Smorgasbord Posts from Your Archives – #PotLuck – #Poetry -Snow Day by Amanda Reilly Sayer


Welcome to the  Posts from Your Archives, where bloggers put their trust in me. In this series, I dive into a blogger’s archives and select four posts to share here to my audience.

If you would like to know how it works here is the original post: https://smorgasbordinvitation.wordpress.com/2019/04/28/smorgasbord-posts-from-your-archives-newseries-pot-luck-and-do-you-trust-me/

This is the third post from Amanda Reilly Sayer and because Amanda has only begun blogging recently, the posts are from 2019. There is plenty to share in poetry, prose and wonderful artwork. I am sure you are going to enjoy. This week I have selected a poem to share with you…

Snow Day by Amanda Reilly Sayer

New snowfall through starless night
Laden trees with cotton tufts
Now, luminous tendrils
Against the dawn sky

“Snow Day!” cheers rang through the house
As kids, alert in their still warm pajamas
Danced with anticipated snow forts
And other forbidden weekday play

All whilst their parents, bent over for boot lacing
Felt their backs groan, remembering
The last storm, which wasn’t the last
Not nearly the last, after all

If they noticed anything
Beyond their full shovels
The rhythmic, industrious scraping
It wasn’t apparent to anyone

Until the laughter of their children
Rattled the glass panes
And impelled them notice
Breath-stained windows, mindful nudges

Look up and see!
The vast sky of carefree days
Your perception
Malleable as wet snow

Witness the very moment
When fading midnight embers
That blue-lit, sparkling tree line
Those inky nighttime remnants

Become the new day

©Amanda Reilly Sayer

About Amanda Reilly Sayer

My creative expression is fairly diverse, but I think there is a consistent thread which ultimately examines and encourages personal and artistic growth. The engagement with different art forms keeps me interested and in evolution. I hope my efforts will be meaningful for you too.

At least sometimes, I think we progress by stepping back and looking through different lenses. The contrast between different forms helps me do that, ever challenging me to see beyond the known. Watercolor encourages me to think about layers and transparency, which makes for some interesting effects when applied to acrylic paintings. Photography helps me focus on composition and light. Poetry trains me to be succinct and thoughtful about word choice.

There is always a risk of doing too much, of diluting quality. I may yet specialize. But for now, I’ll continue to aim for progression in process, to work towards ever better results. I hope you’ll join me!

Connect to Amanda

Website: https://amandaart.poetry.blog/about-me-2/
Artwork: https://amandaart.poetry.blog/painting-gallery/

Thank you to Amanda for allowing me to share the posts from her archives and I hope you will head over and explore for yourself.. Sally.

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Smorgasbord Posts from Your Archives – #Potluck -#poetry The Old Man and his Memories by Christa Polkinhorn


Welcome to the series  Posts from Your Archives, where bloggers put their trust in me. In this series, I dive into a blogger’s archives and select four posts to share here to my audience.

If you would like to know how it works here is the original post: https://smorgasbordinvitation.wordpress.com/2019/04/28/smorgasbord-posts-from-your-archives-newseries-pot-luck-and-do-you-trust-me/

This is the third post from author Christa Polkinhorn who has been blogging since 2010.. This gave me access to her extensive archives. Christa is also a poet and I fell in love with this particular one that she wrote in 2000 and posted in 2016…

The Old Man and his Memories by Christa Polkinhorn

Image Christa Polkinhorn

He always walks the same street
stops at the same coffee shop
sits at his favorite table
looking lonely and somewhat bored
Today is different; today his eyes
accentuated by the blue hat
are deep and longing
he scans the sky
as if he heard the spirits of lost friends
converse with one another
somewhere above the evening clouds
He’s holding a long-stemmed rose
a perfect bud of red with white tips
who knows which young girl
took pity on an old man
quite decently dressed
alone and possibly ill
the blotchy skin
one edge of his mouth drooping
and the hands unsteady
signs of a past stroke
Perhaps he’s thinking of that night
he walked along the beach
of the flecks of gold on the horizon
of his wife, long dead,
who used to love sunsets
of his married daughter who lives in France
and the grandchild, a girl with long dark hair,
who sends him letters in French
he barely understands but
delights in anyway
I don’t have it bad
he probably thinks
a place to live
a few friends
you can’t ask too much at my age
an occasional phone call from overseas
the usual invitation to come and visit
We’ll take you to Paris
didn’t you always want to go there?
No, not anymore, not without his wife
it would be too sad to always be reminded
how much she would have enjoyed it
more than he who’d really rather stay home
but he would have gone to please her
but now there is no reason anymore
His daughter and the family come to visit
once in a while for a few weeks
the young girls passing by the coffee shop
remind him of her; she used to have long hair
braided the French way
Tonight, perhaps, he’ll sort out
the old photos in the cardboard boxes
and stick them into albums
which he had been planning to do for a long time
only to abandon the task
feeling the life flow out of him and settle
in memories of past adventures
past loves
Sometimes, before falling asleep,
voices from within the bedroom walls
convince him that someone is still alive there
He’s smiling now
a slightly crooked smile
one corner of his mouth pointing upwards
the other one hanging down.

©Christa Polkinhorn 2016

About Christa Polkinhorn

Born and raised in Switzerland, I have always had the desire to explore the world outside of my beautiful but tiny country. I traveled in Europe, China, Japan as well as South America. Now, I live and work as writer and translator in southern California. My interest in foreign cultures informs my work and my novels take place in several countries. I published a volume of poetry (The Path of Fire). Now, I write and publish contemporary fiction with a focus on family drama/love stories (The Family Portrait trilogy) and family drama/suspense (The Wine Lover’s Daughter series). Aside from writing and traveling, I am an avid reader and a lover of the arts, dark chocolate, and red wine.

