Tag Archives: poetry

Poetry Friday ~ #Etheree #Poetry

5 Feb

Hi, everyone! A warm welcome to my blog.

It’s the first of the month and that means we choose our own syllabic poetry form, theme, words, images, etc. for Colleen Chesebro Poetry Prompt Challenge!

This video brought tears to my eyes. What a brilliant collaboration! I loved the poem these children created together. It’s filled with so much hope and love. They inspired my Etheree this week.

A virtual hug can’t replace your warmth

And “i-contact” is not eye contact

We’re forced to live differently

Animals venture further

while the streets are empty

We stay in our homes

And the skies clear

Birds sing songs

Nature

speaks

Photo by Karina Vorozheeva (@_k_arin Unsplash)

I hope you enjoyed today’s video and poem. Have a happy day!

Poetry Friday ~ Image Prompt

18 Dec

Hi, everyone! I hope you’re all safe and healthy.

It’s the third week of the month! Time for an Ekphrastic #PhotoPrompt. Colleen Chesebro from Colleen’s Weekly Poetry Prompt Challenge chose the beautiful watercolor art piece below.

Artwork by Barbara A. Lane (Pixabay)

When I saw this watercolor I immediately thought about dreams. You know, I thought by now someone would have invented a device that could record our dreams. Many of my short stories were inspired by my many bizarre dreams, so it would be a handy tool for me. I hope you enjoy my Etheree.

What are dreams if not our wishes and fears
sheer colors slowly spreading on the
canvas of our dormant minds
forming watercolor shapes
delightful and fearsome
sometimes inspiring
us to jump out
of   bed  and
write, write
write  

Thank you for stopping by. I always appreciate your visits and comments. Also, remember you can pre-order The Rise of Gadreel for only 0.99¢!

I wish everyone a merry Christmas Eve and Christmas! Don’t forget to look to the sky on 12/21/20 to see the Christmas Star! The best time to see it is about an hour after your local sunset time. I hope it’s a clear night for all of us.

Poetry Friday ~ Christmas in Florida

4 Dec
Photo by Lynda Hinton (@lyndaann1975 – Unsplash)

Hello, everyone! Happy Holidays and a warm welcome to my blog!

I live in south Florida and Christmas traditions are a little different down here. We don’t have snow, so we can’t build a snowman, but we can build one made of sand. There’s no sledding or skiing, but we do have surfing Santas and boats decked out in Christmas lights and decorations. We also have Winterfest, a town named Christmas, Disney World and much more. I found this poem about Christmas in Florida and thought I should share it. I hope you enjoy it.

T’was the night before Christmas, and all through the town,
No noses were frozen, nor snow on the ground.

No children in flannels were tucked into bed,
They all wore their shorty pajamas instead.

To find wreaths of holly was not very hard,
For holly trees sprouted in every backyard.

In front of the houses were daddies and moms,
Decorating hibiscus and coconut palms.

The slumbering kiddies were dreaming with glee,
Hoping to find surf boards under the tree.

They all knew that Santa was well on his way,
In a fiberglass boat instead of a sleigh.

He whizzed up the rivers, zoomed up the canals,
Delivering toys to good boys and gals.

The tropical moon gave the cities a glow,
And lit the way for Santa below.

Quite soon he arrived and started to work,
He hadn’t a second to linger or shirk.

He jumped from his boat and gave a wee chuckle,
He was dressed in deck pants, with an ivy league buckle.

There weren’t any chimneys, but that caused no gloom,
For Santa came in through the Florida room.

He stopped at each house but stayed only a minute,
As he emptied his sack of the toys that were in it.

Before he departed he had a long drink,
From the glass of fresh orange juice left by the sink.

He turned with a jerk and jumped into his boat,
Knowing that he still had more toys to tote.

He put it in gear and he opened the gas,
Then up the Peace River he went like a flash!

And I heard him exclaim as he went on his way:
“Merry Christmas, Punta Gorda, I wish I could stay ….

Photo by Lynda Hinton

Take care and stay safe and healthy!

Poetry Friday ~ Photo Prompt

20 Nov

It’s the third week of the month! Time for Colleen’s Poetry Challenge‘s Ekphrastic Photo Prompt!

This challenge explores Ekphrastic writing inspired by visual art (photographs). Diana Peach from last month’s challenge has provided the photo for this month’s challenge.

The Saddest Leave The Least Of Clues

Depression sneaks up when least expected

What you once had seems far above you

as you spiral into darkness

sapping your life of meaning

but you smile all the time

though you’re rarely fine

You leave no clues

Depression

is like

cancer

“Real depression is when you stop loving the things you love.”

