Tag Archives: Poetry

Love Light Glow

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This poem by Athey Thompson reminds me of the book I like so much, The Bowl of Light… https://enchantedseashells.com/2022/12/15/what-im-reading-the-bowl-of-light/

She held within her hands
A forever glowing light
Filled with love
O how it shined so bright
And everywhere she did go
Whether it be near or far
She left a little
Of her delicate, loving light
For everyone’s
Delight - Athey Thompson


In my own little rose-colored fantasy world, I wish I was wearing a sheer gossamer gown with butterfly wings so that I could share love and sparkles with all the flowers.

Artist unknown

Sunday Vibes

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I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree. –Joyce Kilmer

I looked up from weeding the veg garden at green leaves and the bluest sky kissed by the sun. There’s a bird singing somewhere in there but I couldn’t locate it.

Had to snap a pic before this ash tree loses all its leaves for the season in the process called abcission. I wrote about that here: https://enchantedseashells.com/2020/11/20/the-process-of-abscission/

#SundayVibes

Tick Tock, It’s the Autumnal Equinox

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It’s cooling off even here in Southern California and now we can anticipate (or dread) shorter, darker days, to give us plenty of time for self reflection on the passage of time.

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The Falling Leaves
Today, as I rode by,
I saw the brown leaves dropping from their tree
In a still afternoon,
When no wind whirled them whistling to the sky,
But thickly, silently,
They fell, like snowflakes wiping out the noon;
And wandered slowly thence
For thinking of a gallant multitude
Which now all withering lay,
Slain by no wind of age or pestilence,
But in their beauty strewed
Like snowflakes falling on the Flemish clay.
by Margaret Postgate-Cole (1893–1980)

I had to add this melancholy Nat King Cole song and just noticed he and the poet have the same last name. How cool is that coincidence!

And another version by Frank:

To Light The Way

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How, It only takes
One precious little soul
To light the way
For so many of us, to see

A Little Poem by Athey Thompson

A true artist, Athey Thompson strips language down to what is most moving and emotional, at least for me. There is abundant beauty in its simplicity. Her words deeply resonate.

Remembering September 11, 2001 | Twenty-Two Years Later

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I woke up this morning to a glorious blood-red sky.

It was about 6:30 or so, and I realized what day it was.

This was about the same time, twenty-two years ago, that I had taken my first sip of coffee and turned on the news to learn that the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center had been crashed into by hijacked jets.

I woke up my son and while we huddled together watching TV, there were other reported terrorist attacks on the Pentagon and a crash in Pennsylvania.

The September 11 attacks of 2001 caused the deaths of nearly 3000 victims and nineteen hijackers. Thousands more were injured and long-term health effects have arisen as a consequence of the attacks.

This sky is a poignant reminder of that tragic day.

William James Collins is an American poet who served as the Poet Laureate of the United States from 2001 to 2003.

The Names is his poem about 9/11.


Yesterday, I lay awake in the palm of the night.
A soft rain stole in, unhelped by any breeze,
And when I saw the silver glaze on the windows,
I started with A, with Ackerman, as it happened,
Then Baxter and Calabro,
Davis and Eberling, names falling into place
As droplets fell through the dark.
Names printed on the ceiling of the night.
Names slipping around a watery bend.
Twenty-six willows on the banks of a stream.
In the morning, I walked out barefoot
Among thousands of flowers
Heavy with dew like the eyes of tears,
And each had a name --
Fiori inscribed on a yellow petal
Then Gonzalez and Han, Ishikawa and Jenkins.
Names written in the air
And stitched into the cloth of the day.
A name under a photograph taped to a mailbox.
Monogram on a torn shirt,
I see you spelled out on storefront windows
And on the bright unfurled awnings of this city.
I say the syllables as I turn a corner --
Kelly and Lee,
Medina, Nardella, and O'Connor.
When I peer into the woods,
I see a thick tangle where letters are hidden
As in a puzzle concocted for children.
Parker and Quigley in the twigs of an ash,
Rizzo, Schubert, Torres, and Upton,
Secrets in the boughs of an ancient maple.
Names written in the pale sky.
Names rising in the updraft amid buildings.
Names silent in stone
Or cried out behind a door.
Names blown over the earth and out to sea.
In the evening -- weakening light, the last swallows.
A boy on a lake lifts his oars.
A woman by a window puts a match to a candle,
And the names are outlined on the rose clouds --
Vanacore and Wallace,
(let X stand, if it can, for the ones unfound)
Then Young and Ziminsky, the final jolt of Z.
Names etched on the head of a pin.
One name spanning a bridge, another undergoing a tunnel.
A blue name needled into the skin.
Names of citizens, workers, mothers and fathers,
The bright-eyed daughter, the quick son.
Alphabet of names in a green field.
Names in the small tracks of birds.
Names lifted from a hat
Or balanced on the tip of the tongue.
Names wheeled into the dim warehouse of memory.
So many names, there is barely room on the walls of the heart. -- Billy Collins

