MAGIC MOMDENTS-THE POWER OF WORDS

a poem re- blogged from NoTalentforCertainty.wordpress.com

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sketch of Esperanza done for an advent calendar

A life unfinished, glowering in the distance,
A diffidence, a shyness from the day;
The slow conceit that happiness is wanting,
A careful plan turned into throwaway.

The birds know things, I think, that I’m still learning,
Like how we must move on, sometimes, to live —
I see them round the palace in the morning.
We’re made to take; we have to learn to give.

There’s moisture on the windows of my vision,
As though the night had cried itself to sleep;
I hear the distant calls of faint derision,
Resentment for the company I keep.

It’s up the hill: my fate, my destination,
To Movingstock, to live among the crows,
And breathe a song of maybe-new tomorrows,
And feel each passing season as
It goes

by Owen servant

Magic Moments-Rooted

Rooted

 

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I’m rooted in my past

The third but not the last

Two older siblings

Rivalry took wings

 

The runt could best

Or certainly could cheat

Her little sister in the game.

Yet to achieve the same

 

With the bigger, older one

Required something much more fun.

A hard-core stubbornness was born

And gradually became the norm

 

I’d play the game and not give up

Embellish, shine, and strut.

It didn’t matter she was smart

I had her walloped from the start

 

As for that brother-He could annoy-

Until I beat him fair like any boy.

The point is- I’m a stubborn lass

Persistence is rooted in my past

 

We grow and change, we learn

Perhaps we lean a bit-

But roots stay anchored firm

Unless the whole is hit

 

Holly 170719 (Angel in the dust)

 

 

 

 

Magic Moments-Dreaming

A lovely dream

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An Old Wish

 

Life’s so uncertain

 And that which we would wish for most

 Is often out of reach

 

This very “Now”

It seems that in this breath of time

Is where we must find peace?

 

So struggle on

The moth against the window pane

Or let the dark enfold

 

And gather ‘round

In arms of velvet solitude

With warmth against the cold

 

A quieting

That centers through our mind and soul

Then strange as it may seem

 

It settles down

Till all that we might wish will come

As in a lovely

 

 Dream

 

 

Angel in the dust

170717

Magic Moments- on the internet

Reach for the Sky

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celebrate the beauty in our world

Reach high

Embrace with love the sky

Spread wide

With heart not pride

And open handed gather in the good

To do with as you should

Then let it go

For others to know

We touch, give, release

In giving we’re given Peace

Now let your spirit fly

Reach high

 

For Owen

by holly

Angel in the dust

 

 

Magic Moments-48 hours of island bliss

“Just jump in” Debi Riley said, and I did.

Tuesday afternoon-

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Sketches from the Edgartown wharf:IMG_4919 (768x1024)IMG_5107 (755x1024)

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followed by a porch concert at the Island Inn

and then in the evening a magically silly night in Oak bluffs: dining out a  la fresco, riding the flying horses (I got a ring every revolution but missed the prize), and eating ice-cream while watching the lights on the harbor. Maybe these images will emerge in later paintings. Sorry-No photos or paintings for now.

Wednesday morning-

Sketching in watercolor while perched on a rock IMG_5108 (1024x768).jpgamid the tide drift on Katama Bay:IMG_5109 (763x1024).jpg

and then from the steps of a wharf in the cool morning fog.

Later in the heat of the day viewing the work of so many artists island wide. I especially liked the work of Colin Ruel below:IMG_5000 (1024x768)

IMG_5002 (1024x768)IMG_5001 (1024x768)   He works in acrylics on birch plywood using water and spray and with a deep empathy for the islands.

Galleries, galleries, galleries -so much beautiful art work and so inspiring!

 

 

Then in the afternoon at South beach and the airport:IMG_5049 (1024x768).jpgSitting on the edge of the sand and finally unable to resist the giant waves I just had to get my feet wet-IMG_5044 (1024x768).jpgOops

And the Atlantic has a pair of prescription transitional glasses to turn into sea glass.IMG_5105 (1024x677)IMG_5106 (1024x715)IMG_5110 (1024x523).jpgNow my whole world is a water-color blur.IMG_5111 (1024x741).jpg

And still, I can do (sort-of) a little sketch of the house in Edgartown where I stayed.

IMG_5060 (1024x768).jpgThe child in me is so very grateful-thanks friend.

“At Seventy”

I’m fit and fine

And, liable-

To Craziness

-at any time

holly

Magic Moments-at Esperanza

Or Morning Coffee on the porch

 

Asking all forgiveness from Robert Frost-

But as I ran upstairs to grab my camera his poem ‘Dust of Snow’ rang in my head and so…

 

The way the morning sun

Cast tracery

From fern leaf spun

Across my cup of coffee

 

Has given my heart

A change of mood

And saved some part

Of a day that I had rued

 

And, Then…when I came back with a new cup of coffee and my camera the shadow was gone!