A selection of books by Christa Polkinhorn

One of the reviews for Fire in the Vineyard

A wonderful story about a family of wine producers and merchants. The story comes with interesting characters and complicated family relationships. When things start to go wrong in the vineyard, everybody is a suspect, including family members. The author makes clever use of dialogue as things heat up and suspicions turn nasty. The vivid descriptions of the California wine producing landscape make you want to visit this part of America. Woven into the narrative is the complicated process of producing a bottle of wine. A great read for those who love a glass of wine and even for those who don’t

Read the reviews and buy the books: https://www.amazon.com/Christa-Polkinhorn/e/B003LA7T8W

And Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Christa-Polkinhorn/e/B003LA7T8W

Read more reviews and follow Christa on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4202173.Christa_Polkinhorn

Connect to Christa

Website: www.christa-polkinhorn.com
Blog: www.christa-polkinhorn.com/blog/
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/Author.ChristaPolkinhorn/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/christa.polkinhorn
Twitter: https://twitter.com/cpolkinhorn
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/cpolkinhorn/

My thanks to Christa for allowing me access to her archives and I know she would love to have your feedback.. I hope you will head over and explore her wonderful selection of posts. Thanks Sally

 

Smorgasbord Posts from Your Archives – #PotLuck – #Poetry – Camping by Dorinda Duclos


Welcome to the  Posts from Your Archives, where bloggers put their trust in me. In this series, I dive into a blogger’s archives and select four posts to share here to my audience.

If you would like to know how it works here is the original post: https://smorgasbordinvitation.wordpress.com/2019/04/28/smorgasbord-posts-from-your-archives-newseries-pot-luck-and-do-you-trust-me/

Delighted to welcome poet Dorinda Duclos to the series with the first of her archive posts. And I have selected a poem from 2014 that caught my attention.. and mirrors my sentiments exactly.

Camping by Dorinda Duclos

They pitch their tents
And gather sticks
They tell me I should try it
It’s fun they say
Come on and play
Sorry, I just don’t buy it
The forest folk hide nearby
They never make a sound
But I know they’re there
And try not to care
However, it’s much too quiet
A pat on the back
As they finish their tasks
The campsite looks quite inviting
But I’m still not staying
With bugs I’m not laying
Just drop me off at the Hyatt.

©2014 Dorinda Duclos

About Dorinda Duclos

Dorinda Duclos is a writer of poetry, sharing her life experiences in verse. She is also the author of the blog, Night Owl Poetry, and has amassed a following of fellow poets, writers and artists, and is highly recognized in social media. She is a member of the Poetry Society of America and the Academy of American Poets, as well as a guest writer on PoetsCornerBlog.wordpress.com

She was also involved in “Poets for Peace”, a collaboration of poems from poets around the world. This collaboration is now archived in the ‘Stanford University Archive’ of the ‘100,000 Poets for Change’ collection!

A wife and mother of two, Dorinda makes her home in northern New Jersey, surrounded by wildlife, and nature’s beauty, all inspiration for her poetry.

A selection of  books by Dorinda Duclos

One of the recent reviews for Night Owl Poetry

Night Owl Poetry by Dorinda Duclos is an anthology of poems that begins with an intense symbol of Cocoon, which sheathes the internal beauty, yearning to break free. Slowly it wades into deeper waters of life, trying to figure out its real meaning and exhorting you to believe in yourself to understand the ‘jigsaw of life.’ The paradox of fleeting moments yet time standing still, past that lingers around us despite the beckoning light, A broken heart and yearning for brighter paths – all comes alive in these pages that glow with signature style of a brilliant poet.

Symbolism is the forte of Dorinda, as the night owl is an image for the poet who can’t sleep without completing her rendezvous with the wonderful words she pours into her musings. Whether she pays homage to soldiers or empathizes with ‘The Bag Lady,’ Duclos handles each theme perceptively. Once again love for nature shines through her poetry despite various issues that inspire her. This is a perfect book for poetry lovers. 

All the books including signed copies can be purchased through Dorinda’s website: Book Page

Read the reviews and buy the books: https://www.amazon.com/Dorinda-Duclos/e/B00LE97O5K

And Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Dorinda-Duclos/e/B00LE97O5K

Read more reviews and follow Dorinda on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8405193.Dorinda_Duclos

Connect to Dorinda

Blog: https://dorindaduclos.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/dorindaduclosauthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/dorindaduclos
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/thenightowlpoet/

My thanks to Dorinda for allowing me to browse her archives and share this post with you… and it would be great if you would head over and explore her archives for yourself.. thanks Sally.

 

Smorgasbord Posts from Your Archives #PotLuck – #Poetry – The love of a mother by Marian Wood


Welcome to the series of Posts from Your Archives, where bloggers put their trust in me. In this series, I dive into a blogger’s archives and select four posts to share here to my audience.

If you would like to know how it works here is the original post: https://smorgasbordinvitation.wordpress.com/2019/04/28/smorgasbord-posts-from-your-archives-newseries-pot-luck-and-do-you-trust-me/

Today I am sharing the final post from the archives of Marian Wood and her blog Just Muddling Through Life Marian has been blogging since October 2018 and posts about family life, writing, fiction and poetry.. I have chosen a poem that I am sure you will enjoy…

Our roots are deep just like my thoughts

The Love of a Mother by Marian Wood.

Our roots are deep just like my thoughts and her red sweater,
Looking at her I decided that life can only get better.
Through what we go through and all life’s challenges,
The discussions we have had to put our minds at ease.

