Tuesday, August 30, 2011



(On 30 Aug 2011 — Just thinking about the many perceptions that exist within my logic and Heart; then thinking about the many perceptions of others through Time and the Ages. What is absolute for one in a Time, can be known by a different name by another. "Truth" is but a myth transported by Time and borne on the 'wings' of Eternity.)  

Truth — is as old as God —
His Twin identity
And will endure as long as He
A Co-Eternity —

And perish on the Day
Himself is borne away
From Mansion of the Universe
A lifeless Deity.
[~Emily Elizabeth Dickinson, #836]

"Yet, Truth and God exist on a different 'Plane',
Whence Time and Nature portent."

[~ dht-2011, DNA Cousin of Emily Elizabeth Dickinson]

(SPECIAL NOTE:  Emily Elizabeth Dickinson is my DNA Maternal Cousin)

Saturday, August 27, 2011


(I wrote this, 27 Aug 2011, thinking about the end of Summer and the withering blooms in the garden, some going dormant 'til Spring's awakening, while others gone forever more, lost to Winter's regret. [dht-2011])


Sober Dreams shrouded in regrets still haunt,
with ever increasing frequency,
Transported "Home" in an enduring vision –
quietly sweeping and weeping
through the passageways of my mind.

When the "Fantasy of my Love"
turns to me with a smile,
I see through the haze of my slumber,
Spring's visage of Love's Tender Care.

OH -- for a portal through which one can return,
to a Time long passed and recoup innocence lost,
to revive a Dreamer's Fantasy long ago withered.

Yet tis ever naught, after all,
but a Dreamer's Tisane, a haunting illusion.

Naught but a Withered Dream.


                                     [PHOTO SOURCE: GOOGLE online images]

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

World Within Words – Unraveled

(I wrote this tangle, 24 Aug 2011, while trying to order my thoughts and realizing there are so-o many mysteries in Life's vast Realm that can never be understood, from the hollow pledges of others to the strange 'ports of call in the waters along our Life's Journey'. One thing is constant, though, and that's the 'last port' is the same for all. [dht-2011])

*** World Within Words – Unraveled ***

Day's Mysteries an intricate knot,
Whence attempts to unravel,
Prevail ere unresolved eclipse,
Whence nag Troubled Heart,

Whether confidences of Others,
Shared kindnesses of Kindred Spirits,
Whether hollow pledge spoken,
Or pledge rendered as token,

We yet go forth our Ports of Call,
Whence the Herald's Call,
We know the Tune,
Whence Journey's End looms.


[PHOTO SOURCE: GOOGLE online images]

Sunday, August 21, 2011


In 21 Aug 2011, I was thinking about the poem #1068 written by my DNA Maternal Cousin Emily Elizabeth Dickinson.  There are many documented versions of this poem, and I have posted one version here. 

Since discovering my Family connection to Emily (we share the same many Great Grandparents Moses Payne (1581-1643)  and  Mary Benison Payne (1585 – 1616)),   I have been reading her writings and about her life and times.

Below is a short 'reply' to the poem #1068, that I wrote as if it were to be part of a letter that I would send to Emily.  As I have been reading her writings, I find them affecting me in different ways, and frequently I feel that she is writing to me, for our lives are similar in so many ways.  Anyway, here is the 'reply' that I would include in my letter to her.

"As August cools, Haunting Dreams of wild imaginings burn as blue flames, Memories ripe, cannot Ferment fast enough for the intoxicant Day Dreamer."
[-dht-2011, DNA Cousin to Emily Elizabeth Dickinson]

AND, below is Emily's poem #1068

Further in Summer than the Birds
Pathetic from the Grass
A minor Nation celebrates
It's unobtrusive Mass

No Ordinance be seen
So gradual the Grace
A pensive Custom it becomes
Enlarging Loneliness.

