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Posts Tagged ‘This Photo Wants to be a Poem’

I do not live in a cold climate (In South Louisiana it’s cold when the temperature falls below 50.)and most of the time, that is fine with me. But I am fascinated and mesmerized by photos of snow. My friend and fellow Inkling Molly Hogan lives in Maine. She was telling us at our Zoom meeting about her experience photographing in single digit weather. She loves taking photographs of nature. She posted about this experience on her blog post on Tuesday. I “found” a haiku in her post along with an amazing photograph for today’s prompt. You should go to her post to see and read more: Nix the Comfort Zone.

Hoarfrost by Molly Hogan

Winter wonderland
enchanted intricate beauty
bedazzled gratitude

Margaret Simon, found haiku from Molly Hogan’s blog.

Leave a small poem in the comments and support other writers with your comments. Thanks for stopping by.

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I can’t resist a good sunset photo. I don’t think I’m alone in this. A brightly colored sunset reminds us that things will be alright. I saw this wonderful photo on Mary Howard’s Facebook. She often posts sunsets from her new home in Hawaii, but this one is from Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. She happily granted permission for me to use it.

 “I was in Myrtle Beach SC for a SERRRA presentation. Each night I’d walked the beach to get sunset photos. On this day I noticed that I could actually walk under this and it made for a perfect photo. I’m learning to pay attention to my gut!” Mary Howard

Please post a small poem in the comments and support other writers with encouraging responses. I will be posting my own poem later today.

Sun reluctantly sets
in golden glow
sending us a message
of hope.

Margaret Simon, draft

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I read somewhere that the earliest sunset is on December 13th. Did you think, like me, that it would be on Winter Solstice Dec. 21st? After carpool duty, I was walking to my car and saw this beautiful ray of sunlight peeking through the clouds. I noticed the sun was lower in the sky. My school is situated out in the country among sugarcane fields. This single horse only recently appeared in the field next door. At the end of a long day, this scene brought me peace.

Jefferson Island Road

Winter sun slyly slips
lower in the sky
beckoning me to slow down
and be still.

Margaret Simon, draft

Write a small poem in the comments and support other writers with encouraging words. Thanks for stopping by.

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Leave a small poem response to the photo in the comments. Be sure to support other writers with encouraging words.

If you’ve been here before, you know that one of my favorite photographers is a critique partner, Inkling Molly Hogan. Molly lives in Maine and is an amazing photographer. Please take a moment to read her Tuesday post about “gathering calm” through nature.

When I go out to take pictures, I usually have at least the location in mind, which dictates some of what I’ll see. Ocean versus marsh versus river. Forests or fields. Still, there are surprises here, too. I never know what will capture my attention at that particular time. Will the fog call to me, or shadows or spider webs? Will interesting patterns emerge in sand, water or sky? 

Molly Hogan

What does the poet see? What will draw your attention? The ocean waves? The striking bird? The patterns in the sand?

Fledgling tern cries to be fed, photo by Molly Hogan

Hunger…

makes the baby cry
the great owl hunt
the fledgling squeal
Hunger opens our souls
for feeding

Margaret Simon, draft

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Let the photo inspire you to write. Leave a small poem in the comments.

We have had a string of rainy days here in South Louisiana. It happens most summers and helps to regulate the rising temperatures. Some days you feel as though you will never dry out. The air is wet. The ground is wet. Your body is wet.

The grass loves all this moisture and it grows and grows. In a nearby empty lot, the grass is almost as tall as I am. On a recent walk I stopped to look at it. Even the weeds of nature that grow out of control are beautiful. Nature is ongoing, reliably replenishing, and ever growing. Maybe your area of the world is hot and dry. Wash yourself in the lushness of the bayou side.

photo by Margaret Simon

Nature makes no demands.
Listen to the wind through the grass.
Earth’s song in harmony.

Modern haiku, Margaret Simon, draft

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Welcome to my weekly musing. Leave a small poem in the comments and share encouraging support to other writers.