Walking now we admire nature’s true beauty,
The animals, the plants and the wonderful country.
The sounds that the wind makes as it sings through the trees
As they stand there swaying against the breeze.

My daughter she looks at me and starts to smile,
My heart it melts as I stare back for a while.
I take her hand and we then continue to walk,
Looking at the floor, my beautiful daughter begins to talk.

Discussing the woods and discussing the leaves,
Watching the rabbits as they play in the trees.
Looking at the squirrels as they jump from bough to bough,
We both wished our walk wasn’t nearly over now.

Enjoying our time together, just the two of us,
Without daddy or her brother, no stress or fuss.
The time spent alone as just daughter and mother,
A love that can’t be replaced, a love like no other.

We walk and we talk, and my child starts to laugh,
As we sit and watch some rabbits play on the path.
We now pull our coats around us so tightly,
As the winter wind it moans, it does not blow lightly.

We are very soon now back at the car,
Strapping my daughter in, we don’t have to drive far.
Skipping through the afternoon traffic,
My daughter falls asleep, our walk was terrific.

As we arrive home, I am greeted by my son,
He was happy at home with daddy he hadn’t wanted to come.
I hugged him and assured him it was his turn tomorrow,
So, what did he want to do? it was my turn to follow.

As a mother of two most wonderful children,
I don’t find it hard to want to spend time with them.
For the times and the pleasures that our children bring,
Relax and enjoy them, try to make time to sing.

So, the roots of a love between a child and their mum,
Could be traced right back to before their life had begun.
From knowing baby is there until that first kick,
Or maybe to the first time that mum felt sick.

So tomorrow it is a day for mother and son,
A day to go out and try to have some fun.
Whilst our daughter spends time alone with her daddy,
She really adores him and he makes her happy.

So, the roots of our love trace back to before birth,
Forging a love that is greater then anything on earth.
The time spent together alone with my family,
Is always good as we are a powerful entity.

©Marian Wood 2019

About Marian Wood

I am Marian I am a married working mum, living in Kent, UK with two brilliant young children. I am not a very confident person and I am often down on myself. I get very stressed with work and family life, often struggling to relax and rest.

I started my blog because despite a few issues with my grammar I enjoy writing and I love reading. I have begun to write my first novel, but after writing about 29000 words I am a bit stuck. I do realise I need to get back to it and just write.

My husband and my children are my world. This blog tells our story of our ups and downs and also some of my creative writing.

Connect to Marian

Blog: https://justmuddlingthroughlife.co.uk/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/EyeOfMazz
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/marianwood76/

My thanks to Marian for permitting me to delve into her archives to share with you…I hope you will head over and enjoy reading them for yourselves.. thanks Sally

 

 

 

 

 

Smorgasbord Posts from Your Archives #Potluck #Poetry – stripping by Frank Prem


Welcome to the series  Posts from Your Archives, where bloggers put their trust in me. In this series, I dive into a blogger’s archives and select four posts to share here to my audience.

If you would like to know how it works here is the original post: https://smorgasbordinvitation.wordpress.com/2019/04/28/smorgasbord-posts-from-your-archives-newseries-pot-luck-and-do-you-trust-me/

Frank Prem is an Australian author with two collections of poetry that describe his childhood growing in a small town… and the second, the dreadful wildfire that rapidly engulfed communities and took many lives. Both of which I have read and can recommend. I am delighted to be allowed to sample his archives to share with you.

In June 2017, Frank posted a poem a day.. and so I have chosen the poems he posted on this day and then the subsequent poems that correspond to his posts here…

stripping by Frank Prem June 25th 2017

beneath the paint
the timber
resides

mountain ash
that once grew
oh
so tall
so straight
in the heart
of the rain forest

length by length
painted
canary bright
used to seat the children
swimming
in municipal pools

Yellow Board

beneath the paint
still pure
heartwood

in dabs and blobs
a coating applied
of a jelli-um

a something derived
from a something

wait and watch
paint cracks
and bubbles rise
soaking deep
while lifting

Yellow Scrapings1

I feel the burning
of the stuff
seep into
across my fingers

this is not sport
it is a fire
of redemption

and as the scraper
ploughs
and digs
yellow ribbons curl
above the sludge
and fly
off to the side
away to ground

but  where the paint
is pushed away
pale
like new skin
cloistered beneath a parasol
the wood
the straight grained wood
is revealed again

Clean Board

I would not have thought
to be so moved
by this
rescue
and revelation

but when the garish
yellow-ness
is gone
what is left
is the passing purity
of mountains

©Frank Prem 2017

About Frank Prem

I’ve been a storytelling poet for about forty years. Longer in fact, as I remember the first poem I wrote while at secondary school was about 150 – 200 words long and was accepted in lieu of a 500 word essay. I think that may have been the start.

I love to read my work to a live audience, and have audio recorded some recent recordings and popped them on my author page. I have also done some studio- recorded work under the direction and accompaniment of my wife Leanne Murphy that can be listened to there. These poems are on mythological themes and the accompaniment by Leanne makes them a little bit extraordinary.

By profession, I am a psychiatric nurse and have worked across most facets of public psychiatry and the mental health/mental illness spectrum. My experiences and reflections on what I have seen and done are the subject of a forthcoming memoir – scheduled for late 2019, or perhaps more likely, 2020.

I’ve been published in magazines, zines and anthologies, in Australia and in a number of other countries, but for a long time I haven’t sought much publication. The whims of editors are a little too capricious and unknowable, so I have preferred to hone my craft and self-publish on my poetry blogs

Leanne and I reside in the beautiful township of Beechworth in the North-East of Victoria (Australia).