Antiquest felt at Noon
When August is burning low
Arise this spectral Canticle
Repose to typify

Remit as yet no Grace
No Furrow on the Glow
Yet a Druidic Difference
Enhances Nature now
[-Emily Elizabeth Dickinson, Poem #1068]


When also thinking of August, one of my favorite songs comes to mind, "Scarborough Fair", a hauntingly beautiful ballad with powerful lyrics that are larger than a single voice, expressing a special message only the Heart hears.  [dht-2011]

Song History and Lyrics link
YouTube link
Scarborough Faire Canticle - Simon and Garfunkel {SONG and HYMN}

[PHOTO SOURCE: Renaissance Fair 1975 California with my daughter and myself dressed "haute couture"]


(I wrote this, 21 Aug 2011, thinking how the treasures of my memories anchor me in the present, while at times impeding my Day's Journey. Living in the shadows of my past, haunting Dreams of Love, family, home, and passion, flee, leaving only their FOOTPRINTS ON MY HEART.)


Thoughts adrift on Evening's Chill,
Senses teased by memories old.

Each breath increases awareness of environs,
Suggestive of a different path,
Echoes of Future's beckon.

Yet bonds of yesterday hold ransom,
Hampering fleeing memories.

Pains and fears awash the mind,
Whispers of the past surface,
Beneath the shifting sands of Time's Journey.

Abiding sadness permeates Day's Path,
Regrets a constant companion


[PHOTO SOURCE: Cousin L. J. Scott, edited]

Friday, August 19, 2011

The Fabric of our Ever Changing Lives

(I wrote this thinking of the many ways our lives unfold and SOAR with moments of joy that may be misspent or missed altogether, and seen only as reflections through OTHER'S expressions and experiences. Seems SOME are lost to us, yet we spend our Life searching and wondering how the pattern was set before we knew how to set a stitch. How now to gladden a sorrow and sooth a loss?)
Woven of woe and joy,
Designs unique to each life,
Whole united to enjoy.
Each joy a trio of good, two bad.

First New, Warm and Rich,
Then Carrion, Cool and Poor,
First ASCENDING light as a BUBBLE,
Then BURST in Winter's SILENCE.

Simple pleasures bright in our Spring,
Soar in Summer with delight,
Shallow humbly in Fall, and
Shadow in Winter's Solace.

When the wildflowers wilt,
And angels visit,
Regret and Grief,
Stitch the final binding.


[PHOTO SOURCE: GOOGLE online images]

Thursday, August 11, 2011


(I wrote this, 11 Aug 2011, thinking of my Life's Journey as a course with a beginning, middle, and ending, with each port in the course full of joyful and sad memories that I hold close in my Heart, each port in the course holding its unique essence—the whole making up the phases and faces of my Life.)


MEMORIES laced with Joy and Love tease,
as if having a tendresse for my Heart.

A smile of remembrance countered,

a faint melancholia, not wholly concealed.

TOO SOON Spring's Essence

so lush with rainbow delights,
melds into Summer's threshold.

Fall's Bounty yields a Harvest resplendent

at Winter's Tranquil possession.

The course complete—now




[PHOTO SOURCE: GOOGLE online images]

[Photo Notes: CAN YOU FIND ... ?
Look closely at this photo to see if you can find
an elder male in Winter's shroud,
a grim reaper,
a young girl in Spring's delight,
a youth taking leisure,
5 shy Spring observers,
5 shy Winter observers,
a village,
some ships,
and two in a boat.]


(On 11 Aug 2011, I wrote this thinking of all the special moments in my Life that I took for granted at the time of their reign; and now in the twilight of my Life at the last juncture, I look longingly at those passed moments WISHING I knew then what I know now. Perhaps if I make a WISH on a dandelion, the seeds would drift into another dimension where VISITS are permitted to Special Moments—even if only in Day Dreams.)


While Sentiments against a Lavender sky reveal,
the meaning of enchantment commands my senses
with uncustomary frenzy.

As composure challenges the Dimensions of temptation,
strange depths affirm my Fey's Obsession.

Whether in the pale mist of morning,
the heat of Noon, or the cool of the Night,
Mystic Fey Voyagers find nuances in contented accord.

In a place out of time, a small sadness,
long buried surfaces in my Heart,
at knowing I would Never See these Moments again.


 [PHOTO SOURCE: GOOGLE online images]

Wednesday, August 10, 2011


(I wrote this, 10 Aug 2011, thinking of remembered days gone by and yet to come, where the DREAMS and hope of youth were full of sinew and vigor, enough to withstand the frailty of today, if I hold THEM close.)


