Tag: books

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House of Straw

Pam Bonaguide <p> straw, old cedar shakes, Pal Tiya, wood, paint, wire, glue, string </p><p> $5,900 Inquiries: artonthetrails@gmail.com </p><p> You stand in front of a small straw house, about six by seven feet and ten feet tall, built on a simple wooden frame. Straw fills the walls, held in place by metal screen, while the roof is covered with old cedar shakes. As summer unfolds, the straw shifts in color, fading in sun and darkening in rain. Like the house in the nursery rhyme, it isn’t meant to last. The piece reflects Time in the Landscape, marking change as it slowly weathers and becomes more a part of its surroundings, shaped by season, memory, and the natural world.</p>

House of Straw

a house for today

out of the wind’s and rain’s way

for pig or for wolf

characters seeking shelter

we all need our own safe space

I enjoy writing poetry using art as inspiration, and that’s what Art on the Trails invited poets to do for their 10th Annual event in Southborough, Massachusetts. I read about the process and learned that once the artists were selected and their works installed along the trail, organizers invited poets to write ekphrastic poems inspired by the art, and then a poetry juror and the artist would select two poems for each piece of artwork to be published in this year’s chapbook.

That’s the sort of writing that makes me happy, so I decided to accept the invitation. I scrolled through the works of art and selected four that were particularly inspiring. The House of Straw took me back to my favorite childhood storybook days, and The Three Little Pigs came to mind, of course. I wrote a tanka with a variation of a borrowed line from Padraic Colum’s “An Old Woman of the Roads” in response to Pam Bonaguide’s work House of Straw as part of this year’s Time in the Landscape theme. 

You can hear the audio clip of my poem here:

This is one of four poems that I submitted for the works of art along the trail, but this one was not selected for publication. I’ll share the poem that the artist and poetry juror selected on Sunday, when the gathering of artists and poets will happen beside each work of trail art in Southborough during a progressive trail walk. Though I will not be able to be there in person for the closing event this year, I’m celebrating in spirit as the week leads up to the closing event on Sunday.

For today, may we all know our own safe spaces. As I see it, there are no safer spaces than the pages of books …..and nature trails with art, poetry, and fireflies.

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The Bean

The Bean in Eastman,

Georgia: perfect spot to write

a forthcoming book

Here’s a secret I’ve been holding back: Dad left an unfinished manuscript, and it looks like it’s going to make it to print. For years, he’d been telling folks that he was working on a book. He shared snippets here and there of the plot line and the general story, rooted in the setting of a second home he and Mom owned along the Sapelo River down in McIntosh County.

At his funeral and visitation services in June 2025, many people asked what would become of the book. My brother and I searched his computer and found a few threads of story ideas for this book, but nothing more than a few scattered breadcrumbs. And then our good family friend Nick Doster, the last person to sit with Dad before he died and who brought him the Braves cap he’s buried in, produced an outline with story notes.

More like a piece of bread than a breadcrumb. But still far short of a loaf. Then, Nick offered to work with me to finish the book….which, really, felt more like starting the book by sowing the seeds of ideas and hundreds of tiny quilt squares together to see where the patterns emerged. Like me, Nick is always reading and writing. His most recent book is a western, and he has been talking with the screenwriters about a screenplay, which has consumed a lot of his time lately. Getting to retirement has consumed a lot of mine. So for about six months now, we’ve been working here and there, chatting on weekends and plugging in August as the time we’d get together to do our first productive round of editing of the whole manuscript.

The Bean in Eastman, Georgia was the halfway point for both of us, so we picked a day and met there. We took over the coffee shop and the free wifi yesterday to chisel away a few more steps toward the finish line. We’re still far from finished, but the fun of writing is another part of retirement that makes me happy. These large chunks of time to be able to write and think and edit are a great way to spend a day.

Today? A little more editing, a search for more comfortable swivel stools with backs for the Mahjongg table, a morning walk on the treadmill before it’s too hot, and a great movie my aunt recommended on Netflix for later this afternoon: Arthur the King. I’m so glad I didn’t wait to retire – – what a blessing to have the gift of time to spend the days doing what we love!

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Kindred Spirits Book Club

Book Club T-shirts

Once a month, our Kindred Spirits book club meets at our local coffee shop on the Zebulon, Georgia courthouse square to discuss our monthly pick. Last year, we chose our next book month by month when we met to discuss the current book. This year, we each brought two book choices and created a schedule for the year so that we could read ahead if we finished our book ahead of time.

We are a group of six colleagues who became reading sisters through shared interest and choice, and even though two of us have retired and one has taken a position in a different place of employment, we still come back together to read, discuss, and have adventures together.

