Blog December 4, 2014

One of my former college roommates, Bill Massy, just visited the blog and left a comment on "Halloween Owl".   I'm busy writing poems for the Maine Poetry Society winter contests.  The poem for the subject contest must be about family.  The poem in the form contest must use ottava rima, any subject.  It will be my first ottava rima and I'm finding it difficult to rhyme 8 iambic pentameter lines ABABABCC.  Both Byron ("Don Juan" and Keats "Sailing to Byzantium") were...

Blog November 6, 2014

Over the weekend October 31-November 2 I attended a poetry retreat in Huntington, VT, sponsored by Sun Dog Poetry.  There were 10 students and 2 leaders.  We read and critiqued each others' work.  It was a rare opportunity to concentrate on nothing but poetry for 3 days, get feedback on your own work and read the interesting and exciting work others are doing.   I shared "Saying Goodbye" and "Choice" with the group and posted the latter on the blog.  "Saying Goodbye" is...

Choice

I lingered late to watch the Moon and now the Sun has found the forest floor. He casts   a playful shadow of the pasture gate across the path to gently scold and block                   my way.  This futile gesture prompts a smile and makes me wonder what’s the fuss, or need, to choose between dualities, limit        freedom and divide...

Blog October 29, 2014

The blog is now officially open which means that all those who have been invited to participate should be able to open the site and read the entries.   Please take advantage of the opportunity to make a comment.  I understand some have had their "passwords" expire.  We can issue new ones if you let us know you are having a problem.    ...

Forest Meditation

Dawn’s first bright breath ignites the tops of trees like torches.  Hiking on the trail, the sun’s insistent rays warm my back through my coat like comforting heat in winter from a campfire. I let my shadow lead the way until   I drop below the ridge where morning chill and sudden forest silence shiver me. Tall cedars, close together, stand straight, a stately august grove of Elders in rusty light. Across the path a single shaft...

Diner Blues

Janie Bella is a waitress. She’s always on her feet. Lift heavy trays, small tips, guys’ hits – at quitting time she’s beat. It’s hard to be a woman alone Dragging along a stone Shop for groceries going home.  His only welcome a grunt.   No dinner cooked or faucet fixed. She’s tired of accepting the brunt.             It’s hard to be a woman alone Putting...

It's been a good couple of weeks

It's been a good couple of weeks for recognition of my poetry. October 23, 2014.   It's been a good couple of weeks for recognition of my poetry.  On September 20th the Maine Poetry Society (MPS) awarded "The Perfect Wall" first prize in it's contest where the poem was about a wall(s).  "Diner Blues" received first honorable  mention in MPS contest to write a ballad .   On October 18th "Yellow Goat's Beard" won the 2nd place from the Mary Margaret Audette memorial...

The Perfect Wall

This dry wall was designed by a master mason. He quarried shist, and cut each stone to the inch, to fit together like a jigsaw puzzle, to make a split in-line sixty foot bench – individual stones like scales on a giant snake –...

First blog entry

This is my first post on my new blog, September 25, 2014.     an entirely new experience for me.  My bio explains why I am starting a blog.  Over the weekend of September 20th I attended the semi-annual meeting of the Maine Poets’ Society (MPS) where I entered two contests and received a prize in each one. One contest was about a subject (Fences) with no restriction on form.  The other was a ballad contest with no restriction on subject.  “The Perfect...

It Depends

The second mowing, tedded, bailed, removed. The field left skinned and barren, desert like, as autumn winds blow over ancient farm  machinery scattered randomly across the meadow like the bones of dinosaurs. I wonder, will they come to life next spring in time to lime or will the timeless grass grow up around limp tires and fading paint? It depends. Will aging farmers rise from winter’s repose to mow once more, mend the snow bent fence and aid the laboring ewe, force their aching joints...