sorting photos long ago, it seems so long ago all faded now to harvest gold and avocado green glossy rectangles and squares declare it so stiff sepia grooms and lacy brides that glow coiled hair, dark lips, like 20’s starlets from the screen long ago, it seems so long ago hosts of people I don’t… Continue reading sorting photos
Diane's post about wild geese on Random Noodling last Poetry Friday reminded me of this poem. Are the geese doing their autumn flypast where you live? This post is submitted to Poetry Friday, hosted this week by Diane at Random Noodling
Train Song Sing train to me whistle high-low slidenotes echoing through canyons calliope your coming - Violet Nesdoly ************* There are few sounds that make me feel as nostalgic as the whistle of a train. That's probably because trains were a part of my childhood. Our farm bordered on a branch line of the old… Continue reading Train song
************** We returned home on Tuesday from a wonderful two-week holiday that we spent exploring Salt Spring and Vancouver Islands. What fun it was to hike beach trails, find our way to an artisan bakery and a goat cheese factory, attend the Saturday market, and generally make friends with some beautiful spots on our B.C.… Continue reading beach poems
Love Of Fare At the poetry fair verbiage fills the air as I sample each poet’s concoction: haiku-rich canapes, free-form salads, parfaits of thick verse, sonnets baked to perfection. Wine of symbol and sound, liqueur lyrics abound I’m becoming an addict of diction, till I stumble around very drunk on profound poems that make my… Continue reading Love of Fare – Poetry Friday
Medalled Life is a balancing act of giving and receiving a volley of serving and being served We need to learn to use misfortune’s winds to sail us forward jump over each day’s hurdles without breaking stride focus on our targets so that we might hit them stroke, stroke, stroke and never stop until the… Continue reading Medalled
To Mel at 60 (with apologies to Rudyard Kipling) If you can keep on rising each day early to swim and run and cycle in the rain can miss the family fun and not be surly because you’re lifting weights and must cross-train; If you precede the body crush on entry glide in the swimmer’s… Continue reading To Mel at 60
I find my old Doc Watson record Who would believe a plain black disk could hold such Shady Grove secrets or a needle on the end of a robot arm could tickle from a spiral of ridges guitars, banjoes, fiddles reeling around the room hoboes harmonizing jailhouse rhythms and a mountain man who fills the… Continue reading I find my old Doc Watson record
Beach day Sand-warmed intimate air drifts sunscreen, hot dogs, kelp sun-mellowed, anticipating fireworks -Violet Nesdoly *************** I love, love, love summer! Happy summer mornings, afternoons, and evenings to all who read here. This poem is linked to Poetry Friday, hosted this week by Tabatha at The Opposite of Indifference.
Photo by Fotolia Lightning fluorescent zig-zags crackles on the radio my heart skips a beat fluorescent blue-white against black-cushion ring box heaven’s diamond fling zig-zags prelude bass rumbles decay to stutters stillness patters rain crackles interfere chamber music percussion bringing storm inside on the stately notes flute, cello and violin static charges crash the rain… Continue reading Lightning
Violet Nesdoly 