Silver Linings

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Full of #gratitude and being #grateful with a poem by one of my favorites, Becky Hemsley, to help dispel any lingering Saturday blues and also because it’s too hot to stay outside.

Photo of Big Sur by Enchanted Seashells

When the ocean waves engulf you
And there’s water all around
And when you feel you’re in so deep
You might as well swim down
When the forest’s looming darkly
And you can’t see your way through
When the trees are overbearing
And they’re closing in on you
When every path is dangerous
And treacherous to tread
And you decide to stop
And stay forever lost instead

Well…

I hope the sea is sapphires
That buoy you with their blue
I hope they shine a little
Of their precious light on you
I hope the forest prides itself
On all its emerald leaves
And helps you see your brilliance
Through the darkness of the trees
I hope your paths are gilded
And are lined with golden hues
Where ruby roses grow through grass
That shines with diamond dew
I hope you feel the sunshine
And the warmth that it possesses
I hope you see the way the clouds
Are shining at their edges
‘Cause there’s richness in the darkness,
When you’re lost, beneath the surface
There’s treasure waiting for you
And I promise you it’s worth it
So don’t give up or in
‘Cause pressure builds a precious stone
You’ve everything you need
And you are stronger than you know
So please keep going up and through
Keep walking, swimming, climbing
And keep on searching clouds for silver
Sewn into their linings
—Becky Hemsley

Photo of Big Sur by Enchanted Seashells

Shoreline in Black + White | Embrace The Shadows

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I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,
And what can be the use of him is more than I can see. 
--RL Stevenson

This haunting photo of the ocean is a total mystery. I don’t remember where or when I snapped it, but it’s intense.

I can certainly relate. I’m working on the shadowy crevices between total darkness and the love and positivity that shines a light into the murky gloom.

Embrace and make peace with our shadow with a lot of love and self compassion.

Melancholy September

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The mournful song of my little dove reminded me of a poem by Becky Hemsley.

She walked along the pathway
And she hadn’t walked for long
When she met a little bird
Who sang a melancholy song
She listened for a moment
To his sad, enchanting sound
And she asked him why he sang his song
When no-one was around
“I sing to tell the forest
That the day has just begun
And I join the morning chorus
As we’re welcoming the sun
I sing so all the other birds
Will know they’re not alone
And I hum to all the trees
To help their leaves and branches grow
I sing for all the creatures
As they go about their day
And I whistle warnings to the sky
That clouds are on their way”
But why,” she asked him gently
“Is your song so bittersweet?
Why does it sound like longing
And like yearning when you tweet?”
“I sing to feel less lonely,”
Said the tiny, little bird
“And I tweet into the quiet
Just so I can feel heard
For when the sun is busy,
When the other birds have flown,
When the trees are climbing skyward
Then I’m left here on my own
And I sing to ask the questions
That are tearing through my mind
But I don’t know what I fear the most
Silence… or the reply”

Becky Hemsley

Celestial Phenomenon | August’s Second Full Moon

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Awakened by the gentle shaking of a not-too-big earthquake at 1:05 a.m., I’m continually reminded about the depth of energies we can’t control — like earthquakes, hurricanes, solar storms, and planetary influences.

Knowledge is power, and while I can gather candles for an impending loss of electricity, I also can anticipate somehow being affected by the potency of August’s second full blue moon so it won’t be a complete surprise.

Photo by Frank Cone on Pexels.com

“How many ways can you describe the sky and the moon?” —Toni Morrison

Conjure up the magic
And there it shall be
A sky full of wild dreams
For all to see
A little poem by Athey Thompson

The Pisces Full Moon on August 30, 2023, is not just a celestial phenomenon but a conduit for spiritual growth. By engaging with its energies, we not only enhance our spiritual pursuits but also align more harmoniously with the cosmos.

