You heard it here first!

A Song for All Seasons, my latest poetry book, is now available for pre-order at Amazon and Smashwords!


A Song for All Seasons is my second poetry book and features poems on the beauty of the world around me, as well as a few musings on life, love, and everything in between.  A print version is also in the works, and I’ve set March 13 for the release day.

I’m pretty excited, and I hope you’ll enjoy reading these poems as much as I enjoy writing them. :)

(c) 2015.  All rights reserved.

Writing 201: Landscape

I do love landscapes, as I’m sure you’re well aware, and Iowa has no shortage of beautiful vistas.  Naturally, I was pretty excited when I saw that today would be all about landscapes.  The challenge was to do a found poem and use enumeratio, but I think I did a better job with the enumeratio yesterday.  Still, uh…well, it’s a pretty little poem, and if I hadn’t been running late this morning, I’d have stopped and snapped a picture of the trees I found so inspiring this morning.

Instead, you get this – a picture of my found poem, and a proper transcription of the same.  Happy Thursday! :)

sculptureLiving Sculpture

Leafless trees reach
For the sky
Amid the frozen waves
Of an icy sea,
Mother Nature’s sculptures
On show for all
To see.

(Just for the record, these cuttings are supposed to represent a tree, not a chicken’s foot.  Or a cactus.  Or any of the zillion things that aren’t trees that I’m beginning to see as I look at this picture.  Guess it’s a good thing I’m not paid to artistically arrange pieces of paper.) :)

(c) 2015.  All rights reserved.

Writing 201: Drawer

Today is a day for odes, specifically in reference to drawers.  I’ve got a lovely set of drawers here, courtesy of Seymour, who procured for me an antique card catalogue for Christmas 2013.  Isn’t it pretty? :)

And because I love it so, I decided that it would be the perfect subject for my ode to drawers.  I failed to insert an apostrophe, but I am rather fond of this little piece, and I hope you enjoy it, too. :)

drawersOde to My Card Catalogue

I have a little chest,
A chest of many drawers,
And in that little chest
Were many worlds of lore,

Fascinating characters,
And far-off places, too –
In my little chest, I
Might have even found a zoo!

This chest is very special;
It was a gift, you see,
From a very special person
Who means the world to me.

Once it held another’s worlds,
Someone else’s loves,
Someone else’s hopes and dreams
And songs of things above.

But now ‘twill hold my treasures,
Every one unique,
And I hope that one day soon it
Will my children’s interest pique.

(c) 2015.  All rights reserved.

Photo 365 #201

I was reading the latest post from Miss Snark’s First Victim this afternoon and was completely inspired – it’s like Authoress was reading my mind!  So I thought, hey, that would make a good post…

So many irons in the fire...

So many irons in the fire…

…and then I came home and fixed supper and read to the boys and sat down to work on one of my many projects and ate supper and put the boys to bed and watched Buffy with Bubbles and Seymour and suddenly, I couldn’t remember what it was I wanted to say.

Here’s the post.  Check it out, leave Authoress some love, and have a great night. :)

(c) 2015.  All rights reserved.

Writing 201: Fingers

So today’s topic is fingers, and the style is prose poetry.  I’ve never done prose poetry before, and from the examples I checked out, I’m not sure how I feel about this particular style of poetry.  Neither said examples nor my attempt at the form feel overly poetic.  Maybe I’m being too hard on myself?  Or maybe I just really don’t get this form.

Regardless, I took a stab at it and here’s my attempt:

connectionMusician’s Fingers

I have my mother’s hands.  Long, slender fingers taper off into music, into songs of faraway people and stories of far-off places.  Words and ideas flow forth from my fingertips like the river pours life into the world around it.

Mine are musician’s fingers.  Mine are magician’s fingers.

My hands, my fingers, create worlds.  They destroy worlds.  They are sleek and elegant, like the instruments they wield and the scenes they depict.  They are tender and careful, conveying love and devotion with the slightest caress.

I have my mother’s hands.  I wouldn’t want anyone else’s.

(c) 2015.  All rights reserved.

Writing 201: Hero(ine)

Ballads are the style du jour, and here’s mine, based loosely around that narrative poem I wrote for Miss Tadpole (which, incidentally, also qualifies as a ballad, but which I thought much too long to reprint here):

The Ballad of Queen Jeverlain

Anná Artwork by Hazel Butler

Artwork by Hazel Butler

A long time ago
In a land far away,
The Queen of the Sea
Turned a prince into clay.

The queen loved his father
With all of her heart,
And when he rejected her,
The queen fell apart.

Consumed by her hatred,
She started to plot
Her revenge on the king.
She had only one shot –

Only one chance –
To make the man pay.
So she studied and planned
And selected a day…

Writing 201: Fog

The next poetry post is about fog. I often find fog inspiring, especially for more thoughtful posts, but I’m not entirely sure this lives up to the elegy form we’re supposed to be trying.
Misty Mourning

An owl hoots in the distance,
Its mournful song piercing the mist.
My heart beats in time
With its call,
Yearning for my love to be

Alas, ’twill never be,
For he roams the lands of night
For all time,
Carrying my heart,
My soul, and my peace
With him always.

The swirling mist soon hides
The owl, and his lonely song
Fades away,
But in my heart I hear it still,
A kindred soul tormented,
Like me, till the end of time.

(c) 2015. All rights reserved.