For Saint Patrick’s Day, I thought I would share a bit of Irish history (sometimes called mythology). This poem tells the story of Patrick’s encounter with a poet named Oisin. Oisin (pronounced O-sheen) was the son of Finn MacUail (pronounced M’Cool) who was a great warrior. Oisin was the poet who recorded his father’s great … Continue reading Oisin and Patrick: an Irish Tale
When I feel sad disconnected unsure of where I belong I invite the poet in. She will remember the soft yellow-gray belly of the mocking bird vibrating as he trills high above me on the outer branch of a tree at the edge of the bridge. Darn, I can’t remember what kind of tree … Continue reading Poetic License
Written with my Thursday night group with the prompts: tangy, tired of using words, accountant, electric lights, hooked on phonics, I found the strangest thing in my pocket “I found the strangest thing in my pocket,” Peter said at breakfast. He pulled out an eight and half by eleven sheet of paper folded into a … Continue reading The Poetry Bunny
Before paper, everyone spoke in rhyme or else you’d forget what was on your grocery list. You’d go out to buy a hat and be forced to buy food for a cat, even though you only had a pet mouse to keep you company in your house. Before paper, babies were given very short names … Continue reading Before Paper
School children rushed up the city street. The shu-shush of their corduroy pants woke the white paper birch trees from their dreams. The children had come from an ocean as green and foamy as champagne. Their skin was translucent like the skin of a yellow plum blushing blue, and their eyes were brown but lit … Continue reading White Paper and Water
Hey, I just found this in my journal. I remember writing it, but I don't remember when. Guess it's time to set it free. It's a bit of Matrix thinking! If I had it to do all over again, maybe I’d take the blue pill; I’d choose the illusion. I’ll get a job in a … Continue reading If I had to do it over again. . .
Fifty-something years ago in a Catholic school not so far away, the nuns used to read to us from The Lives of the Saints. St. Brigid was always my favorite, but not because she lived in my matrilineal ancestral home of Ireland. No, she was my favorite because she had the best stories. Celtic history … Continue reading Happy St. Brigid’s Feast Day!
I spent a lovely Sunday afternoon yesterday, eating, walking, gossiping and sharing projects with Sister Writers, June Gillam and Leslie Rose. For some reason I got started venting about an incident that happened a few years back--all part of the ongoing healing process, I guess. So today I thought I would share a poem I wrote at … Continue reading Why I Left My Job
Sure, this weekend brings us SuperBowl Sunday, but also something more important than that: it's the Celtic festival of Imbolc, the traditional celebration of the beginning of spring, also known as St. Bridget's Feast Day. My thanks to Anne Hill, President of Creative Content Coaching and host of Dream Talk Radio, whose facebook post reminded … Continue reading Bridget’s Feast Day
After a week where the temperature topped 105 degrees each day with little cooling at night, we are all so grateful to welcome back the Delta Breeze, the delightful wind that courses up from San Francisco Bay along the Sacramento River to grace our valley with a natural air conditioner on blessed summer evenings. I … Continue reading Delta Breeze