Books by Frank Prem

One of the recent reviews for Devil in the Wind on Goodreads

I’m not a poetry person, at least not normally, but I cried when I read ‘Devil in the Wind’ by Frank Prem. It’s about the Black Saturday fires that claimed 173 lives here in Victoria.
I was at home in Warrandyte that day. I’d sent the Offspring away, but I was at home with Dad and the animals because Dad had mild dementia and…I don’t think any of us really believed. I listened to 774 radio all day and some horrific reports were being phoned in, but we had the best roof sprinklers money could buy, and fire-resistant shutters. I was sure we’d be fine. And we didn’t really believe.

The next day, the reports started coming in and finally, we believed.

It was ‘all in together’ for a while after Black Saturday. We grieved, and donated food, and money, and hay because the animals were starving, and because we were alive and so many were not.

The togetherness has disappeared now, but we had it for a while, and I thank Frank Prem for helping me remember.

Read the reviews and buy the books: https://www.amazon.com/Frank-Prem/e/B07L61HNZ4

And Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Frank-Prem/e/B07L61HNZ4

Read more reviews for both books and follow Frank on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18679262.Frank_Prem

Connect to Frank

Website: www.frankprem.com
Website Audio: https://frankprem.com/audio-recordings-spoken-word/
Seventeen Syllable Poetry: https://seventeensyllablepoetry.wordpress.com/
Blog: https://frankprem.wordpress.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Frank.Prem.Poet.Author

My thanks to Frank for allowing me access to his archives and I suggest that you head over and enjoy for yourselves..thanks Sally.

Smorgasbord Posts from Your Archives – #PotLuck – #Poetry – A Social Butterfly by Balroop Singh


Welcome to the  Posts from Your Archives, where bloggers put their trust in me. In this series, I dive into a blogger’s archives and select four posts to share here to my audience.

If you would like to know how it works here is the original post: https://smorgasbordinvitation.wordpress.com/2019/04/28/smorgasbord-posts-from-your-archives-newseries-pot-luck-and-do-you-trust-me/

Poet and author Balroop Singh is always a welcome guest here on Smorgasbord and has shared many posts in the past. This time I get to choose the posts from Balroop’s archives and for her final post in this series, I have chosen another poem which brought to mind some I have known……

 A Social Butterfly by Balroop Singh

A butterfly of humble origin
Fascinated more by fusion
Of colors…cold and impudent
She lived far in her illusions.

Fond of fluttering all the time
Competing with unrealistic goals
Eager to move ahead quicker
Could never live up to her roles.

Living in the realm of her choice
Prudence could scoff at her conceit
Relationships – only for self-adulation
Home – just a haven of self-retreat

Pretense was her favorite outfit
Her attachments were contrived
To get maximum benefits…
Which she easily derived.

Learning to fly with other’s support
Now she leans heavily on her lies
She still expects admiration
From all those she derides!

Up at the horizon
She sits with delusional delight
Leaning heavily on clouds
Forgetting they don’t show even in moonlight.

©Balroop Singh

About Balroop Singh

Balroop Singh, a former teacher, an educationalist, a blogger, a poet and an author always had a passion for writing. The world of her imagination has a queer connection with realism. She could envision the images of her own poetry while teaching the poems. Her dreams saw the light of the day when she published her first book: ‘Sublime Shadows Of Life.’ She has always lived through her heart.

She is a great nature lover; she loves to watch birds flying home. The sunsets allure her with their varied hues that they lend to the sky. She can spend endless hours listening to the rustling leaves and the sound of waterfalls. She lives in Danville, California.

Books by Balroop Singh

One of the recent reviews for Timeless Echoes

This book of poetry was amazing! I loved the sublime emotions that were expressed – those of young love, lost love, estranged love, motherhood, a mother’s pride, forgiveness, disillusionment, et al. Balroop Singh has the power over the poetry lovers soul and her poems are inspiring as well as therapeutic. I have found great counsel, hope, and peace in reading Balroop Singh’s book of poems entitled – ‘Timeless Echoes’. I would really like to stress here that Balroop Singh’s poems are really therapeutic and can aid in overcoming the monotony and banality of the modern materialistic world. Please read and cherish these poems and they will cure you of any heartache that you are going through. If you are a poetry lover and want to read something fresh with therapeutic overtones, read ‘Timeless Echoes’. If you are an ardent lover of sublime poetry, especially poetry which is ethereal, then this is the book for you. If you prefer poetry about love in all its forms with a touch of gentleness and forgiveness – a healing touch, then this is the book you should be reading. My favorite poems in this book were ‘Silent Echo’, ‘Eternal Wait’, ‘Eternal Love’, ‘My First Love’, ‘Do You Love Me’, ‘Love Changes’, ‘Illusional Calm’, ‘The Door’, ‘New Life’, ‘Your Eyes Say All’ and ‘They Are Not Born’. Liked the sounds and ‘feels’ of those poem titles then what are you waiting for? Ggo and pick up Balroop Singh’s ‘Timeless Echoes’ right now, and heal the scars both inner and outer. Support Balroop Singh and buy her book. Happy Reading to all!

Read the reviews and buy the books: https://www.amazon.com/Balroop-Singh/e/B00N5QLW8U

and Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Balroop-Singh/e/B00N5QLW8U

Read more reviews and follow Balroop on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7340810.Balroop_Singh

Connect to Balroop Singh.

Blog: http://balroop2013.wordpress.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/BalroopShado
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Emotional-Shadows/151387075057971
Pinteresthttps://www.pinterest.com/balroops/

My thanks to Balroop for permitting me to browse her archives to share with you… we would love your feedback  thanks Sally.

