Last Night's Sunset from My Balcony

I was watching this unusual cloud with my neighbors and here's what occurred:

Those were from my balcony looking south, while westward from my neighbor's balcony, I ran over to capture this:

I was speechless at the display.

Why I Love my Honey

Because not only did he do the food shopping, but when he returned home, he presented the last of the season's, super ripe figs in a lovely white bowl with a large, green leaf underneath them.

Love that man!

Where Sunlight Tiptoes

There's a time
just after breakfast
when the dogs are walked
and clean up done.
I make a cup of Irish tea
carry it to the living room
sit on the couch to sip it.
Sun spills through sliding glass doors
warms the room
as the tea warms me.
This everyday blessing
magnified one day last fall:
John came into the room
to read his book. Kelly
slipped in, laid down
next to the dogs.
The scene etched in my heart
flowed over me
like oil.


This is in response to a prompt from Claudia over at dVerse Poets Pub to write about an incident of beautiful solitude. This scene happened some years ago but stays with me. Head on over and check out the poets who write there.

Three Word Thursday

A friend's gift.

What Role We Have

What role we grands should take fills mind and heart
these days, 'sides love them well, the roots of roots n' wings,
love fierce, connect to all who ancest'red them, bring
complete the circle with them the purpose, the art,
entire, achieved, concluded, free drawn, writ large,
us left breathless at the specter except to sing
our songs for them and attend to theirs gathering
pieces to swell the family trove with their charms.
It's not about them at all, of course, but us,
death's incursion that lies beneath all else
and stands in contrast to their upward slant,
throws us back to what we do with such
lives as we've been given in gen'rous grace, not false
striving to garner praise but pouring hearts 'till spent.



This poem actually was inspired by the dVerse Poets post of September 13 about sonnets. It was a generous and meaty article by Gay Reiser Cannon with lots of information about various kinds and structure of sonnets and splendid examples. I've been working on this since and finished it yesterday. I'm amazed that others wrote theirs so quickly. I post it tonight for Open Link Night at dVerse Poets Pub hosted by Claudia, an inspirational poet in her own right.
(photo taken on my recent trip to Ireland)

Returning Home

It's a particularly splendid day after the torrents of rain of the past few days. The flowers continue to flourish, the table invites a sit to take in the view and enjoy the warmth.

While I've been away the hot peppers matured from green to bright red and have already been shared with eager neighbors. The little ones from Thailand are extra zippy. The bigger Italian ones don't skimp on the heat, though, and are plumped out well. All are grown from seed this year and thrive in this southern exposure.

The air is fragrant with lavender as the flowers not picked die back and scatter grains of scent on the balcony near the table. A good book (I'm currently re-reading The Hobbit and The Lord of The Rings trilogy), a cup of tea, Bocelli and Brightman singing in the background and a slant of sun under the awning complete the scene. Ahhh, it's good to be home.

And dusk falls.

Time Out To Travel

I'm traveling in Ireland, visiting my Honey's cousins. Very limited access to Internet means I have to save up the stories and photos (some great photos).  I'll be back on Friday to catch up.

This Abruzzo Sky

It canopies vineyards and olive groves, this breadth of sky
stretched from the Adriatic to Apennine Mountains
tainted with faintest evening pink, sunset colors.

Everything about this Italian landscape colors
my writing these days, instructs me: specific sky,
named sea, these particular mountains

that I see from my small balcony, Majella Mountains,
part of the Apennine's, darkening as twilight colors
of blue washed with pink change minute by minute this Abruzzo sky.

This strict instruction colors how I apprehend the sky over us all, the mountains we all climb.



This Tritina, a form described last week over at dVerse Poets Pub and offered tonight on Open Link night, came from a conversation with Erin from in search of white space about the importance of naming, and from today's view from my balcony (photo above) in my little corner of the world.