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.)



*** FROLIC AND TITTERING WAIF-FLIES ***

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.

[dht-2011]

[PHOTO SOURCE: Google online images]

BLESSINGS of a new day

(I wrote this tribute to a beautiful dawn, 5 Jul 2011, viewed from my backyard.)

SOME OF MY WORDS

My heart is weightless like a cloud

floating in a bright blue summer sky,
drifting in a warm breeze.

The sounds of the (bird's) Dawn Chorus
fill my hearing. 
The scent of flowers
perfumes the air. 

I'm BLESSED to be alive

to share this morning
as the SUNRISE anoints the day
with promise and hope. 

It's good to 'count our BLESSINGS'

each day and at every meal!  

The New Dawn a reminder

that Our Blessings
should not be taken for granted!

[~ DOROTHY HAZEL TARR dht-2011]

[PHOTO SOURCE: My camera, My backyard at NEW DAWN]

SPRINGTIME in my Garden

                     [PHOTOS SOURCE: my camera—my garden, a "Brandy Rose"]

(I wrote this , 21 Feb 2011, and took some photos, just awed and inspired by the wonders happening in my garden with the arrival of Spring in California!)

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I hear the remembered sounds of a spring

dawn in my garden
 

Bird song tempts me closer to my window—

camera at the ready
 

I thrust back the draperies

to reveal the restoration of my garden in full progress
 

Spring has arrived!

Flower blossoms greet the welcome blessings of sunlight

 

Butterflies flirt on petals

 

Bees conduct honeyed business

 

Hummingbirds anoint and twitter

 

Robins forage and primp

 A WALTZ is played –

the tune, the lyrics, and
the rites of SPRING!

[dht-2011]

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                               [PHOTOS SOURCE: my camera—my garden, "Canna"]

                  [PHOTOS SOURCE: my camera—my garden, "Iris and Petter Pan"]

Emily Elizabeth Dickinson – Dawn and Doors

[Photo Source: My photo, my camera, my backyard capturing a fleeting beautiful Dawn.]

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POEM about 'Dawn and Doors'

(Below is a short poem written by my maternal Cousin Emily Elizabeth Dickinson that I first read 5 Feb 2011.  I have a fondness for poetry and prose that use "doors" and "sunrise" for thoughts and feelings.  A door used with sunrise, to me, means 'beginnings'.  Enjoy this short poem, again or for the first time, and let's see what it means to YOU !!)


Not knowing when the Dawn will come,

I open every Door,

Or has it Feathers, like a Bird,

Or Billows, like a Shore –

[Emily Elizabeth Dickinson, Poem # 1619]

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Emily Elizabeth Dickinson -- (December 10, 1830 – May 15, 1886) "The Belle of Amherst", was an American poet.  Born in Amherst, Massachusetts, to a successful family with strong community ties, she lived a mostly introverted and reclusive life.  After she studied at the Amherst Academy for seven years in her youth, she spent a short time at Mount Holyoke Female Seminary before returning to her family's house in Amherst, Massachusetts.

Although Dickinson was a prolific private poet, fewer than a dozen of her nearly eighteen hundred poems were published during her lifetime.  The work that was published during her lifetime was usually altered significantly by the publishers to fit the conventional poetic rules of the time.  Dickinson's poems are unique for the era in which she wrote; they contain short lines, typically lack titles, and often use slant rhyme as well as unconventional capitalization and punctuation.  Many of her poems deal with themes of death and immortality, two recurring topics in letters to her friends.

Although most of her acquaintances were probably aware of Dickinson's writing, it was not until after her death in 1886—when" Vinnie" Lavinia Dickinson Norcross  (1833-1899), Emily's younger sister, discovered her cache of poems—that the breadth of Dickinson's work became apparent.  Her first collection of poetry was published in 1890 by personal acquaintances Thomas Wentworth Higginson and Mabel Loomis Todd, both of whom heavily edited the content.  A complete and mostly unaltered collection of her poetry became available for the first time in 1955 when The Poems of Emily Dickinson was published by scholar Thomas H. Johnson.  Despite unfavorable reviews and skepticism of her literary prowess during the late 19th and early 20th century, critics now consider Dickinson to be a major American poet. 

SOURCE:    [ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emily_Dickinson  ]

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Tribute to Cousin Emily – A Kindred Spirit


I am honored to share with Emily Dickinson the same many-Great-Grandparents (Moses Payne [1581 England-1643 Massachusetts, USA] and his wife Mary Benison Payne [1585 England-1616 England]); they were my Maternal 9th Great Grandparents and they were Emily's Maternal 6th Great Grandparents.  I feel as a kindred spirit with Emily for we both endured the day-to-day tasks of keeping house while caring for dear ones and making time to pursue songs of our heart.  Emily was an artist and used her genius to write beautiful poems as she used words to weave her thoughts and feelings of nature and life.   

Emily enjoyed the early hours of the day, and wrote many descriptive passages that included imagery of nature, sunrise, birds, and the hopes of what would be revealed in the new dawn.

WHAT THIS POEM sings to my heart

The newest addition to my bookshelf is a book of Emily Dickinson's writings.  It is a wonderful way to spend a few moments in the early hours opening to a random page and letting her poetry flow over my heart as she shares her thoughts on her daily life with poetic observations of time, nature, death, love, hope, society, and dawn.

In this particular poem, I can feel the myriad possibilities and opportunities that are available anew with each sunrise, as a 'new door is opened with the dawn of a new day'.

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