This poem continues my theme of December oranges, but also serves as a holiday warning: don't let this season try your patience and drive you to exhaustion! Remember, the smartest thing to do on the longest night of the year is sleep. If I can pluck the moon from the sky I may find it’s … Continue reading Don’t Eat the Moon
Continuing my December theme, I give you my own personal ode to oranges. . . Oranges are loud. Oranges are splashy. They are not subtle. They are not shy. They may be as big as softballs, but they consider themselves to be miniature stars, small globes of fire, a reflection of the solar energy that … Continue reading Juicy
On December 7th, 1941, my mother was at her friend Louise’s house. They were picking the first oranges of the season when Louise’s mother came out to the yard to tell them the news that the Japanese had bombed Pearl Harbor. Every year after, my mother commemorated the date by picking, and then eating, the … Continue reading My Mother’s Orange Tree
Written with my Thursday night group with the prompts: bulgaricus, in an orange room, why is she crying, the farm, he palmed his meds, there is no one there, hey baby, they were new, Kansas, healing, big medicine, Hank 25 years ago, they were young, is it all a sham, poppies like flames dancing, sat, peaceful … Continue reading An Orange Room On a Blue Planet
Here in California it remains unseasonably warm, so it's hard to believe that the holidays are right abound the corner. I want to let you know that all the paperback novels in my Avian Series are currently on sale at Amazon for 15% off. They all have beautiful new covers designed by graphic artist Karen … Continue reading Book News!
Every year on Pearl Harbor Day, I like to tell the story of my late mother, who was picking oranges with her best friend on December 7th, 1941, when they got the news that the Japanese had bombed the US Naval Base in Hawaii. Every year after, she picked the first orange of the season … Continue reading Juicy
