Category: Poetry
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Poets on Poetry
I do love quotes! Here are some from poets about poetry, along with a few thoughts on what the quote means to me. To be a poet is a condition, not a profession. — Robert Graves Maybe poetry is like the common cold. Every so often we ‘catch’ it and write a poem. Poetry is…
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The Beauty of Discipline
In January of 2026, one reader commented that her word of the year was ‘discipline.’ This post is for you, W., and for me, as you will see. Discipline is training that develops self-control, obedience, or order, and it can also mean a specific branch of knowledge or study. (Merriam-Webster) It carries overtones of punishment…
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How Can I Write in Times Like These?
Writers often discredit their work. The ‘real’ world is falling to pieces, whether politically, emotionally, financially or whatever. Bigger things should be done than sitting quietly at a desk writing words that may or may not ever be read. I have never heard someone say, How can I knit in times like these? Or how…
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Harvest Song
Riding down the country road, nothing’s lonely asa dirty pickup truck, a creaking saddleand wind blowing;nothing’s empty asover the open plaina desert skysifting the sand;nothing’s sadder thanwandering trails,always searchingthe golden fieldsfor a dream;you’ll only hearthe warm autumn sunturning the grain to gold,the song of the saddleand old days rememberedwhen you are lonesome, too;searching the skywhen…
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The Power of Intent: Habits for Life On Purpose
All paintings on this page by Claude Monet, 1840-1926, Impressionism Living intentionally requires a person to be intentional! At first, it is hard work, much harder than the old, unhelpful habits. Living with intention means always on — at first. Every response and reaction is up for research. Every focus and flow is questioned. You…
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In Poetry We Say…
Poetry lifts the veil from the hidden beauty of the world, and makes familiar objects be as if they were not familiar. –Percy Bysshe Shelley The Donkey When fishes flew and forests walked And figs grew upon thorn,Some moment when the moon was blood Then surely I was born.With monstrous head and sickening cry And…
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More Than Was Lost Has Been Found
Try reading this poem out loud. When faces called flowers float out of the groundand breathing is wishing and wishing is having—but keeping is downward and doubting and neverit’s april (yes, april, my darling) it’s spring!yes the pretty birds frolic as spry as can flyyes the little fish gamble as glad as can be(yes the…
