True Story - Almost

On the porch, a squirrel scampered, tracing a route traveled many times ~

from lawn to fence ~ from fence to rocking chair with a bouncing leap into the flower bed to find his cache of a peanut the gardener’s trowel has yet to uncover.

“The squirrel in my yard really knows his way around the neighborhood.”

~ Bob Saget

Dreaming

June, 2016

When the soil is turned

whether garden or field

an earthy bouquet emerges with leafy echoes 

of tractors or trowel,

blackened knees and hands,

and tender new plants ~

fresh food for our bellies,

fresh flowers for our tables.

“In spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.”

~ Margaret Atwood

The Magic Pendant ~ A Writing Exercise

Writing from a different exercise today, I have a short story for you. The story title ~ The Magic Pendant ~ is from the same website that I often use. (www.writingexercises.co.uk) However, to change things up a bit for my writer’s brain I went to the Children’s Section under Story Title Ideas. My goal really was to find more creativity with my words. Writing from this section really tasks me to be playful, a task that I quite enjoy. Unfortunately, I was not allowed to photograph the real Magic Pendant so have obtained only a poor imitation of it. Please enjoy:  The Magic Pendant

The Magic Pendant

The magic pendant lay in her hand. Made of burnished gold, with curlicues and diamonds, it should have felt heavy but there was no weight to be felt. Gliandra pushed on a tiny button on the side of the pendant, not knowing what would happen. She jumped ~ just a little ~ when it popped open. Butterflies and hummingbirds flew up, up into the air. She should have been frightened but they glistened with gold and all the colours of the rainbow. Gliandra had been very sad. Her beautiful grandmother, whose hair was as white as a beautiful cloud, whose skin was as soft as Gliandra’s bunny rabbit and whose smile was a brilliant as the golden locket that she held in her hand, had gone from this earth. Gliandra didn’t really know what that meant, but she knew she would not see her again. Especially when her mother, Lady Héloise placed the locket in her small hand. 

‘This is what your grandmother wanted me to give to you, my child. It holds much magic and you are to wear it always close to your heart. Do not open it when others are in the room as there are many who would want to take from you what your grandmother has left to you.’ 

Gliandra heard footsteps coming towards her door. She quickly closed the locket and held it gently in her small hand. The butterflies and hummingbirds had disappeared as quickly as they had come, leaving only a faint scent of lavender behind. The footsteps passed by her room. Gliandra knew, that although her grandmother was gone from this earth, she had never really left the hearts of those who loved her. 

Years later, Gliandra’s grand-daughter, Persephone, stood in a different room and at a different time. She wore the same magic pendant ~ the beautiful gold locket full of butterflies and hummingbirds that only appeared when, alone in her room, Persephone opened it. Her mother, Lady Angelica, had given the locket to her with the same message.

‘This is what your grandmother wanted me to give to you, my child. It holds much magic and you are to wear it always close to your heart. Do not open it when others are in the room as there are many who would want to take from you what your grandmother has left to you.’ 

And so it went. With each generation, the gift of love and memories passed from one to another. Sadness was crumbled and joy remembered. What is your ‘magic locket’?

“The humblest tasks get beautified if loving hands do them.”

Louisa May Alcott, Little Women

Aura - A writing exercise

Writing from a random first line: a writing exercise I often do when stuck for words. I usually use a website for this, but this morning, this random first line just came from my own thoughts.

Aura

A perfect aura of calm settled around her. Something she could not see or hear. Only a feeling that lay on her shoulders like a silken shawl. Her shoulders, almost up around her ears with tension, dropped and relaxed. Soft music played as though from a distance. Her breathing slowed, letting any anxious thoughts slip away. There was little movement outside her tiny cottage. Only the sound of a squirrel rustling in the willow tree by the pond. A gentle rain had slowed and stopped. Birds paced their twittering into the calm of the cool afternoon. Betina took her ease outside into her flower garden. Sitting in the sun, her teacup warming her hands, she accepted this gift of calm.

“I was content to shape the quiet into the structures I wanted”

~ S.Jae-Jones, Wintersong

Just in Case........

Little drawers

Big drawers

stuffed with perfect bundles

of organized clutter

tucked away

just in case but

out of sight

out of mind.

lonely computer cords.

forgotten project supplies.

fixit things squirrelled away.

neglected artist’s tools and paintings.

criss crossing through years 

of progress, plans and maybe’s

kept together for later,

someday or sometime.

“Just in case is the curse of packing,,,,,”

~ Alexandra Potter

Changeable

Wind at rest ~ for now.

Blossoms and branches

sculpt lacy patterns against

patchy thin clouds under 

faded blue sky.

Flitting spatters of rain 

dapple sidewalks.

Multicoloured umbrellas hover

over going-to-work coiffures.

Victoria weather ~ changeable.

“If you don’t like the weather in New England now, just wait a few minutes.”

~ Mark Twain

Denial

Wind swirled viciously,

threw freezing splats of rain

ice-cold from sea or mountain.

Cherry blossoms torn 

from thinning branches

flew helter-skelter

to puddled asphalt

denying spring her crown.

“A great wind is blowing, and that gives 

you either imagination or a headache.”

~ Catherine the Great