poems
Poems: February 12, 2015
Rose sent me this poem the other day. It had been sent to her.
Thanks, Rose!
Someone asked me if I knew you.
I laughed, and said, Ha! That’s funny!
I adore that woman!
She’s blessed, caring, loving, sweet, beautiful, a woman of spirit.
And she’s reading this message right now.
I love her!!
Be the kind of woman that when your feet hit the floor each morning the devil says:
“Oh crap, she’s up!!!!!”
Author Unknown
Poems: February 4, 2015
I asked Jeanine Gervais, who lives in the northern Boston area, which has also been slammed with snow, to write a poem about winter for the blog.
Note: a “snow farms,” I just learned are the places (like empty parking lots) where cities/towns are putting snow to get it off the streets.
By Jeanine H. Gervais…inspired by my friend, Louisa P. Enright
It has been snowing for years now
or so it seems
The sky a milky white
warns us
more to come.
Blankets of snow will silence everything.
There is no escape:
TV weathermen with anxious voices reminding us
of record snow fall…school closings…stay off roads
sand and plow trucks have been deployed.
Why do they broadcast TV newsmen
on top of snow mounds,
then too breathless to give reports,
like we need to see snow mounds
we have the real thing.
We have our own snow farms, too.
It takes 15 minutes to put on four layers
the windchill factor minus 17 degrees
to find the mailbox glued shut
but it doesn’t matter because mailmen who deliver in rain, sleet, and snow,
don’t. I miss my mail.
The Boston Globe newspaper tube
a frozen cannoli,
glare ice hides
under baby-powder snow.
I hear the roofs heave,
salt is eating my car.
Friends from Florida and Arizona
send emails
with cute remarks
but that’s okay,
we can take it.
We had to jump off merry-go-rounds,
such a gift.
February 2, 2015
Turkey Tracks; December 6, 2014
Awake!
Beyond the window
Crystal blue winter sky.
A line of wild turkeys,
Each picking its way down the hill
Over the still-bright carpet of leaves
And patches of snow.
The dogs emerge from beneath
The bed covers and nuzzle my face.
The rooster calls from the coop.
We are all hungry
On this winter morning.
Louisa Enright
December 2014
Jeanine Gervais, whom I met and enjoyed on board the J&E Riggin windjammer last summer–and we will sail together next summer (July 20-2)as well–along with friend of long-standing June Derr–sent me this copy of “Desiderata.”
Enjoy!
Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly, and listen to others, even the dull and ignorant; they, too, have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements, as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love, for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore, be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.
Be careful. Strive to be happy.
[Found in Old Saint Paul’s Church, Baltimore, dated 1692]
Turkey Tracks: October 14, 2014
We got a bag of mixed lettuce from our CSA (Community Shared Agriculture) farm, Hope’s Edge, last Friday.
Located just west of me, the farm has had some heavy frosts–though our yo-yo weather continues and today is nearly 70!
So, the lettuce was a welcome treat in our weekly share. This lettuce has…survived.
When one tries to eat within the seasons, lettuce runs out in the fall. I personally switch to lacto-fermented foods, like sauerkraut, when the lettuce runs out. I am so not a fan of the lettuce that gets shipped in here from California in plastic boxes. That lettuce has been gassed and is very old–like about 18 days old. Whatever zip was in it is long gone.
I’ve been savoring my bag of lettuce–knowing that the cukes, the tomatoes, the celery are all nearing the end of their days.
Here’s another poem from Jeanine Gervais, who seems to be in a creative mood these days. She’s eating, likely, what’s left in her garden these days.
My Salad
A Zen Buddhist monk book says
to practice
living
in the moment
say,
“I am washing the dishes
to wash the dishes”
and so I eat my salad
to eat my salad
15 seeds
in tiny halved cherry tomato
raspberry dressing
a pink blanket
covers green leaves
speckled by black pepper polka dots
the white of sliced
radishes
edged
in magenta
a still frame
captured.
By Jeanine H. Gervais
October 11, 2014
Louisa Enright's Blog 