We discuss reading guide questions, but we always ask what the book inspired us to do and how it changed our lives. Generally, there is some kind of adventure that follows – whether it is to see the movie or do some kind of activity mentioned in the book. For example, after reading The Book Club Hotel by Sarah Morgan last December, we decided to take our own girls’ winter getaway and will be doing that in January 2027 to a place a couple hours north of where we live, where there will be a big fireplace so we can lounge around sipping coffee or Kindred Spirits cocoa concoctions and have girl time in our pajamas and talk about books and life and go shopping. We haven’t named our book-related adventure for Dear Debbie yet, but we all decided that it will not involve infesting anyone’s rose garden with Japanese Beetles or using poppy seeds to impair anyone’s faculties. Nor will it involve visiting any fraternity houses.

If any readers have suggestions about what to consider reading for 2027, please share! We follow Goodreads and The Book Girls and are always looking for our next great read.

We were missing one of our sisters at last night’s club meeting at our local coffee shop

reading together

strengthens our sisterly bond

of Kindred Spirits

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August Open Write Day 2 of 3

Patricia Franz, our host today for the second day of the August 2026 Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com, lives with her husband and her Bernese Mountain dog, splitting her time between the Arizona desert and California’s Sierra Nevada mountains. She continues the nature theme in our poetry prompts today. Like yesterday’s host Denise Krebs, she has two poems in  Picture Perfect Poetry: An Anthology of Ekphrastic Nature Poetry for Students, the inspiration for yesterday’s and today’s prompts. You can find more of her poetry at www.patriciajfranz.com.

You can hop over to the site to read the exact prompt and see the pictures, but Patricia inspires us to write a nature poem today with this story: Two years ago, she snapped a photo of a mama bear. Over the course of a few days, she had begun to forage closer and closer to Patricia’s house. Then one morning as dawn broke, she awoke to find her and her two cubs rummaging through the kitchen! She wondered what the bear would say if it could speak, inspiring writers to consider various perspective and viewpoints as we write our poems today.

My mind tumbled for a while over these possibilities, and I almost always go to the kitchen table and all the spiritual ancestors who surely still lurk in moments allowed by Heaven. But we’d recently had something happen that offered a different perspective too. In the late summer evenings, the sun hits the kitchen wall with an orange glow, beckoning us out to the back porch to gaze in awe at its glorious swan dive beneath the trees on the far back side of the farm. We hadn’t anticipated the tangerine glow one evening last week after all the afternoon storms, but sure enough – it appeared, and we stepped out to take it all in. After a few moments, I noticed the hummingbird feeder needed refilling, so I grabbed the nectar and gave it a pour. Then we wondered about the feeders out front, so we went to check those too.

As I was unhooking a feeder, my husband whispered, “Come look at this.” A double rainbow stretched from the north side of the farm all the way across the south side. The hummers would have to wait – – I put it all down and ran for my phone to take photos! By the time I returned, the top bow had dissolved, but I managed to capture a photo of the full stretch of the bottom bow. Every time I think about rainbows, I think about Noah and the Great Flood. There are two trees left in the front yard after the harvesting of timber in 2025, and they struck me like Noah and his wife looking out over the land after the floodwaters dissipated. That’s what inspired today’s poem. I chose a nonet form, which begins with 9 syllables and decreases by one syllable on each line.

Standing in the Promise

a double rainbow, top bow dissolved

two trees stand: Noah and his wife

arm in arm, knowing their faith

brings hope for tomorrow

I look at those trees

wonder whether

the dove still

returns

leaves

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On the Day I Was Born – July 8

During the last week of June, I had the amazing privilege of traveling to Portland, Oregon to visit the archives of the poet William Stafford at Lewis and Clark College as part of The Stafford Challenge Poetry Conference. I learned that people often ask to see the actual hand-written notes and poems that he wrote on the day they were born, and so I did the same.

Archive Haiku

William Stafford:

I visited his archives …

my birthdate writing:


Here is my best transcription of this page from his handwritten notes on the yellow pages in the photos that follow, below.

8 July

We thought leaves waited, without
winds. But their work flourished, then.
Lost as leaves are, in the fall, each
has all its guarantee: sun, air wind.
I take the fall.

Maybe someone found all this language
the world brings. Not a snake but a stream
through the air, or maybe little waves
nothing holds — anyone in this town fear
news the ants work on? News peeled off
the yellow car that left here this morning; news
trotted among sounds, under the bridge. I felt
the snake across my feet in the bus. And watched
the conductor act calm, as required by the state.
The fox I stole gnawed : inside my coat. Men
act so free: “No fox I stole has ever bitten
me.”