When we witness the second Full Moon in a single calendar month, it’s referred to as a “Blue Moon.” Such celestial events are not only spellbinding but are also as rare as they sound, gracing our skies merely once every two and a half years or so.

The appearance of a Blue Moon isn’t just about its rarity; it’s an astrological nod for us to sit up and take notice.

What does having two Full Moons within thirty days signify? It pulsates with a potent energy of release, overcoming of past traumas or shedding psychic burdens that weren’t our responsibility to bear in the first place.

During this Pisces Blue Moon, the dance of the planets is equally noteworthy. Mercury, Venus, Saturn, Neptune, Uranus, and Pluto will all be in their retrograde phases.

With the nurturing and gentle vibrations of the Pisces Full Moon, the exploration becomes even more profound. This period will be marked by heightened intuition, dreamscapes revealing more than they typically do, and clearer cosmic signs guiding our way.

And in these silent, magical moments, don’t be surprised if you feel the comforting presence of departed loved ones or ethereal guardians guiding and watching over you. spiritualify.org

Hang on!!!

RIP Lolita

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Heaving mountain in the sea,
Whale, I heard you
Grieving.
Great whale crying for your life,
Crying for your kind…

Song of the Whale — Kit Wright

The last surviving orca of the infamous Penn Cove captures of 1970 is dead.

Lolita is dead. In my opinion, she was murdered; a long, slow, painful death.

When will humans stop abusing other living creatures for MONEY?

The blood is on your hands, Miami Seaquarium.

Earlier this year, the Seaquarium announced plans to return Lolita back to the the waters of the Pacific where she could spend her final days. The decision came after years of pressure from animal rights groups to allow the aging orca to spend her final days swimming freely in her natural habitat.

But months later, Lolita remained at the aquarium. The Dolphin Company, which owns
the Seaquarium,  said that the orca would be relocated sometime between October 2024 and April 2025. (NPR)

I can’t even verbalize how angry I am at the humans who did this to Lolita. She was so close to finally being reunited with her family and experiencing freedom.

What makes me even more outraged are the ignorant comments on the aquarium’s website, thanking them for “loving” this orca, and how beautiful it was to see her. IT WAS NOT BEAUTIFUL. It was a total and complete travesty. So very wrong.

Lolita (also known as Tokitae), the most famous orca in captivity, and the subject of a decades-long, global movement to retire her to a seaside sanctuary, has died at Miami Seaquarium. While reports of her deteriorating health have peppered the media over the last several months, this is no easy news to accept.

The Seaquarium stated that during the past two days, Lolita “…started exhibiting serious signs of discomfort.” The aquarium went on to say that while her medical team began treating her condition, “…she passed away Friday afternoon from what is believed to be a renal condition.”

“There is something inherently obscene about a magnificent creature such as Lolita dying in a concrete STADIUM. This is going to continue until people stop buying tickets. There is no other way.” ~ Ric O’Barry, Founder/Director of Dolphin Project

On August 8, 1970 at approximately four years old, Lolita was captured from the waters of Penn Cove, in the state of Washington. It was a violent capture, where five whales drowned, including four babies. This young member of the L pod of the Southern Resident killer whales was sold to Miami Seaquarium, a marine park located on Biscayne Bay, in Miami, Florida for $20,000 and in the following month, was shipped across the country to her new home.

Her “home” would be a concrete tank, known as the “Whale Bowl”. Another orca at the facility, Hugo, would eventually be moved into the tank alongside Lolita, where they performed their daily routines. For ten years, the two orcas shared the Seaquarium’s spotlight. Despite mating, no offspring was produced.
(Curated from dolphinproject.com)

While Lolita may never experience the freedom she deserved, her legacy will continue to inspire us to push for a world where animals are treated with compassion and respect. Her story will forever remind us of the urgent need to protect our oceans and the magnificent creatures that call them home.https://www.savelolita.org/

There isn’t one single word to describe the unspeakable wrongs that were done to Lolita for fifty years, but I can think of a few…repugnant, vile, abusive.

Lolita should be swimming with her family in Puget Sound. On behalf of the human race, I’m so very sorry.