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Son Poem (With Pictures)
There was a time this boy of mine wanted to be close to me. Then he grew and found his own but he knows I’ll always be home - Wherever it is that home may be. I know he knows … Continue reading →
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Morning Frost
Still and grey. A crystalline glaze coats the land. The blazing aura of the sun, newly risen, remains celestial, Its beams hindered by dense clouds resolving downward into mist. A frozen Earth repels...
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Winter Wins
I shiver getting out of bed, throw on my robe, and turn the heat on under the tea kettle. Peering out my kitchen window, I see everything encased in a frosty glaze, making me colder for the looking....
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Far From Here
Or near, maybe it’s all just veneer - and under the surface reality lies, hidden from prying eyes. I look to a falling star, and I wonder just how far that light has come, and know the star and I …...
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Found Poem
I’ve been clearing away some of my paper detritus, and came across a poem I wrote in 2004: Though we are but mortal, bound for dust, Yet within us a noble soul might grow. A comely visage doth not...
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Ode To A Fruit So Pale
Fruit of yellow Tastes so mellow It’s very ap-pealing to me. So fun to spell, and it goes quite well in pudding, bread, or cream pie. Try one sliced – it’s oh so nice topping cereal, or ice- cream...
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Humility
A clock’s tick, my life drip – I watch the ebbing tide. See the day pass away, each dark or brightened hour. Smell the flower, test the water, eat forbidden fruit. Try your hand, strike the band, dream...
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Writing 101, Day Thirteen: Something Found
Shimmering, silver, shadowed light, Guide my path through darksome plight. Arose a call cut through still air, A screech, a chill, nothing there. Trembling hands, heart’s fast throb, Holding back a...
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Winter Trickery
Oh, the treachery of ice under snow! One ill step and – down .you ..go. * * * © seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Life On Earth’s Blog, 2010 – infinity. Tagged: Challenges, DailyPost, Humor,...
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Signs of Spring
Wrapped by this bright day’s light, I know it’s still cold outside, but it’s nice to pretend the air is balmy, with warm spring breezes tinkling the chimes hanging from the porch outside our front...
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April Is The Cruelest Month
The Waste Land – 1922 BY T. S. ELIOT (1888–1965) FOR EZRA POUND IL MIGLIOR FABBRO I. The Burial of the Dead April is the cruellest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead...
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Life Collage
Magazine cut outs pasted on a board – a forward view of life well-lived. An ocean cruise, me and you dancing on the deck with the smell of the sea and the sultry tropical air. Stars winking above –...
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How soft the early days of summer. The cool breezes enliven on this quiet day before the heat casts its oppressive net. * * * © seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Abstractly Distracted’s...
View ArticleCruel Chisel
There is a cruel chisel of hardened steel running through me. It wants to harm everything it sees. That impulse has shown through and marked everything in my life. My better nature can push that down,...
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