Pages

Saturday, August 9, 2025

What the Heart Sees




Illustrations and images 

shows surfaces of pastel or oil ~

breathing deep with emotion

makes real a meaning of the heart 

that the artist did not intend.


What your heart sees and

what my heart sees are 

as different as each brush 

stroke, each shaded colour 

on blank canvas or page.





“We don’t see things as they are, we see them as we are.”

~ Anais Nin, author

Friday, August 8, 2025

A Game of Curveballs




Curves wrap through the air

invisible, sneaky 


until one day, 

without warning 


life tosses one 

~ or more ~ 


of those curves. 

Just life testing our mettle.



“We’re not given a good life or bad life. 

We’re given a life. 

It’s up to us to make it good or bad.”

~ Karen Salmansohn, author

Thursday, August 7, 2025

Morning



Illumination of the morning 

slips between the threads 


of the curtain til it gently 

disturbs the dreams of the night. 


The chitter of birds rides 

each ray of light til I rub 


the sleep from my eyes to 

greet the morning with a yawn. 


There is little more until I rise

to open the day before me.  



“It’s morning, and again I am that lucky person who is in it.”

~ Mary Oliver


Inspired by the poetry of Mary Oliver

Wednesday, August 6, 2025

Sunshine through the Mist


 




Lingering on the sidewalk,

I saw them smiling up at me,

sunshine faces as a cloud blanket

misted the morning light.







“Why hurry over beautiful things? 

Why not linger and enjoy them?

~ Clara Schumann, musician

(1819 - 1896)

Tuesday, August 5, 2025

In the 1950's

September, 2013


Playing in the grass 

always takes me 

back to the farm. 


Croquet hoops set up ~

targets for our deadly aim for 

wooden balls hit with mallets 


striped with green or red. 

Taking an old pink quilt 

to the tall grass between


stunted trees to read while 

the sun dappled the pages. 

Just walking house to barn, 


or the garden or out to the 

dugout. Not the grass of 

parks groomed and green. 


Tough, spiky grass that grew 

despite the dry and the heat of 

summer ~ determined to be.


“Childhood is the one story that stands by itself in every soul.’

 ~ Ivan Doig, author and novelist

(1939 ~ 2015)

Monday, August 4, 2025

Notes to Self


Margins of red ink 

scribbled all around 

the neat black ink 

marching line by line 

up and down the page


Notes to self about

spelling, ideas, focus, 

qualities, punctuation 

later to be woven into 

the 400th manuscript.



“What I want are words that 

reflect my heart, not my cleverness.”

~ Hugh Prather, Notes to Myself: 

My Struggle to Become a Person

Sunday, August 3, 2025

Initials


 



Initials carved 

on a tree trunk

~ loving scars 

the tree never forgets.








“Trees are as close to immortality as the rest of us ever come.”

~ Karen Joy Fowler, 

(author of the Jane Austen Book Club)