Epistle Poem

Twice a month I post an exercise on  Imaginary Garden blog.  I found this at random...I seem to be on a Roman kick, lately. Epistle is Latin for letter. I thought it was fitting, lately references to Rome keep showing up, on TV, in books, etc.


I have been fighting this bad cold.  I am much better, thank you everyone for your kind words!  I have missed being part of blogging; it feels weird to come back, like I have lost my footing on the trail. I will try to play catch up; I am sure I missed a lot ;D   I missed all of you~ We can't explain this to people who don't blog, can we!  I hope everyone is well; I can't wait to stop by and see what I have missed.  I have had a sinus infection, cold and then the flu like symptoms.  I don't think I had the flu.  I have a friend who argues with me. "sinus headaches don't make you vomit, you had a migraine"  I asked my Dr to end this damn debate.  I won, sort of...  

I have been struggling with the book that wants to come out of me, being ill and my Mom's move. I  am behind in a lot of my creative endeavors. The book seems to have a life of it's own. I know stress did me in. Mom's move is difficult for me. I still am trying to figure out if I can go home. I know sounds simple, but in reality it is not. My husband is getting ready for another business trip, my families crazy schedule makes all of this difficult.


Dear Everyone,


Where do you come from?   Artist, Misty Mawn posted this question on  a piece of art, but also in a class room. I read it on her blog somewhere, but can't find the link.  I thought this might be a great expressive letter.   I would love you to answer the question in the comments, just a bit, give us a hint of who you are.


Middle is where I grew
surrounded by coastal charm n' tall pines
where heaven kisses the sea and hugs the shore
my heart ebbs n' flows in the stormy n' calm
I'm the dust of ancestor's quilted dreams
stitched in an arched brow, a look, a gesture, a smile
Mother's Nature window is my view
green roots reaching through decay and fertile soul
climb my heart strings
music awakens me
spider webbed rose bushes
paving my path
popcorn is in my blood
changeover like film is my lifestyle
anchored in my heart
family's tree filled with
humor, song, creating, and bread dough
my fingerprints are permanently smudged red, blue n' green
on a swinging glider
reflected glass is my rear view mirror
moss gathers my memories tied with baker's twine
soul's comfort is in sand, shells, rose petals and pine needles
family crest is rusted with Indian artifacts, "que sera sera" and tea

Please share a bit about you; you can put just where you were born or where you have felt most at home~














.

To all it may concern:

It is time to embrace the 2^nd New Year

As mood changes color and shifts 

the dance of  change arrives

Your muse want to come out and play

Please allow them space to breathe

Offer them hope, energy and joy

Let them scribble, be loud, play music, write, paint and scream if needed

Open doorways to them

Write down their hints, clues

unearth the facts of your soul

Caress their needs and partake in their time out

daily they visit if you are open

take the time to allow

the green shoots to grow

branch off and experiment

play with your ideas

when the fish jumps
the ripples in the pond
mirror your chance
strike now
winter will appear too soon
it seems cold n' distant, but we all
endure winter's mood
frozen tucked away ideas
to thaw out another day
Some days summer's joy will give
you endless energy, other days will
be springlious with fresh cleansing rain
some days will be mud in your eye
you must see through the dust, the drought, the
flood, allow your memories to surface
and redirect your dreams