Hope your holiday is wonderful. Thanks for reading this blog. I have much to be grateful for and I hope you do too. Today's photo comes from Laura Rodley who explains: “The photo I took while driving home and all of a sudden the clouds were setting on top of the cornfield like a Shangri-la and I had to stop and enter their green vibrating world.” Thank-you, Laura. Let us hope we can all find our own version of Shangri-la. Laura Rodley, is a … [Read more...]
Prompts and ponies
Hey there -- it's Poetry Month! Are you looking for inspiration? Consider these sites that will help if you have writer's block. Karen Craigo's Better View of the Moon has been featuring prompts all month; when it is not Poetry Month, Karen writes about other topics of interest to writers. Marty McConnell's Fierce Voice, which features specific prompts throughout the year. Sign up for the mailing list and inspiration will be sent right to your mailbox. If you are … [Read more...]
Laura Rodley “Madelyn”
Here in Chicago there is no snow on the ground, but some parts of the Northeast are experiencing a Snow Day. So that’s why this poem by Laura Rodley about a runner in the snowy woods seems appropriate. Thanks to Laura Rodley for letting me share her work here. Madelyn She runs without breaking the crust of snow, snow two feet deep, slick with ice, even glows in later sun but that’s not when she runs, her tracks lighter than deer who break through, … [Read more...]
Hunger by Laura Rodley
Hunger Does the maple leaf hunger for the sun, shaking hands with its light, the light that turns the maples’ leaves to rusty orange, heavy with color, so heavy they drop? Does the cardinal hunger for its mate, how they are never more than twenty feet away from each other, the wind of their flight, attaining bird seeds or shelter, so close they thrive? Do the deer hunger for acorns, remembering the buttery taste of those already eaten, or do they step … [Read more...]
Guest Post: Laura Rodley “Gateway”
Gateway Gateway to heaven, Cecropia flits to my doorway, flaps her wings, Morse code from God, life everlasting, she lays her full body against my brass doorknob. Her journey is done, her wings are tattered, she will lay her eggs and disappear. Like all faith, she is ephemeral and falls down from the skies. How did she find me? How did she know I was seeking solace? And she brought a disciple, another Cecropia, much smaller, that lay beside the lit porch … [Read more...]
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