Smorgasbord Posts from Your Archives – #Potluck #Poetry – long night, moon by Frank Prem


Welcome to the series  Posts from Your Archives, where bloggers put their trust in me. In this series, I dive into a blogger’s archives and select four posts to share here to my audience.

If you would like to know how it works here is the original post: https://smorgasbordinvitation.wordpress.com/2019/04/28/smorgasbord-posts-from-your-archives-newseries-pot-luck-and-do-you-trust-me/

Frank Prem is an Australian author with two collections of poetry that describe his childhood growing in a small town… and the second, the dreadful wildfire that rapidly engulfed communities and took many lives. Both of which I have read and can recommend. I am delighted to be allowed to sample his archives to share with you.

In June 2017, Frank posted a poem a day.. and so I have chosen the poems he posted on this day and then the subsequent poems that correspond to his posts here…

Moon 1

long night, moon by Frank Prem June 18th 2017

long night
moon
you don’t know
when to be gone

I see you there
so small in the sky

is this your home
now
with the nights
so cold

long
night moon
why do you delay
your going

the daytime
is no time
for you
small moon

the dark night
is alone
and longs to feel
the bright
of your glow

it is a long night
moon
will you burn yourself
in the day time

or
long night moon
maybe
you should
go

©Frank Prem 2017

About Frank Prem

I’ve been a storytelling poet for about forty years. Longer in fact, as I remember the first poem I wrote while at secondary school was about 150 – 200 words long and was accepted in lieu of a 500 word essay. I think that may have been the start.

I love to read my work to a live audience, and have audio recorded some recent recordings and popped them on my author page. I have also done some studio- recorded work under the direction and accompaniment of my wife Leanne Murphy that can be listened to there. These poems are on mythological themes and the accompaniment by Leanne makes them a little bit extraordinary.

By profession, I am a psychiatric nurse and have worked across most facets of public psychiatry and the mental health/mental illness spectrum. My experiences and reflections on what I have seen and done are the subject of a forthcoming memoir – scheduled for late 2019, or perhaps more likely, 2020.

I’ve been published in magazines, zines and anthologies, in Australia and in a number of other countries, but for a long time I haven’t sought much publication. The whims of editors are a little too capricious and unknowable, so I have preferred to hone my craft and self-publish on my poetry blogs

Leanne and I reside in the beautiful township of Beechworth in the North-East of Victoria (Australia).

Books by Frank Prem

One of the recent reviews for Devil in the Wind

Devil in the Wind is not an ordinary collection of poems as this book tell the story of the awful fires that ravaged parts of Australia in February 2009, destroying homes, livestock, forests and people. Each poems gives a different and unique insight into the effect of the fires on different people in different roles in society, including the firefighters, as well as description of how they reacted to the fires, with fighting spirit, brazenness, prayer or despair.

I live in a country that is also plagued by raging fires from time to time and I have felt the fear of being undecided as to whether to fight or flee. If you make the wrong decision you can needlessly loose everything or you can end up dead, along with your family. Frank Prem has captured the turbulent emotions, confusion and conflict that people experience during times of crisis. He also captures the spirit of survival and the ability of people to rally and recover.

A few of the stanza’s that captured my imagination in this book are as follows:

“a young fella went up
to the hamper
crawled right inside it

buried himself in the clothes
and wouldn’t come out

took two and a half hours
to get him to speak”
From ever again

“the sound I heard
was like ten or twelve jumbo jets
down at the airport
all screaming their guts out
at the same time”
From evidence to the commission of enquiry: overview

I would recommend this book to both lovers of poetry and people who are interested in historical events. Frank Prem’s poetry is powerful, but easy to read and understand. A most enjoyable book.

Read the reviews and buy the books: https://www.amazon.com/Frank-Prem/e/B07L61HNZ4

And Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Frank-Prem/e/B07L61HNZ4

Read more reviews for both books and follow Frank on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18679262.Frank_Prem

Connect to Frank

Website: www.frankprem.com
Website Audio: https://frankprem.com/audio-recordings-spoken-word/
Seventeen Syllable Poetry: https://seventeensyllablepoetry.wordpress.com/
Blog: https://frankprem.wordpress.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Frank.Prem.Poet.Author

My thanks to Frank for allowing me access to his archives and I suggest that you head over and enjoy for yourselves..thanks Sally.

Smorgasbord Posts from Your Archives – #PotLuck – Ode To #Poetry by Balroop Singh


Welcome to the  Posts from Your Archives, where bloggers put their trust in me. In this series, I dive into a blogger’s archives and select four posts to share here to my audience.

If you would like to know how it works here is the original post: https://smorgasbordinvitation.wordpress.com/2019/04/28/smorgasbord-posts-from-your-archives-newseries-pot-luck-and-do-you-trust-me/

Poet and author Balroop Singh is always a welcome guest here on Smorgasbord and has shared many posts in the past. This time I get to choose the posts from Balroop’s archives. This week I have chosen a post about poetry…

Poetry

Ode to Poetry by Balroop Singh

Time stands still in your clique
Stream of consciousness flows faster
Solitude becomes sweeter
Silent soliloquies speak softly

Imagination soars in your company
Insights find a crystal clear channel
Enlightening moments ignite ideas
You add a calming color to them

Sunsets lend their hues to my words
Moon breathes life into them
Mesmerizing dawn dons divine light
When you visit my affable abode

You inspire me to look at the clouds
Creative fairies step out and smile
Somber thoughts spill out to greet you
You enthrall them when you meet

You enhance my inner voice
You absorb all my woes
You draw me out of my cocoon
You tell me to keep desires in tune

You are my perceptive mentor
I was delighted to discover you
Only you could direct me through streams
Thank you for giving shape my dreams.

