July 13th, 2011
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“we stagger through an immense summer morning after showers leave their sweet bouquet
smelling of liquid lace, lovely as a song and secret wild blossoms……”
“the sun has burned our skin dry, like a slender page,
we crack with sound and heat, like red dirt whipping on the wind
thin streams of perspiration trailing cheekbones pink with heat”
“green leaves shimmer with resigned fury against the burning sky, clouds sift by
lazily chasing the sun, tomatoes gently boil on the vine
and even my shadow has left to look for shade.” KJS
“Summer is the time when one sheds one’s tensions with one’s clothes, and the right kind of day
is jeweled balm for the battered spirit. A few of those days and you can become drunk
with the belief that all’s right with the world.”
- Ada Louise Huxtable
November 6th, 2010
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Remember Magnetic Poetry? Those kits with all the tiny magnetic words that you could put on your fridge and get creative with?
Well I had a book- a magnetic poetry book with a pouch and a magnet board. I used to like to keep it in the car when Griffin was younger, and sometimes he would play with it and try to make words, but really, he wasn’t much of a poet at 5 or 6.
I was though. Sort of. I enjoy poetry and have written some pretty decent words, some that date back to 1987. I guess that ability to paint pictures with words flows from that into this writing here, hmm?
But recently, I pulled that old magnetic poetry book out of the bookshelf. I swear I haven’t looked at it in a decade. I opened the cover and found this inside:
Not bad, huh?