Ready to Make Friends with Poetry? ⟶
I’m recuping from a terrible cold and sinus infection, drowsing through the days with a head full of stuffed cotton. Yesterday I started feeling myself again–Today? Well, I’m almost back to normal. Hallelujah! I can go play outside. And it’s a beautiful day to play. My friend Laura Boggess coined the phrase ‘Playdates with God’…
F a l l in g in love…
So I misplaced my wedding rings last week. And then I found them. After I stopped looking for them. Of course. Turned around and found them on my little outside table next to my favorite chair, where I’d plopped myself after a long day at school. I hate it when I lose things like that…
Writing comes from listening, so I’ve taken quiet steps outside away from the loud to hear better. Eyes open this time to see AND hear–this– the delicate drops of fuchsia, ballerinas fluttering like so many upside-down firecrackers, fragile, full of beauty dropping feathery tendrils to the silent air.
With Tania at AWP Conference–Seattle WA Some poets’ work take your breath away or stop you in your tracks with an ‘aha’! Some will challenge you to see the world a different way than before. Tania Runyan‘s work does all that. Of her many works, her two volumes of poetry based on Scripture prompts intrigued me…
All the books that I am reading All the books that I have read Make me feel my brain is bleeding Surely ‘twill explode my head. Now here, now there, now everywhere On floors, on desks and tables. In baskets, piles, in drawers and files I’ve stacked as I am able. I love…
“That’s what we storytellers do Mrs. Travers. We restore order through imagination. We instill hope again and again and again.” …
Some days I love being an Elementary Guest Teacher. Some days not so much. Today was one of those days. They are dissecting the stories deciding the children should ‘level’ their love of literature, as if they could explode the mystery of words and flatten it, equalize the field of flowers that are…
My husband loves to fly kites. We recently spent four days at the Oregon Coast and he was very much looking forward to getting some ‘air time.’ Not much you can do, though, if you have no wind. So we just waited. And while we waited we sat in our beach chairs and read…
I am parched and dry dreaming of rain like a thirsty crop no, not rain: I imagine a downpour, would prefer a drenching a soaking like rum in a bread pudding. Oh, to be drunk on new wine to relish a draught of liquid life, Living Water. Sadly, there is no time to drink so…