©Balroop Singh

About Balroop Singh

Balroop Singh, a former teacher, an educationalist, a blogger, a poet and an author always had a passion for writing. The world of her imagination has a queer connection with realism. She could envision the images of her own poetry while teaching the poems. Her dreams saw the light of the day when she published her first book: ‘Sublime Shadows Of Life.’ She has always lived through her heart.

She is a great nature lover; she loves to watch birds flying home. The sunsets allure her with their varied hues that they lend to the sky. She can spend endless hours listening to the rustling leaves and the sound of waterfalls. She lives in Danville, California.

Books by Balroop Singh

One of the recent reviews for Timeless Echoes

This book of poetry was amazing! I loved the sublime emotions that were expressed – those of young love, lost love, estranged love, motherhood, a mother’s pride, forgiveness, disillusionment, et al. Balroop Singh has the power over the poetry lovers soul and her poems are inspiring as well as therapeutic. I have found great counsel, hope, and peace in reading Balroop Singh’s book of poems entitled – ‘Timeless Echoes’. I would really like to stress here that Balroop Singh’s poems are really therapeutic and can aid in overcoming the monotony and banality of the modern materialistic world. Please read and cherish these poems and they will cure you of any heartache that you are going through. If you are a poetry lover and want to read something fresh with therapeutic overtones, read ‘Timeless Echoes’. If you are an ardent lover of sublime poetry, especially poetry which is ethereal, then this is the book for you. If you prefer poetry about love in all its forms with a touch of gentleness and forgiveness – a healing touch, then this is the book you should be reading. My favorite poems in this book were ‘Silent Echo’, ‘Eternal Wait’, ‘Eternal Love’, ‘My First Love’, ‘Do You Love Me’, ‘Love Changes’, ‘Illusional Calm’, ‘The Door’, ‘New Life’, ‘Your Eyes Say All’ and ‘They Are Not Born’. Liked the sounds and ‘feels’ of those poem titles then what are you waiting for? Ggo and pick up Balroop Singh’s ‘Timeless Echoes’ right now, and heal the scars both inner and outer. Support Balroop Singh and buy her book. Happy Reading to all!

Read the reviews and buy the books: https://www.amazon.com/Balroop-Singh/e/B00N5QLW8U

and Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Balroop-Singh/e/B00N5QLW8U

Read more reviews and follow Balroop on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7340810.Balroop_Singh

Connect to Balroop Singh.

Blog: http://balroop2013.wordpress.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/BalroopShado
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Emotional-Shadows/151387075057971
Pinteresthttps://www.pinterest.com/balroops/

My thanks to Balroop for permitting me to browse her archives to share with you… we would love your feedback  thanks Sally.

Smorgasbord Posts from Your Archives – Poetic Mead – by Paul Andruss..


Paul Andruss has been exploring poetry in the last few weeks and today a post from his archives on the subject of Poetic Mead….a drink that has been brewed for thousands of years across the continents and holds mythical properties….

The Cauldron of Inspiration warmed by the breath of nine maidens. (From Celtic Myths and Legends by Charles Squire with illustration by Ernest Wallcousins 1912)

Poetic Mead by Paul Andruss

Mead is an alcoholic drink made entirely from honey, or honey mixed with pulped fruit or mashed grain. It was drunk though history and across continents from Neolithic Chinese farmers, Vikings, to modern Kalahari Bushmen. Many cultures considered mead magical, able to bestow wisdom and the gift of poetry, and to be a universal panacea.

Mead, brewed with rice, honey and fruit, was found in Chinese archaeological sites 9,000 years old. It turned up in 8,000 year-old burial chambers near the Black Sea … the tomb of King Midas. Yes, King Midas: the one who turned everything to gold. There is some basis in fact for his golden touch: but that’s another story.

The Vedas, Hindu sacred texts written in Sanskrit almost 2,000 years ago, link mead to the gods, as does ancient Greek myth. Mead was the Olympian Gods’ tipple of choice. Hippocrates, the father of medicine (as in the Hippocratic Oath) used mead brewed with fruit juice as medicine.

Our word medicine comes from ‘mead’; as does ‘honeymoon’. In medieval times the bride’s father gave the newly-weds a month’s (a moon’s) worth of mead. It was supposed to be an aphrodisiac. In actual fact it probably did what all booze does, throws inhibitions to the wind, buggers judgement and leaves you randy. A sure fired winner for begetting the son and heir, despite the fact you had probably never met before, and the bride was probably around eleven years old. (There are so many things wrong with that sentence it does not bear thinking about.)

In Celtic myth the Cauldron of Inspiration held poetic mead, warmed by the breath of nine maidens. One sip made you a scholar and a poet. Historians believe the Cauldron of Inspiration was the original Holy Grail, later incorporated into Arthurian legend.
The Celts thought the chthonic gods (gods of the underworld) had to the power to bestow the gift of poetry. The lord of the underworld, Gwyn ap Nudd kept the pearl rimmed cauldron in his Glass Castle: often associated with Glastonbury Tor, which in those times was an island surrounded by marshes and lakes.

The early Welsh poem, The Spoils of Annwn, says King Arthur took three shiploads of knights to steal the cauldron. Each stanza ends ominously with: ‘only seven returned’. Gwyn’s fortress is named differently in each verse as the Glass Castle, the Four-cornered Castle, the Revolving Castle, the Fairy Castle, as well as the Castle of Mead Drunkenness.

