free,
As nature turns, my thoughts return to thee.