Forsaken liberal, I stamped the curb:
every cause I ever found

has had my vote. Now the animals
prefer their keepers to the kept or freed.


8 July 1966

Seasons mark the brain: a shaft
of spring has always hurt what winter
held. I see beyond the plate and
feel the foxes well. No angel, no
prophet rides with me, but animals.
Keepers are enough too and they live well;
To feed that fox I commit to walk through hell.

every day
Lizards and liberals both low and

adaptable, come back to their holes and love it there.

Such great song scared the birds;

they tiptoe – winged away

Pascal fell through a million windows,
a little kid too smart to be saved by
stupidity.

Though the handwriting is challenging to decipher and does leave some questions, I hang on the first two lines:

We thought leaves waited, without
winds. But their work flourished, then.

Yes, these periods of waiting often seem frustrating, challenging, and even pointless at times. Some days we feel we are merely holding on. But we wait, knowing our work is flourishing. Knowing that the best is yet to come.

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Watercolor Haiku: Bird of Paradise

When I first bought my watercolor book of step-by-step directions on a side-by-side guide, I thumbed through the pages and wondered why they had chosen such obscure flowers. There wasn’t a rose or a daisy anywhere, yet there was a cactus and sea holly. And this bird of paradise.

And then, as I started working through the book, I realized that each painting teaches a different technique. The cactus and sea holly teach tiny little lines that look like thistle needles. The cactus pot teaches shadows in gradient colors. This bird of paradise, while I don’t love it, teaches the effects of wet-on-wet painting and how colors blend when water is used to move the paint around in an area.

I think the teacher in me needed the instructional framework spelled out, starting with the learning target, including an objective, and success criteria in little boxes to check if I accomplished it all. This is one of those examples that shows that process is more important than product – because the blending of color here in a first attempt carries into other flowers that have blending involved.

I don’t like this painting at all. But I appreciate it, because it gave me practice to be able to blend color in a hydrangea that I do like. And this is how watercolor painting is teaching me that life is like that, too. We learn skills in small attempts that transfer into other areas. Take the Karate Kid, for example. He learned Wax On/Wax Off and Sand the Floor and thought he was being used as a free worker. All along, he was preparing for that fight at the end of the movie that helped him put that blond-headed bully in an agonizing face plant down on the mat.

Looking back at the new learning gives me the reassurance that old dogs CAN learn new tricks. And even better: they can teach themselves if they can read and follow directions.

Bird of Paradise

flying just above my reach

soaring into sky

in a simple vase ~

an understated glass jar

in an upstairs loft

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Watercolor Welcome: Lemon

Confession time. I was trying my best to wait to read the book I chose to read for Sally Donnelly’s Summer Reading Club, 44 Poems on Being With Each Other by Padraig O’Tuama, but I have not been successful at all. A new book of poetry, for me, is a lot like that bag of M&Ms I try to hide from myself but that won’t quit calling my name until I give in and devour the whole thing. Forbidden M&Ms are like words of poetry – – I can’t quit until the last word in the bag is gone.

And so I have read, savored, pondered, written, and I haven’t gained all the pounds of the chocolate, but I’ve consumed all the delicious indulgence of the page. There’s no sense in feeling the guilt of reading the whole thing early ~ I read it and my clothes still fit, so I’ll celebrate the power of poetry to bring joy and inspire new writing.

I’ve been watercolor painting on weekends, and I decided to take Wendy Cope’s classic poem The Orange on page 224 in the book and allow it to inspire a poem and painting of a lemon, using Cope’s same iambic beat and stanza form. Already, I’m wondering what each poem in this book can inspire in art forms: photography, collage, jewelry design, mosaic, and a million other creative possibilities. I am re-reading already. A huge thanks to Sally Donnelly for inviting us to be part of a kindred gathering of readers.