Some of these names hint at a time when the White Goddess ruled. Arianrhod of the Silver Wheel, believed to be the Moon Goddess, lived in a revolving castle bound by the four corners of the earth: the starry heavens turning over the course of the night and the year. Equally she might be the North Star, which does not move at all and around which all others revolve: like a silver wheel.

Olwen of the White Track (her name means white footprints) is associated with the Milky Way. In ancient religions the Milky Way was the road to the gods. In Greek myth it was created from a spurt of milk from the breast of Zeus’ mother, hence its modern name.
In Norse myth, Odin stole poetic mead from the giants. The story goes the gods originally created a wise man called Kvasir by each spitting in a bowl. The name Kvasir means to crush or grind. Dwarves murdered Kvasir and mixed his blood with honey to produce poetic mead: one sip turned you into a scholar and a poet. When the giants took the mead, Odin stole it back.

Before exploring any further, let’s look at alcohol. People believe alcohol is euphoric. It’s not. It’s a depressant. The reason you initially become giddy is because it depresses the part of your nervous system inhibiting behaviour. In larger amounts it leaves you depressed, hence the popular image of the maudlin drunk.

Drunks are loquacious: talkative and garrulous (i.e. talk to anyone). They are also incredibly wise and witty; of course it helps if everyone else is drunk as skunks too. These were signs of divine possession and talents poets boasted of.

It might surprise you to know animals like getting drunk, and not just your dog snaffling your beer. Wildlife cameramen have filmed parties in the jungle when overripe fallen fruit ferments in the heat due to air borne yeasts. The alcohol content is low, but as animals rarely experience it, they have no tolerance.

Like any teenage party, when word gets round all different types of beast come from far and wide to behave exactly like we do: getting giddy before turning into mean drunks. Given animals get drunk there is no reason to think pre-humans and early humans did not do the same. Alcohol and drugs are literally old as sin.

The bee was a symbol of the goddess long before farming: when you might think people noticed it fertilizing crops. Perhaps the bee became associated with the goddess not simply because it appears in spring, but also due to the way mead makes social gatherings swing.
Mead is often produced naturally when water soaks a beehive. Warm days and air-borne yeast create alcohol. Interestingly yeast might be the real reason druids (whose name means oak seer) considered the oak sacred.

The traditional story is druids harvested the sacred mistletoe from the oak. Although mistletoe does not easily grow on oak, yeast does and it is the ancestor of the yeast used today for bread and beer.

There is further evidence of mead being associated with the goddess in the way modern indigenous peoples across the world prepare alcoholic drinks. Remember the tale of the Norse gods all spitting in a cauldron to produce a wise man, whose name Kvasir means to crush, well …

In the Pacific Islands, Kava, a mildly hallucinogenic beverage is prepared by chewing the kava plant and spitting it into a bowl. The Incas used the same method to prepare a corn beer called chichi, used for ritual purposes and consumed in huge quantities during religious festivals. The same practice is still used throughout South and Central America: chewing a variety of fruits, roots and grains such as plantain manioc, agave, cassava and quinoa. The enzymes in spit break down the plant starches into sugars for the yeast to work on.

In ancient Japan a rice wine called Kuchikamizake (Heavenly-being-mouth-saké) was produced by virgins chewing rice. Remember the story of poetic mead warmed by the breath of nine maidens?

Across all cultures only women chew the grains or roots for alcohol preparation. Menfolk maintain when they do the chewing the booze doesn’t taste as good.

There are either two ways to consider this.

Either …

Men are lazy. Yeah, you might have a point. … And good for nothing drunks … Ok, ok calm down.

Or alternatively …

The methodology was already in use before humans migrated out of Africa 200,000 years ago.

Evidence supporting the idea of early hunters and gatherers liking a drink comes from the most ancient religious site in the world. Gobekli Tepe, in Turkey, dates back 12,000 years, a few thousand years before farming- about the same time as the last Ice Age ended. Gobekli Tepe is a temple of carved stone pillars arranged into communal spaces, probably used to celebrate and worship, as there is no evidence anyone lived nearby.

It is believed women gardened for a couple of thousand years before man learned to farm. Women encouraged useful plants to grow at the expense of ‘weeds’ in areas where they settled near the summer pastures of wild antelope herds. Gobekli Tepe comes from this transition period and is only 20 miles away from where wild Einkorn, the ancestor of modern wheat, grew in abundance.

Amid the evidence of feasts (mounds of wild antelope bones), archaeologists found large stone pits containing traces of mashed Einkorn used for brewing beer or more probably a beer-mead mix. It was thought beer came from an accident when early people were making bread. Now many believe it was the other way round.

Gobekli Tepe was occupied for more than 3,000 years before being abandoned, probably because the farming revolution destroyed the way of life its rituals commemorated.

All we know about the earliest religions date from fragmentary texts 5,000 years old. Yet humans, exactly the same as us, have been around for 300,000 years. Meaning for over 90% of our time on this planet we have no idea what people, just like us, believed or thought.
It is easy to see while gods might change, important concepts such as birth and death, day and night, and the phases of the moon marking the return of the sun, rains, herds and the spring would never be abandoned, and neither would the associated celebratory rituals of feasting, entertainment and getting off your face on drugs and drink; and probably getting your leg over to boot. After all, the one thing that never changes in this world is people.

©Paul Andruss 2018

A fascinating look at this drink that has captivated and clearly inspired for thousands of years…thanks Paul

About Paul Andruss.

