Tag: hope

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Watercolor Haiku: Passion Flower

Here we are : the last day of the whole school year. Students graduated a week ago, and teachers leave mid-day today for the summer. Those of us at Central Office watch them wave, disguising our bit of green envy as they head out on cruises and vacations to mountains, beaches, and swimming pools. I’m holding on tight for the summer ride, just trying to get through mid-June and then two weeks at the end of July.

For over a week, we’ve been working on planning a work retreat that seems ever-evolving and unfinished, and I don’t know how things will go. When I looked back at Spring Break and thought back to those early attempts at watercolor painting sitting at that picnic table, just focusing on one petal at a time., I realized that this is good advice for any day. One petal at a time. I thought of the hope of the passion flower. I’m claiming it today as teachers leave for summer and we are left to carry on with work. And each day is one day closer to retirement.

For today, here’s a flower that represents HOPE.

It’s what we all need.

Passionate Plea

I hear you stand for

hope in everlasting life

but how ’bout today?

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Verse Love Day 10 : Villanelle Vibes ~ Georgia State Parks

Susan Ahlbrand of Indiana is our host today for Day 10 of Verselove at http://www.ethicalela, com, and she inspires us to write love letters to a place we love. She challenged us to try a villanelle, a 19-line poem of five tercets and a quatrain with a rhyme scheme and refrain sequence. As I sit on the campsite of a Georgia State Park recharging my batteries this week, I could not think of a more fitting place to pay tribute.

Villanelle Tribute to Georgia State Parks

out in the woods on a state park campsite

nestled in shade by meandering creek

Pollock-splashed beams of breeze-filtered sunlight

shelter from life’s woes, respite from plight

renewal blooms hope when refuge we seek

out in the wild on a state park campsite

Swallowtails air-dance on blackened blue-brights

welcoming wings, meditative mystique

sashaying rays of oak-splattered sunlight

flame-flickered campfires on stargazing nights

embers leap up to kiss Pegasus’ cheek

out in the wild on a state park campsite

mosaic edges softened by twilight

for life’s jagged junctures, outdoors re-key

shadowy brushstrokes, dusk-darkened moonlight

birdsong awakens, euphoric daylight

new trails to hike, fresh air to seize

out in the woods on a state park campsite

canvassing nature, the soul re-ignites

In honor of National Poem In My Pocket Day…..

I have a poem in my pocket

a perfect way to start

hummer at my feeder

hope restores my heart

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June 19 – The Open Write with Dr. Leilya Pitre

Dr. Leilya Pitre of Ponchatoula, Louisiana is our host for today’s Open Write. She brings us a short form, the sevenling, which you can read about here.

Foxgloves at Gibbs Gardens in Ball Ground, Georgia

Foxglove Funeral for a Grandson

Foxglove bells chime joy, bring smiles
on Mother’s Day in Georgia, painting gardens
in blush colors: the female womb blooms

Foxglove bells toll grief, stir longing
on Mother’s Day in Kentucky: a petal flips, a
cradle rocks in heaven ~ the female soul cries

empty arms mourning a baby not born

Foxglove in Kentucky, symbolizing a baby in heaven
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#VerseLove April 27

Today our host for #VerseLove is Chea of Texas, who inspires us to write poetry with regional dialect ~ to tell something as it really happened, in our home language. You can read her prompt and the poetry of others here. I’m sharing a phone conversation with my dad one early morning not too long ago and wrote it in prose during the Slice of Life Story Challenge. 

Hopin' Folks Out

my phone rings early 
Dad

I have a story I need to tell 
while it’s fresh on my mind
before I forget

I grab my pen

It was back in the old days in rural Georgia 
when I was preaching at Ohoopee
This was down around Highway 19
where you’d go through Wrightsville
meander over to Tennille
and then head on out to Sandersville
a sea of cotton fields  
roads all red clay

Ohoopee was a church of miracles
a cured drunk who loved the Lord led the singin'
“On Jordan’s Stormy Banks,” 
only he pronounced it Jurdan’s.
and he weren’t wrong.

a fellow named Noah in the church 
needed help finding 
where to dig his well
even with a name like Noah

back in those days
people were people 
folks’ existence was all about 
helpin' their neighbors out

now 
old Elvis heard about it
“I’m coming over to hope you out” 

I went over there too
to see Elvis hope his neighbor out

Elvis said he had a divinin'  rod – 
a hickory branch –  to find water 
Elvis walked  
it tremored
I saw it with my own eyes
they dug that well right there

they called this place Possum Scuffle
back over in Harrison by Raines Store 
over yonder by Deep Step and Goat Town
by Margaret Holmes's cannery ~
black eyed peas and collards. 

 in Acts 27
Luke is in a ship in a storm 
using stabilizing ropes 
~ also hawsers or helps
a help is a hope rope
on land or at sea
it's Biblical, Kim

now
you remember that

write it down
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#VerseLove April 18 – with Fran Haley

Fran Haley of North Carolina is our host today at http://www.ethicalela.com for Day 18 of #VerseLove, inspiring us to write a triolet. You can read her full prompt here and see the form for this 8-line short form with rhyme scheme. Fran is a fellow teacher, a bird enthusiast, poet extraordinaire, and she named one of my plants on my front porch: Leafy Jean (which led me to a name for the other plant – Leafy’s brother, Leon Russell – – children both buried in a cemetery Fran visited as a child). Today I am keeping yesterday’s blog writing topic with the Rose of Jericho and changing it to a poem – a triolet! 

Choose to Live!

Rose of Jericho ~ brittle, brown, dry
unfurl your fingers! choose to live!
mixed tears of grief and joy I cry
Rose of Jericho ~ brittle, brown, dry
my gaze drifts heavenward, eyes to the sky
reassurance of faith and hope you give
Resurrection plant ~ tears green you, oh my!
unfurl your fingers! choose to live!
Rose of Jericho ~ brittle, brown, dry – an Easter gift from my daughter
Rose of Jericho ~ choosing to live, in my mother’s milk glass on the kitchen counter
Leafy Jean at 7:25 a.m. on this day, thriving on the front porch here in Georgia
Leon Russell, her brother, at 7:25 a.m. on this day, thriving on the front porch