Atticus

When I saw the image chosen by Author, D. Wallace Peach it reminded me of a beautiful soul who couldn’t see her ethereal beauty in the water because she was shrouded by the darkness of depression. I have several loved ones who suffer from depression. This poem is dedicated to them and to anyone else who is struggling with this disease. What a lot of people don’t understand is that there are two types of depression. Feeling extremely sad when you lose a loved one, a pet, or when you lose your job or go through a divorce is perfectly normal. People expect you to suffer some level of depression when you experience something terrible. Being diagnosed with clinical depression is an entirely different thing. This is an illness that stems from there being a chemical imbalance in your brain. When depression hits it does so without warning, and it comes with muscle aches, loss of focus and concentration, insomnia, overeating or loss of appetite, headaches, digestive problems, anxiety . . . . It is a disease like diabetes, lupus, COPD, Alzheimer’s or cancer. Whenever I get a chance, I try to create awareness because there’s a stigma attached to this disease and there shouldn’t be.

Click on image to read an excerpt from my upcoming book, The Rise of Gadreel.

Poetry Friday ~ Photo Prompt

23 Oct
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Hello, everyone! A warm welcome to my blog.

I’m participating in Colleen’s 2020 Weekly Poetry Prompt Challenge. Today’s photo prompt was provided by Trent McDonald. I’m sharing a Haiku and Tanka.

Swans glide together

as lake mirrors the trees

a serene portrait

Photo by Belinda Fewings (@bel2000a)

Mysterious swans

enduring all the seasons

dressed in white feathers

Together for a lifetime

A beautiful, loving pair

I hope you enjoyed the poems. Thanks for stopping by!

Magical Whispers

14 Oct

Hi, everyone! I’d like you to help me welcome the lovely and talented poet, Balroop Singh . She has released a new poetry book, ‘Magical Whispers.’ I’m excited to read all about it, because I’m a fan of her work. The floor is yours, Balroop.

Thank you for hosting me, Vashti.

Book Blurb:

I wait for whispers; they regale my muse. Whispers that can be heard by our heart, whispers that ride on the breeze to dispel darkness and ignite hope. I’m sure you would hear them through these poems if you read slowly.

‘Magical Whispers’ would transport you to an island of serenity; beseech you to tread softly on the velvety carpet of nature to feel the ethereal beauty around you. The jigsaw of life would melt and merge as you dive into the warmth of words.

In this book, my poems focus on whispers of Mother Nature, whispers that are subtle but speak louder than words and breathe a quiet message.

Each day reminds us

It’s the symphony of surroundings

That whisper life into us.

Book Information:

Title: Magical Whispers

Author: Balroop Singh

Genre: Poetry

Available at: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08KJQ6K5D

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Balroop-Singh/e/B00N5QLW8U/ref=dp_byline_cont_pop_ebooks_1

Excerpt:

Sublime Sky

If you just look at the dark clouds

They may share your anguish

But they offer no solace

They drag you into deeper dumps.

If you look at the moon

It would speak to you calmly

Telling you timeless stories of change

And purge your heart of all regrets.

If you look at the sun and his hues

It would unravel stories of life

From dawn to dusk it spreads gold

And fills your heart with delight.

But I beseech you to look at the azure sky

When the sun’s amber song begins

Permeating through pink clouds

A melody that springs hope and light.

© Balroop Singh

Meet Poet and Author, Balroop Singh:

Balroop Singh, a former teacher and an educator always had a passion for writing.  She is a poet, a creative non-fiction writer, a relaxed blogger and a doting grandma. She writes about people, emotions and relationships. Her poetry highlights the fact that happiness is not a destination but a chasm to bury agony, anguish, grief, distress and move on! No sea of solitude is so deep that it can drown us. Sometimes aspirations are trampled upon, the boulders of exploitation and discrimination may block your path but those who tread on undeterred are always successful.

When turbulences hit, when shadows of life darken, when they come like unseen robbers, with muffled exterior, when they threaten to shatter your dreams, it is better to break free rather than get sucked by the vortex of emotions.

A self-published author, she is the poet of Sublime Shadows of Life and Emerging From Shadows, both widely acclaimed poetry books. She has also written When Success Eludes,Emotional Truths Of Relationships Read FREE with Kindle Unlimitedand Allow Yourself to be a Better Person.

Balroop Singh has always lived through her heart. She is a great nature lover; she loves to watch birds flying home. The sunsets allure her with their varied hues that they lend to the sky. She can spend endless hours listening to the rustling leaves and the sound of waterfalls. The moonlight streaming through her garden, the flowers, the meadows, the butterflies cast a spell on her. She lives in San Ramon, California.