That is when I remembered John Snell’s advice from his recent photography workshop given on Star Island, “where there’s one there’s usually more.”

Here are the results from that word of encouragement. Thank you John!

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Take One
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take two

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take Three

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Wonderful distractions abound

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Take Four
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And a Morning Saved

Thank you all

Angel in the Dust

Magic Moments-The internet

Re-blogged from an earlier post-here is a poem that i wrote shortly after I had started up my blog, Magic Moments. It seems appropriate to the moment.

I wish we could all meet on my west porch (or anywhere real) for a cup of tea or glass of wine this evening. Virtual life just doesn’t make it!

Holly (Angel in the Dust)

 

The Internet

 

This is a dangerous place to be

 

Thoughts and ideas swirl, overwhelm.

Too much intellectual input without order

Raw emotion writes unfinished poetry

Hungry hearts beat out their lives in space

Entangled in the web of empty fulfillment

 

While the orb weaver sits gorged on lost souls

Hours devoured before the blue-green screen

Fingers stumbling on the keys search for connection

When all that is needed is the touch, the real touch

Of your hand warm against mine

 And a soft kiss to brush my hair.

 

Early morning hours drive me

 To the center of the web

Magic Moments-painting with words

Shari says it is still national poetry week (at least for a few more days) so perhaps this is legitimate???

My GardenIMG_3435 (1024x768)

I am the cloud that cloaks this hill and sometimes hides the sun

For in my darkest hour I shed too many a tear

But here where wave on wave of westward marching hills green up at start of year

The daffodils can dance and laugh and have some fun.

 

In shining shade the cherry hangs and pansies peek and playIMG_3433 (1024x768)

While Koi slip silver, red, and gold beneath the falling water

Azalea, iris, lily, rose all thrust against the earth. And there beneath the arbor

Still nods the Lenten rose, though tulip, bluebell,  hyacinth are now on full display

 

Shy bleeding heart and Solomon seal discreetly hang their heads

And gaze below to littler flowers of violets, yellows, butterflies-and-lobeliareds.

So many tiny promises of joy in life are springing forth, ones heart should surely sing.

If only I could nurture friends as well as flowers in spring  

It is a garden of delight

          Or so it was when hearts were light.

 

 

Angel in the dust

 

Magic Moments-in R-verse

Can I write my Muse a poem?

 

 

Pen picks up as paint brush falls

Can I write my Muse a poem?

Reaching out ‘cross time he calls

On plaintive cry of circling gulls

Beyond wave on wave of foam

Stranded there so far from home

 

The home that I would wish were ours

A place secure in peacefulness

Serene and dark beneath the stars

Where less is more and more is less

A place where I could set my head to rest

In love and contemplation on his chest.

 

Then mind and body melting into one

That steady beat would drown all sound

Till our two hearts leap welcome to the sun

  The center of our universe is found

 With darkness gone, a New Day starts

While we content, embrace our arts

 

 In joy the paintbrush dances bright with fun

And colors pulse and move and run

 

angel in the dust

PS i lack the focus required to paint the peach and cherry the way i would like to. Luckily I’m about to head off to a concert and that should divert my mind. Hurray for music-especially live music.

Magic Moments-looking up

the Red maples are in bloom everywhere turning the hillsides into layered clouds of silver and pink. My friend said stop and sketch from here and so i did.

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Stillman & Birn sketchbook 51/2×81/2

I should have used Alizarin Crimson instead of my old stand-by Vermillion. I don’t think i’d really woken up yet or connected with what i was seeing. i did switch to Cobalt and Aureolin at least. The truth is that when one looks at the flowers up close they really are close to vermillion only distance adds the blue.

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same Stillman & Birn sketchbook, Tombow pen and colored pencil

thought for the day:

“…The circle of love is deep and strong. It can forgive mistakes and cast out error. It can foster greatness and bring forth new life.

…This is our function in each other’s lives: to hold the space for each other’s beauty, that our beloved can leave us and we still feel in his (or her) absence how beautiful we are.”

Marianne Williamson from A Woman’s World

 

And a painting in words just for you-

 a  New Day

 

Shards of silver break like glass

Slender black and bending boughs

Spring free of snow and icy mass.

Held down, imprisoned up ‘till now

They shake; stretch out, to greet the sun

Raining brilliants down upon a day begun…

 

Slowly Summer claims her own

Dense drifts melt back to sparkling rill

Ephemeral flowers crown her throne

Dark pools sustain a peeper’s trill

A thrush sings softly in the wood

Two ferns emerge where once

 

We stood

Angel in the dust

yh