Mignarda: ‘When You and I Were Young, Maggie’

“As Mignarda (http://www.Mignarda.com), we typically perform music from the 16th century, but while taking a break from recording the music of John Dowland, we did an impromptu rendition of this lovely old song.” The poem was written for Maggie Clark of Glanford, Ontario by poet George Washington Johnson. George and Maggie became engaged, married, and…

The Breath of the Forest

Ancient Skies   I sometimes forget to walk within my healing, boundaries not withstanding  often preferring the purity of winter, the breath of the forest, and hawk wings balancing on my shoulders. Scars? What scars?       Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies View original post

Sister From The Order Of The Pre-Raphaelites

Lately, I have been delving into the lives of some of the talented women surrounding the Pre-Raphaelite movement, both artists and models, so I am delighted to re-blog this poem by Gwendrina. Published at The Peaceful Pub, “Sister From The Order Of The Pre-Raphaelites” is a poem about “a fictitious member of the group based…

Kyoto Botanical Garden — rlmcdermott

What kind of trees were they that broke the color– all tall and green and dancing in the slow sunlight of an April afternoon? Women in blue kimonos stood beneath the delicate branches snapping pictures digital and bright. Children played, young mother’s strolled, stooped old men finished with their lives sat on stone benches. An…

Lessons from Nature with Wassily, William, and Luda

William Wordsworth’s poem, The Tables Turned, Wassily Kandinsky’s painting Park von St. Cloud -Herbst, and a lovely post by Luda at Plants and Beyond remind us why we need to unplug, venture out, and notice the gifts of nature. The Tables Turned by William Wordsworth Up! up! my Friend, and quit your books; Or surely…

Pools – A Poem by Joe Barca — Vita Brevis

Pools Submitted by Joe Barca   I am but water. The puddle of last night’s shower. I live for an hour or two. Until the sunshine absorbs me. I am the ocean for children in Wellington boots. For earthworms. And for the descent of errant swallows. I am pavement’s liquid memory. I……… Continue via Pools…

Life is real! Life is earnest! – dual personalities

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,    Life is but an empty dream! For the soul is dead that slumbers,    And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest!    And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest,    Was not spoken of the soul….

The Gypsy Roan – The Peaceful Pub

There is a storm gale in her eyes and the stillness of her mane waiting to gust the field in leaf-red motion. Her back carries the weight of my mind — seated light, set to inhale the morning chase. She seeks that strain of abandon I love — a brisk wind enflamed by trees, stories […]…

Smoke and Mirrors – Existential Poetry

Smoke and Mirrors And you, with all your glorious flowering self-deception – your words are glowing embers and your tongue stokes the fire that engulfs me like paper but I think it fills the void inside of you. How does it feel to sleep with the lies you’ve fashioned from the flames? Some may wonder…

John Everett Millais: ‘Mariana’ (1851)

Who is John Everett Millais? John Millais (1829–1896) was a founding member of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, a group of English artists who united in 1848 hoping to renew British painting. They idealized the sincerity of purpose and clarity of form of the early Italian Renaissance artists—before Raphael—finding art that they sought to emulate. The Pre-Raphaelite…

‘Unburdened’ – Brandewijn Words – MORALITY PARK

In silent veracity the falseness Comes alive and steals the night. Dwelling in temerity it ticks and tocks, Takes time from me in gasping gulps of air.   The trigger of one’s validation Slowly breeds anticipation that Builds and builds until it falls Like castles small and made of sand. The raging winds that push…