Visit her blog: http://balroop2013.wordpress.com

Connecting linkshttps://twitter.com/BalroopShado

Thank you for visiting today. I hope you enjoyed the post. Please show my guest author some love in the comment section below.

Poetry Friday ~ Poet’s Choice

9 Oct
Photo by Joanna Kosinska

Welcome, everyone! This week is ‘Poet’s Choice’ on Colleen’s 2020 Weekly Poetry Challenge. Poets can choose their own syllabic poetry form, theme, words, images, etc. I’ve chosen to share a witchy Etheree poem and a couple of quotes today.

“Isn’t it odd how much fatter a book gets when you’ve read it several times? As if something were left between the pages every time you read it. Feelings, thoughts, sounds, smells and then, when you look at the book again many years later, you find yourself there too, a slightly younger self, slightly different, as if the book had preserved you like a pressed flower, both strange and familiar.”

Resurrection

She had a mother that didn’t love her

that lied to her about her true worth

that singe her eyebrows with her sneers

taught her nothing of true love

so she dreamt of evil

writing purged the gloom

books gave her joy

nature taught

her to

love

“Do not let anyone tell you the next few months won’t be crazy. We have two full moons in October. An Eclipse in November. An Eclipse in December, and we close the year with a full moon December 29, 2020. This is wild card energy.”

Thank you for stopping by! I hope you liked the post. Enjoy the rest of the day!

Poetry Friday ~ Photo Prompt

21 Aug

Hi, everyone! Welcome to my blog.

It’s the third week of the month! Time for a #PhotoPrompt

Aishwarya, aka, Kitty from Kitty’s Verses, was Colleen’s selection from last month’s challenge. She has provided the photo for this month’s challenge. Remember, don’t just describe what is in the photo. Engage your senses and work with implied metaphors to make your poetry sing!

It’s been a while since I’ve ridden on a train. I rode the trains to school in NYC. It was boring and scary at times.

Fun, adventure and excitement comes to mind when I gaze at the prompt picture, though. There’s something about those tracks leading to infiniti that depict freedom. My imagination goes wild.

The train gets underway, whistling off its baratone warning. Slow it begins, then picks up speed until tons of steel on wheels skim the tracks faster than fairies and witches, on its way to some magic land. Anything in this iron behemoth’s path should stand clear because it doesn’t mean to slow until it’s near.

Take a long rail trip

There’s nothing like the rhythm

of a train journey

slow to start then pick up speed

much like life’s tempo on tracks

Photograph by Denis Chick

Thank you for stopping by! I hope you enjoyed the post. If you’d like to participate in Colleen’s 2020 Weekly Poetry Challenge click here. It’s a lot of fun.

Poetry Friday ~ Unrequited Love <3

14 Aug

Hello, everyone! Welcome.

Here are the words from Colleen’s Weekly Poetry Challenge:

“Circled and Squared”

I almost tossed in the towel when I saw the two prompt words for the week. What was I supposed to do with that? I thought. But in the end, I decided to give it a try. I’ve been hard at work with the blurb, cover and formatting for my upcoming book, The Rise of Gadreel. Please forgive me for not being consistant with my Friday posts the last few weeks. My Etheree poem was inspired by the second book in my Fantasy Angels Series, Son of the Serpent. I’ve also included an excerpt from that book. I hope you enjoy it.

Photograph by Mateus Campos Felipe @matfelipe

Unrequited Love

I fell in love with a beautiful mind

thoughts of him spiral out of control

as I crave what I cannot have

He entered my life and made

everything better

I can’t regret him

or corrupt him

he’s married

to the

church

Photograph by James Coleman @jhc

Dracúl came across a young girl named Miriam while searching the streets of Egypt for a place to rest for the night. She informed him that the pharaoh ordered every Israeli male child not yet walking be thrown into the Nile River for the crocodiles, and she feared for her newborn brother’s life. Here’s an excerpt in Dracúl’s voice from Son of the Serpent.

Gadreel and I left the waterfall and made our way to the street where I met Miriam. I found the house she disappeared into and knocked. 

      The door creaked open and a man stood before us. “Yes, how may I help you?”

      “We seek answers,” I said, bowing my head out of respect. “A girl named Miriam stated that we could get answers from her father, Amram.” 

      “I am Amram,” he said, creasing his brow. “You say you know my daughter, Miriam?”

      “We met once. She told me of a terrible decree ordered by the pharaoh. I have many questions. You could provide me with the answers I seek.” I glanced at Gadreel. She stared at the ground, and I returned my gaze to him.

      “Come in,” he said.

      I did not hesitate to do so. His home was humble but clean and cozy. The fragrances of incense and fresh bread wafted through the air. They did not have much but offered everything they had. Miriam came out of one of the rooms and helped serve food and drink to Gadreel and me. 

