I know how the memoir will read, it will be filled with humorous stories that make the reader laugh out loud, and ones that make the reader’s breath catch and tears well, and ones that make the reader cheer, and want to visit our new farm. It cannot be written yet. Next year with full intention…
Category: Poetry
National Poetry Month (poetry contest and win one of my books!)
April is National Poetry Month. I have always been pulled in by rhyming sounds, expressions in A-B-A-B form, and with eloquent words. How a Maya Angelo poem can break your heart or a Robert Frost can transport you to another time. Into Emily Dickinson’s world and nod knowingly at one of Mary Oliver’s beautiful notes. …
Snowfall
Across shallows and brooks the snow falls driftlessly down laying thickly over pines and rooftops in town. Winter softens into spring but today her cold gaze diligently waters the ground, a frozen blanket lays. A perk for bulbs who will hobble forth quench the thirst of trees and the new growth the bitter cold will not wane Oh,…
Happy Birthday to the Farmer of My Dreams
There was a man who stole my heart for awhile we were rarely apart. He can easily milk goats on the kittens he dotes can catch a chicken in the road chase sheep as the rooster crowed chopped the wood and moved the hay “Well have it again!” he likes to say. Cuddled into his…
The Gratitude Journal and Poem a Day
Can an anti-depressant and anti-anxiety cure be found in a journal? $280 to apply for an apartment. Run down trailers for rent for $1500. The 10,000 people coming to Colorado every month for tech jobs and weed are making us Coloradoans struggle to live here. It is easy to get overwhelmed and stressed about…
Christmas Dreaming
As winter snow danced lightly down, the moon still held her luminous crown and watched as each child in town went to sleep softly in the night. Dreams of Santa filled their minds as they looked at moon’s generous light and so wondered if they would see his reindeer cross her face in flight. Warm with…
To Thine Own Self Be True (a recognition of oneself when starting over)
I am Yeopim Indian and Cherokee proud, and Scottish and English and Irish loud, along with Dutch and Black French and possibly more. And from them all my genetic disposition lays. In my hair, in my eyes, in my innate knowledge and intuition, in my sense of adventure and in my search for home do…
Walking at Dawn
The hummingbirds flit around my hair on their way to sweetened nectar their ringing sounds of bells in the early morning air. The dawn shines clear and hopeful brushing pink in its palette spread across the landscape fair. I walk across heavy laden needles and cacti, up steep inclines of bindweed and pine cones, through underbrush that…
Ebb and Flow of Farm Life
The ebb and flow, the life and death, the frequency changes and seasons all so crisply clear when one lives on a farm. The ducklings do not fail to bring smiles. Frolicking in their playpen in a casserole dish turned pond. The farm dog lays under freshly mounded soil by the empty bee hive. Bumble…
The Inspired Writer/Farmer’s Farmhouse (perhaps it’s time to do the dishes)
This is an excusive look inside a farmhouse whose occupants have been busy with shows promoting their farm, fluffy farm animals, and writing books. I warn you, these written images are not for the meek. There are cat boogies in my hair the lamb just peed under the chair the dining table is filled with…
Farmgirl School 