Glancing o’er my shoulder, golden glimmer,
green-white shards with petals lithe and awesome,
Shining ‘gainst the sunrise walk a-shimmer,
Striking, spiking splendor: beachside blossom.
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.
though out of view
as yet, unseen
its singular scent
to full inhale,
as visions of a long ago
invade and deep pervade
A young man
shyly pins it to her dress
And she, in turn
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
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.
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
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.”