 In the dark mist of night, my DREAMS are alive,
where sweet Promises of Love and Romance thrive.

 As a welcome visitor, I walk pathways of lore,
where once Life's Promises held treasures galore.

In the light of day, my DREAMS survive,
where day's bitter struggles threaten, yet revive.

 As Tomorrow draws near, I hold dear to my heart,
where once wistful reflections, delayed my start.

In the nostalgia of days bygone, my DREAMS mourn,
where hope's bounty deep, so spent on morn'.

As ever faith in Future's turn, I yearn for that missed,
where museful pondering, render potential's remiss.

[PHOTO SOURCE:  GOOGLE online images]

After the Storm – Come the Tears

(I wrote this, 10 Aug 2011, thinking of the many losses in our life—Loss of youth, health, money, safety, privilege, prestige, respect, honors, LOVE, spouses, children, and family -- as a special tribute to those in my circle who feel their loss so keenly.)


The poetical world is as a lyrical preface to Life's SCRIPT,

where light illuminates the STAGE,
with a jewel-like iridescence,
flickering over the richly embroidered PLAY.

A sadness imbues the atmosphere

with a sense of time and space,
whispering of generations past and lost
and PREVIEWS of generations to come.

The PLAY rages in a tempest at Life's Zenith,

as the Storms of Life forge a Path,
leaving behind loss of Love and Hearth in their wake.

As of a sudden, the Storm passes

and the Tears fall as gentle rain upon the SET.
After the Storm – come the tears.


[PHOTO SOURCE: GOOGLE online images]

Sunday, August 7, 2011


 (I wrote this, 7 Aug 2011, thinking of two little boys -- Grandsons of My Kindred Spirit.)


TWO KINDRED spirits Spinning a Top,
with all earnestness
of apprentices learning an Ancient and Mystical Art.

A World of Wonder and Delights, swirls around them

in a kaleidoscope of Adventure,
in a Magical place where ordinary Cares dare not venture.

As if in a shared Dream, yet apart,

secret Treasures are revealed on imaginations' edge,
where thoughts of the Future mix
with Today's Mercurial Delights.


[PHOTO SOURCE: GOOGLE online images]

Saturday, August 6, 2011


(I wrote this, 6 Aug 2011, on the closing of a beautiful warm summer day, with cooling breezes softly caressing the tender leaves in my Dry World—no rain today!)


IF I were a Mermaid, I would sit on a coral perch
and tend my garden of waterweeds.

Perceptions of the Dry World above  -- Mute,

as the serene waters enclose me in my liquid cocoon.

My Cousins flashing silver among the coral,

as they dance a water ballet to the trumpeting music of seashells.

IF I were a Mermaid -- Safe and Happy

and Content in my Watery World.


[PHOTO SOURCE: GOOGLE online images]

Thursday, August 4, 2011

Frolic and Tittering Waif-Flies

(I wrote this, 4 Aug 2011, as the close of a beautiful day drew neigh, thinking of all the butterflies in the garden that were done with their busy day, and were seeking their rest and maybe some storytelling with their neighbors -- purely fantasy of course.  ‎"... as falling leaves absent tree boughs ... "; this is a poet's way of saying leaves are falling. Takes a bit more thought and attention to "wordsmithing".  With that phrase, I FIRST wrote it in plain English -- "as the leaves fell off the tree branches". THEN, I wordsmith'd it so it would sound more FEY and OLD ENGLISH! (chuckles) Hope you liked it!  IT WAS FUN -- like doing SCRABBLE!   By the way, "WAIF-FLIES" is a name I made up, because I thought "butterflys" JUST DID NOT DO IT for the tale.)


There was a certain warm lavender peace

in the Dawn shadows,
from whence a Fey Dreamer watched unobserved,
as Waif-Flies frolicked
on soft breezes.

Time's gentle hands,  
pause Future's Passage for the nonce,
while the Fey Dreamer eavesdrops
on Their discreet Titterings
in an Auburn Wonderland
enshrined in Autumn's embrace.

Reality's illusions drop away

as falling leaves absent tree boughs,
as secrets are revealed
to Whimsey's delight.


[PHOTO SOURCE: Google online images]