The last five days I was with my mother at her retirement home. I have so many mixed emotions when I visit. I miss Dad who died in April. I have gotten to know many of the residents and staff and enjoy spending time with them. I worry about Mom who has early Alzheimer’s. I am surrounded by childhood memories.

This weekend I was helping to move Mom down the hall to a smaller apartment. My girls and their spouses and toddlers came in on Saturday to help. It was chaos that was efficient. The men moved the big furniture pieces with ease. The toddlers bounced on the bed mattress and played with a basket full of toys and generally screamed as toddlers do. I was grateful for the help. After they left I worked on organizing, culling, and hanging paintings and photographs. By the time I left yesterday, Mom was settled and happy in her new space.

All that is really beside the point of the photo today. In the midst of mayhem and moving, I walked with Mom to Dad’s tree. We had a sycamore tree planted on the grounds. Mom loves going out to visit the tree. It has already grown about 2 feet in three months. It’s not even close to the height of the surrounding pines, but there is something serene and strong about it.

Have you ever planted a memorial tree?

Sycamore Tree in memory of John Gibson, 11/11/33-4/22/22
Summerhouse Beaux Ridge Independent Living

In the face of storms and sun,
you stand, grow, reach
for the heavenly space
where God is good.

Margaret Simon, draft

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Egret by Kim Douillard

Today’s photo is a steal from Kim Douillard’s Instagram. She posted another photo of this bird on her blog for Silent Sunday. The bird is in full dance mode with wings extended. Who is he/she showing off for? Do the cool waves inspire dance? What inspires you?

Write a small poem in the comments. If you are able, return to comment on other writers. I am off to yoga class to give this pose my best effort.

Balance Pose

Give yourself grace
and time to stand still
with wings tucked tightly in
or extended wind-wide.

You are the master of your flight.

Margaret Simon, flash draft

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Rain has returned! It helps cool things a bit. Rather than near 100 degrees, we are closer to 90. Afternoon showers make for cooler morning walks, mid-70’s, Ah! With rain comes resurrection fern. It grows on oak trees and after a good soaking, emerges as a deep green shaggy blanket on the branches of the trees. This oak I passed on my walk greeted me with a heart. Use this photo as a muse for your writing today. Leave a small poem in the comments. Encourage other writers with comments. Thanks for stopping by.

Tree Heart with resurrection fern, Margaret Simon, 2022.

From a sleepy, dry bed,
fluffy green feathers
emerge
surrounding your open
heart…
Resurrection!

Margaret Simon, draft

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I drive the same roads every day as I travel between two schools. Both of my schools are rural, and I’ve come to appreciate the calm of the countryside. This spring the black-eyed Susan wildflowers have been in full bloom. Usually I am on a time schedule and can’t stop to take pictures, but recently as I was passing, I put on the brakes and put the car in reverse right there in the middle of the road. I took this photo. It was a bright sunny day and I took it quickly, but the next day the field had been mowed and all the yellow flowers were gone. I realized I should appreciate the present moment. The old adage “Stop to smell the roses.” What else are we given but this moment right now?

Country barn with black-eyed Susan wildflowers, photo by Margaret Simon

Invitation: Share your own poem in the comments and encourage other writers with comments.

No one can tell you what to do.
You have to be bold.
Some see weeds
where others find gold.

Margaret Simon, draft

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Photographer-Poet-Teacher Kim Douillard lives in San Diego, California. We’ve never met face-to-face, but we are friends connected by common interests. Her photos of the beaches in California are always inspiring. This week I was taken by this photo of a broken sand dollar. Where will this muse take you? Please leave a small poem in the comments and write encouraging comments to fellow writers.

Half Dollar by Kim Douillard

Allan Wolf lost his father on the same day as I did. We had been in communication over a student Zoom visit when both of our lives were interrupted. Allan posted these words on Facebook, “Writing, like loving, is an act of faith. We bury a piece of ourselves and wait for something better than ourselves to eventually emerge.” Then I saw Kim’s photo. It’s all too fresh for me to write about today. Or maybe I’m just too raw. Nevertheless, friends, I leave these thoughts for you to make something beautiful with, as I know you will.

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