The Lemon

while camping, I painted a lemon

its colors all citrus-y yellow

curious campers came calling

waving and smiling warm hellos

and that lemon, it brought conversations

of campfires and families and fun

once strangers, now neighbors chit-chatting

on sunshine-y site 301

the “ap-peel” was really surprising

my painting was not all that zesty

but colorful palettes paint friendships

I love my new lemon-y besties

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Sally Donnelly’s Book Club and Watercolor Haiku Weekends: Potted Cactus

I’m already dreaming of a summer of reading and all the books on my TBR list – – and I will begin with a collection of poetry. Sally Donnelly, a long-time writing buddy from Two Writing Teachers whom I’ve had the pleasure of meeting on more than one occasion in person at the National Council of Teachers of English Convention, is hosting a Summer Reading Club. You can check out her invitation to participate and her directions to her Padlet here, introducing her selections Dictionary for a Better World by Irene Latham and Charles Waters, and 44 Poems on Being with Each Other, an anthology curated by Padraig O’Tuama. I have had the opportunity of deeply engaging in Dictionary for a Better World a few years ago, so on Wednesday of last week while I was in Atlanta on a personal day to see the musical Six, I treated myself to the guilty pleasure of leisurely browsing a bookstore, where I picked up a copy of 44 Poems on Being With Each Other.

Yesterday, Wildflower Watercolor Week started, and I’m taking a class online to learn more about watercolor techniques. After March bloggers at Slice of Life shared their love of Emily Lex watercolor books when Leigh Anne Eck asked what everyone would bring to a party where technology was not allowed, it brought back memories of strolling through Woodstock, Vermont and seeing one of those themed watercolor books after NCTE was held in Boston a couple of years ago. Slicers resurrected that memory with their love of watercolor books. I picked up an off-brand at Hobby Lobby and shared a couple of my paintings with Glenda Funk, who then found a watercolor class on Facebook and encouraged me to sign up. So I did, and I look forward to learning new techniques from a real person, not a step-by-step book. On weekends throughout March, (and today) as we travel here and there, I’ll be painting and sharing Haiku Watercolors – the semi-good, the bad, and the ugly.

Here’s one of my daughters’ favorites, along with a haiku that mentions one of my favorite poetry collections I’ve read lately: Instructions for Traveling West by Joy Sullivan.

Cactus Coddiwomple

I read about you ~

Instructions for Traveling

West ~ Take me with you!

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A May Cento: Lucille Clifton

After an unseasonably chilly weekend with some misty drizzle and some sunshine while we were out gallivanting in Indian Springs State Park in Flovilla, Georgia and having shrimp and gouda grits at Yahola Creek for the Kentucky Derby party, we are back to the weekday work routine of a mundane Monday. I can’t help considering the similarities of the Derby for a horse to the impending retirement of everyday people everywhere, looking forward to grazing in the green pasture without running the race in all the trained and prescribed ways of riders jockeying them into position, running the never-ending course to finish first in their own Golden Tempo.

I was thrilled to see history made Saturday with the first female trainer of a Kentucky Derby winner wearing the color of the day – the hope for the run for the roses of red – as she tearfully approached the ring and took her place in the annals of time, celebrating her moment as the hearts of all women everywhere cheered her from the stands and living rooms throughout this great country and all around the world. Ada Limon’s famous poem How to Triumph Like a Girl is not lost on a day like this, the poem itself inspired by the running of the horses when the poet lived in Kentucky.

Ears up, girls, ears up! – Ada Limon

And for today, here is another favorite female poet – Lucille Clifton – whose poetry I’ve used to create a cento like those I wrote in March, using a line from different poems to form an entirely new one.

Wild Country

live where you can

be the one that understands

it is home and you know it

but listen

it is wild country here

there will be no peace

listening for the bang of the end

Taken from poems in this order: eyes; defending my tongue; ways you are not like Oedipus; to my friend, Jerina; eve thinking; lucifer understanding at last; the beginning of the end of the world

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VerseLove Day 28: Instructions

Our host, Jessica, lives in Chicago, Illinois where she teaches English. She is currently a teacher-consultant with the Chicago Area Writing Project.

Jessica offers these words of inspiration: “This winter, I was fortunate to see the Yoko Ono: Music of the Mind exhibit at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Chicago. ” She was inspired by the lyrics of Grapefruit, in which a poem takes the form of instructions. Today, she inspires us to write poems on how to do something. You can read her full prompt here.

Lately, I’ve returned to the interlibrary loan system I used when I was in college to get books I want to read in my rural county in middle Georgia. I log in to my account, search the shelves across all the state libraries, and place holds on the ones I want in hard copy with my Pines System Library card. One simple click brings them across the miles to me – for free – where I pick them up and return them right across the street when I’m finished. It’s a frugal way to read anytime, but especially with retirement and a more limited budget as the next chapter. Also, our library offers free state park and zoo passes and theater tickets. If I want to listen, I can log in to Libby and get audiobooks too. This is the way to live, laugh, and read.

Librarian scanning books while woman shows library card at checkout desk
A librarian helps a smiling patron check out books at the library counter.

How To Enter The Next Chapter

get a library

card ~ reserve your books online

check out locally