Boats in fog
A friend wrote a tune to my poem Tree boat.
Build me a boat to float in a tree
A boat of dreams and play there with me
Float in the sky in the leaves so green
Our hands together shaping a dream
Build me a boat to heal our wounds
Scarred hearts and muscles play out of tune
The world is fearsome, hold me soon
From the tree we watch the rising moon
Build me a boat to carry us far
A moon sextant to chart where we are
To Betelgeuse or another star
We are home wherever we are
Build me a boat to float in a tree
Or a lake or a stream or an ocean all three
I dream of a boat with joins so tight
Holding us safe to sleep all night
Build me a boat smooth and slow
The plans alone could take years you know
Smooth each plank with a hand plane slow
And tell me you love me soft and low
Written November 2015. I took the photograph one evening after chorus when the clouds looked like a Maxfield Parish painting….like a dream.
…today’s wordpress prompt is pretend….
Let’s pretend….
….that the presidential candidates for 2016 were suddenly revealed to be the opposite sex of what we all thought….
….what would that look like?
Good morning! I love the soft pink and blue of the sky and clouds and reflections…. and the boat….
Early morning during the Wooden Boat Festival this year and wonderful weather!
Rushed out this morning for the 6:42 sunrise and this is my favorite so far! Contrasts, the ferry and the schooner and the small boats trailing… I worked yesterday so today I get to be at the Wooden Boat Festival! I have duties there today and tomorrow…. come on down.
I wrote this two years before my father died. I did find him…..
Frail
We are going sailing
My partner says to me
βInvite him if you want.β
Then I am busy for a while
I think of calling, then forget
He was not at chorus on Monday
At last I say,
βI havenβt called. Weβll just sail.
Just us today.β
I havenβt called
because he was not at chorus on Monday
He is frail
55 years of camels
two packs a day
as if each cigarette
destroyed one alveolus
in his lungs
one tiny air/blood interface
built to exchange oxygen
and carbon dioxide
the loss is cumulative
He is frail
he is proud that the choral director
says, βI need you.β
He canβt sustain
but his entrances and time
are the best
among the basses.
They need him.
Chorus
is our winter link
two introverts
we hug at the start of chorus
sing for two hours
and talk for a few minutes at the end
Occasionally we go for a beer
I invite him for dinner
but he comes less and less
he often does not feel well at night
He looks smaller at chorus
this season
this is normal in emphysema
the body sheds weight
too much tissue to oxygenate
too hard for the lungs
and the heart, working overtime
to make up the difference
he is blessed with low blood pressure
genetic, from his father,
tough English stock,
otherwise I think heβd be dead
I didnβt call
before we went sailing
because I am afraid
Iβve driven out before
when he has not answered the phone
for a day or two
wondering if I would find him dead
I didnβt call
before we went sailing
because he was not at chorus on Monday
because if he didnβt answer today
I would not go
I took the photograph in 2009
I took this with a zoom lens when I was helping a little with a boat launch….
We had a lovely dinner with family and friends. I look at the tablecloths and napkins that I have inherited and I am glad that I live in a time where I can work as a female physician and am not embroidering elaborate tablecloths and napkins. Some of the ones that I have WERE done by female relatives. Amazing and work that is currently not very valued.
So my centerpiece was an acknowledgement of the changes: Cindy is not going to ride in the coach. She has a canoe and paddles and a backpack, sleeping bag, stove, water bottle and GPS. She is going to find her own way and paddle her own canoe.
BLIND WILDERNESS
in front of the garden gate - JezzieG
Discover and re-discover Mexicoβs cuisine, culture and history through the recipes, backyard stories and other interesting findings of an expatriate in Canada
Or not, depending on my mood
All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain!
An onion has many layers. So have I!
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Some of the creative paths that escaped from my brain!
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Engaging in some lyrical athletics whilst painting pictures with words and pounding the pavement. I run; blog; write poetry; chase after my kids & drink coffee.
spirituality / art / ethics
Coast-to-coast US bike tour
Generative AI
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imperfect pictures
Refugees welcome - FlΓΌchtlinge willkommen I am teaching German to refugees. Ich unterrichte geflΓΌchtete Menschen in der deutschen Sprache. I am writing this blog in English and German because my friends speak English and German. Ich schreibe auf Deutsch und Englisch, weil meine Freunde Deutsch und Englisch sprechen.
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NEW FLOWERY JOURNEYS
in search of a better us
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π πππππΎπ πΆπππ½π―ππΎππ.πΌππ ππππΎ.
Taking the camera for a walk!!!
From the Existential to the Mundane - From Poetry to Prose
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Anne M Bray's art blog, and then some.
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