Sarah Hazel | Reflections on the Teche

Posts Tagged ‘Sarah Hazel’

#NPM2018: Star

Posted in Poetry, Writing, tagged ekphrastic poetry, Jane Yolen, Sarah Hazel, septercet on April 19, 2018| 3 Comments »

Star by Sarah Hazel

In a field of bluebonnets,
cockerpoo smiles for the Sky.
Royal Star of prairie grass.

Joy twinkles in his Star-eyes,
Inspiration for Sarah’s
hand to oil majestic poise.

This pet portrait looks just like my childhood dog, Lucky. I was drawn in immediately, but the poem was elusive. When I struggle with a poem, I often turn to form to guide me. This one became a septercet, stanzas of three lines with seven syllables each. Jane Yolen created the septercet.

Words are another hurdle, so I Googled bluebonnets and collected words. The dog’s name is Star, but I decided to also capitalize Sky as if it is a character in the poem. Sarah is the artist, and Joy is one of her daughters. To see more of Sarah Hazel’s art, click here.

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#NPM2018: Spring is Like…

Posted in Poetry, tagged e.e.cummings, Sarah Hazel on April 15, 2018| 2 Comments »

National Poetry Month 2018

Still Life by Sarah Hazel

My good friend, Sarah Hazel, is an artist in Houston, Texas. She answered my call for paintings for this poetry project. You can find her amazing oil paintings here on her website.

I get my inspiration for writing from many places. From Poets & Writers comes The Time is Now with a poetry prompt each week. This week we were prompted to write after e.e. cummings Spring is like. I borrowed the line “Spring is like a perhaps hand.”

Spring is like a perhaps hand
holding high
a watering hose
drenching earth new,
green-blown grass,
soil growing soft
and sensual.

Spring is like
a perhaps hand placing
flowers in a vase
centered
on a plate of green salad,
tall and tender
without thunderous applause.

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Celebrating Friends, new and old

Posted in Celebration Saturday, Writing, tagged celebration, friendship, Sarah Hazel on July 5, 2014| 9 Comments »

Ruth Ayres invites us the celebrate each week. Click over to her site Discover. Play. Build. to read more celebrations.

This story of friendship begins in one of the smallest towns in Mississippi in the early 60’s. Memory is a curious thing. I don’t remember much from age 7 to 12, but I have vivid memories of this time in Centerville when I was 3-5 years old. Sarah and Larry were my brother and my best friends. We must’ve spent every day together. I can remember climbing trees and playing hide and seek. I remember Larry’s fire red hair and Sarah’s wavy black hair. I remember the scent of live oak trees. Vivid memories.

I met Sarah again a few years ago, and we became Facebook friends. We connected and found many ways we are alike. I have 3 daughters in their twenties; she has four. We both have amazing husbands we adore. But more than that, I think when you’ve known someone all your life, something special is there, always.

I am celebrating reconnecting with Sarah. My husband and I took an impromptu trip to Houston. We dropped in on Sarah and her husband Reese, enjoyed hours of wine and cheese. Amazing Reese (this is what Sarah calls him) makes an amazing homemade bread. And then before we left, they broke out the guitar and ukelele and serenaded us. A wonderful blessed evening.

Sarah is a wonderful artist, and she blogs at Finding my Glasses.

Tilly, the wonder therapy dog, comforted us with her presence.

Lifetime friends

That’s Amore!

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Backyard Amaryllis

Posted in Poetry, Writing, tagged amaryllis, Haiku Deck, katauta, Sarah Hazel on April 16, 2014| 2 Comments »

Backyard Amaryllis by Sarah Hazel

My friend, Sarah Hazel, is an artist. She created this beautiful painting yesterday and posted it on her blog (I love her blog title!) Finding my Glasses.

Thinking about the letter K put me on a quest for a kyrielle. The kyrielle didn’t come to me, but a katauta did. Now I’m not really sure how a katauta is different from a haiku. It is a Japanese form with 5,7,5 or 5,7,7 syllable count. The word katauta means half poem. So I’m thinking if a kyrielle is not singing to me today, then maybe I’ll write a half poem.