Paul Andruss is a writer whose primary focus is to take a subject, research every element thoroughly and then bring the pieces back together in a unique and thought provoking way. His desire to understand the origins of man, history, religion, politics and the minds of legends who rocked the world is inspiring. He does not hesitate to question, refute or make you rethink your own belief system and his work is always interesting and entertaining. Whilst is reluctant to talk about his own achievements he offers a warm and generous support and friendship to those he comes into contact with.

Paul is the author of two books and you can find out more by clicking the image.

Finn Mac CoolThomas the Rhymer

Connect to Paul on social media.

Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/paul.andruss.9
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Paul_JHBooks

You can find all of Paul’s previous posts and gardening column in this directory: https://smorgasbordinvitation.wordpress.com/paul-andruss-myths-legends-fantasy-and-gardening/

Thank you for dropping in today and as always please leave your questions and comments for Paul… thanks Sally.

 

Smorgasbord Posts from Your Archives – #Potluck #Poetry – The Sun Welcomes Me by Miriam Hurdle


Welcome to the series of Posts from Your Archives, where bloggers put their trust in me. In this series, I dive into a blogger’s archives and select four posts to share here to my audience.

If you would like to know how it works here is the original post: https://smorgasbordinvitation.wordpress.com/2019/04/28/smorgasbord-posts-from-your-archives-newseries-pot-luck-and-do-you-trust-me/

Today we continue with the series of posts from the archives of poet Miriam Hurdle, who is a regular contributor to the blog. This time I am selecting the posts and the next one I would like to share with you is another of her poems which I know you will enjoy.

The Sun Welcomes Me by Miriam Hurdle

The theme for  Lens- Artists Challenge #12 is Path. This reminds me of some poems I have written about the path I have traveled.

Silver Falls State Park 2018.02.13

We may have decided on a destination or direction to go, but we don’t get to choose the path to get there. It is true in my journey. It was through pain and suffering, travel high and low, to come to where I am at this point in my life. If a time machine could take me back and give me a chance to choose a path, I wouldn’t have chosen a different path. I believe there is a reason for every season.

This poem was written in reflection to my diagnosis of stage IV Melanoma cancer in 2008. I went through six months of harsh chemotherapy treatment, three surgeries, and two months of radiation therapy. After the treatments, it took two years of physical therapy and ongoing exercise to recuperate. My left leg still suffers lymph-edema (swelling) and requires daily exercise and wearing the compression stocking.

But, I’m happy! My physical condition motivates me to go to the gym with my husband and go walking either with or without him!

The Sun Welcomes Me

Journey through high and low
amid worrisome melanoma cancer.
The sense of mortality heightened, with
no assumption of the survival chances.
My prayer was to ask the mercy of the Maker
granting me one more moment to live.
Every new morning was a precious gift.
cloudy or sunny the sky might be,
trotting on the street rain or shine,
even when having no energy to pick up my feet.
hoping to keep up the physical strength
to sustain through six months of harsh chemotherapy.
What a profound gratefulness as treatment fading at the end
when the sun pierced through the clouds to welcome me.

©Miriam Hurdle

 

About Miriam Hurdle

Miriam Hurdle is a multi-genre writer. She writes poetry, flash fiction, and short stories. Her poems are included in Letters to Gaia, Whispers and Echoes Issue 2, Whispers and Echoes Issue 3, and Outcast and More Words.

Music has rooted in her life. Being a soloist as a teenager led her to taking voice lessons and to have ongoing singing engagements. She continues to sing soprano in choral groups. Lyrics have a major influence in the natural flow of her melodic writing. She writes memoir in the form of poetry.

Along with her brother, she took photos when the films were black and white. Photography is still her enjoyable hobby. Drawing and painting were fun activities as a child. Her favorite was to draw a Japanese girl with big eyes, long hair, small lips and chin. She resumed drawing and watercolor painting several years ago. In her poetry collection, photos and paintings are included to illustrate the poems.

She earned a Doctorate of Education from the University of La Verne in California. After two years of rehabilitation counseling, fifteen years of public school teaching and ten years in school district administration, she retired and enjoys life with her husband in southern California.

About  Songs of Heartstrings which has a recent review

Human being has the willpower to travel through an exhausting journey, win a tough battle, and heal a deep wound. Strength from hope keeps us going until the light at the end of the tunnel is in sight and striving until the storm is over.

This poetic memoir comprises themes ranging from the suffering through an undesirable relationship, surviving an aggressive cancer, to the happiness in true love, the joy of parenthood, and gratefulness toward the Maker. Hurdle reveals the honest self-talk and reflects a heart filled with optimism, faith and trust. She illustrates the poems with her beautiful photos and paintings.

One of the recent reviews for the collection

A fantastic collection of honest, heartfelt poetry that takes the readers on a journey through good times and bad. She writes about a health scare that could have easily ended her life. She weaves nature, family, love and faith through her writing. If you love REAL poetry – poetry that moves you, you will enjoy Miriam’s book! 

Read the reviews and buy the collection: https://www.amazon.com/Songs-Heartstrings-Poems-Gratitude-Beatitude-ebook/dp/B07K1S47W9

And on Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Songs-Heartstrings-Poems-Gratitude-Beatitude-ebook/dp/B07K1S47W9

Read reviews and follow Miriam on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17252131.Miriam_Hurdle

Connect to Miriam

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Miriam-Hurdle/e/B07K2MCSVW
Website and blog: https://theshowersofblessings.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/miriam.hurdle.1
Twitter: https://twitter.com/mhurdle112

My thanks to Miriam for allowing me access to her archives… it has been a pleasure to read her posts.

Thank you very much for dropping in today and I know that Miriam would love your feedback. Thanks Sally.