      “Why are Egyptian soldiers killing the innocent?” I asked once the meal was finished. 

      “Three months ago, a witch who passes herself off as an astrologer claimed that a liberator, a male child of Israel, was to be born. She told the pharaoh that this liberator would grow to be more powerful than any pharaoh of Egypt.” Amram’s face flushed as he gave us his account of the happenings.

      “Witch? Does this witch have a name?” Gadreel touched my arm and scowled at me. “Apologies. Please continue,” I said as heat bloomed in my face.

      “The pharaoh decided to end the threat by getting rid of the liberator while he was still a babe, so he ordered every male child that cannot yet walk be killed. My son was born three months ago, on the very day the witch predicted the liberator would be born. We believe our son is the liberator of Israel, for a radiant light filled our house when he entered this world.”

      Gadreel gasped, placing her hand over mine.

      “We have concealed him for three months, but it is becoming impossible to do so any longer,” Amram said as he wrung his hands, staring at us like we were his last hope.

      A woman approached and set a basket made of papyrus on the table. “My name is Jochebed. I am Amram’s wife and mother to Aaron and Miriam, and this is my newborn son.” She extended her hand toward the basket.

      Gadreel and I rose from our seats and looked into the basket. My eyes were fixed on the infant. He was the most beautiful baby I had ever seen. I was mesmerized.

      “He is special.” My words were barely audible.

      “We must do something,” Gadreel said, standing on her toes as she gazed at the infant.

      “I can help your son, but you must trust me,” I told Jochebed and Amram.

      They glanced at each other and then Amram spoke to me. “I knew God had sent you the moment I opened the door and saw your face.” He nodded once, and I picked up the basket with the babe inside.

      “Is the basket impermeable?” I asked. “Will it float?” 

      “Yes, I weaved the papyrus reeds tightly,” Jochebed said.

      “Very well.” The babe, he smiled at me the way only one pure of heart could. “I will take your son to safety. Say your goodbyes.”

      The family came forth, kissed and caressed the child, and said their farewells.

      Gadreel and I made our way to the door with the infant.

      “I will go with you!” Miriam said, hurrying to us. “Please. Let me come with you. I want to see where my brother’s fate leads you.”

      I faced Amram. “It will be a dangerous undertaking. If we are caught with the child, they will try to kill us.”

      Miriam turned to her father, her face wet with tears of desperation and sorrow. “Please father! I implore you. Allow me to go with them.”

      Amram frowned and waved her to go. She grabbed my arm, pushing me forward and out the door, perhaps afraid her father would change his mind.

      We rushed through the streets. The babe fell asleep and remained silent. He looked comfortable, wrapped in soft cloths.

      “The witch they spoke of––it must be Lilith,” Gadreel whispered.

      “It is she. I am sure of it,” I said, moving quickly while scanning my surroundings. “I do not know what makes me so certain, but I am. I will save this child, and then I will deal with her.”

      As we reached the bank of the Nile we stopped to look out to the water. Gadreel gasped, slapping a hand over her mouth, stifling screams. Miriam was shrieking so Gadreel rushed to her side, holding her tight as the girl sobbed on her chest. I stood frozen by a sight so astonishing in its level of horror that I had to bite my lower lip hard enough to draw blood to be certain I was not having a nightmare. A myriad of dead and mangled babies floated downstream on the Nile. 

Son of the Serpent is a High/Supernatural Fantasy sprinkled with Horror and Romance for an 18+ audience. Get your copy and give this book a try. It may surprise you.

Poetry Friday ~ Trees

31 Jul
Photo by Faye Cornish

Hi, everyone! A warm welcome to my blog.

It’s the fourth week of July! Are you ready for a theme prompt? Sue Vincent selected the theme this week with a quote prompt:

“Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth.” Herman Hesse

Methuselah – The oldest tree in the world

What a beautiful quote chosen by Sue Vincent to challenge us this week. I love nature and that of course, includes trees. Methuselah is one of the world’s oldest living organism. This tree has been alive for approx. 4,789 years and still counting! Consider all the changes the world has gone through in that amount of time and yet, this tree is still standing. Methuselah lives on a isolated mountain top in California (USA). I’d love to be in her presence someday.

METHUSELAH

On a desolate mountain top you breathe

Teaching us lessons of survival

Gnarled and twisted you stand your ground

The Earth’s oldest living thing

For four millennia

You’ve observed the world

Your endurance

Your spirit

Inspires

Awe

Photo by Jeremy Bishop

I hope everyone enjoyed the post. Have a lovely Friday and weekend! ❤