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| | A Bedtime StoryPage 99 of 103 (63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, 100, 101, 102, 103) | Brizo it's always nice to see you have come to visit and with a poem too! That one was felt very close to home. Thank you.
Rambling Thoughts
Sometimes life forces us to reach a turning point in our lives
What once was comfortable and secure
Has changed because of the recession
And the world spins faster and faster
Catching you off balance
A fish out of water
Lost identity
But I have found a ladder, a new stepping stone
It appeared out of nowhere
Giving me hope that dreams are a possibility
The chance maybe to go back to school
Go back to my dreams
The road I had wanted to travel from the start
So with baby steps I climb one rung at a time
Towards achieving a purpose again
One that is all my own
With the support and encouragement of my family
Once when I was only a little girl I was asked
“What do you want to be when you grow up?”
And the answer was always the same – a teacher!
So if all is approved by the higher forces that be
I will be back at school as the same time as my twins
Maybe this time asking them for proofing and ideas
I have my fingers crossed. | |
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| A Bedtime Story
Posted: 7/13/2009 10:22:47 PM | the age of ridicule commenced long ago
as it was rotund, and a cycle,
the age of meaning commenced recently,
and as you know, it allowed concourse,
withing willing subjects, both related and unrelated, and divine,
so that owls, arctic seals, were considered,
from afar, just like our parents thought, impeccably,
once and for ever of us before we were born.
NOw there is no separation of species, nor habitats,
and I ban GMO in my mind.
Family is a feeling, and the enemy of family is bureaucracy (robin fox) | |
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| An Adventure
Posted: 7/17/2009 9:31:15 PM | Thunder, lightening an umbrella of anxiety
Stretched across the skies to New York City
Grant me peaceful thoughts
Of those I am about to see
And soften the love I leave behind
Holding it warm in my heart until my return
I don’t like feeling uneasy
Joining the clouds – I love to fly
All will be well in the morning
As the city appears
The face of Walter Cronkite
His spirit hovering over the crowds in Manhattan
Paul McCartney rings out in the new stadium
If only I could go - sigh
A poetry reading in Central Park
Sharon Olds and friends gather
A mother I am who wants everything perfect
My 25 year old my adventure planner
So Paul and Sharon won’t be at the top of their list
Coney Island and a comedy night in the village
Shopping in Soho – a dinner in little Italy
How much will my Canadian dollar last?
It seems outlandish to be unemployed
And jetting off into the sunrise
With my baby in tow
The two of us have never travelled alone
So much like me at 18
This is a chance in a lifetime to kidnap one of the twins
And discover the world through their eyes
The big apple awaits
As do my expectations. | |
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| An Adventure
Posted: 7/17/2009 10:04:26 PM | | oh, Sharon Olds....maybe she'll surprise you with it... | |
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| An Adventure
Posted: 7/27/2009 7:58:52 PM | Adventure on the Mysti-Cal~ Part I
A time to think, she promised
As we set sail from Waupoos Bay
On a sunny morning in July
The gulls circled overhead as
The graceful neck of the Mysti-Cal
Stretched as a swan in flight
With only the universe and our synchronicity
To unfurl the day
We were blissfully unaware of the anomalies
Hidden in logs of sunken ships
A forgotten journal - the mysterious history of the Marysburg Vortex and Wilbert Smith and his inexpensive Anti-Gravity Proximity Detector*
Our course was charted for Main Duck Island
(Dead Duck Island if you prefer or Dead Bone Island as I fondly named it)
Our destination for the night to drop anchor and sleep beneath a swollen canopy of stars
Sitting cross-legged
On a padded seat on the rear deck
I held my breath as the sails flowed through me
And the waves nudged the haul to and fro
A cradle rocking the innocent being
Inside each of us
Releasing stress
Away from everything
Back to nature
Soaking up the easy banter of Raven and Dave
(Our captain on this voyage of discovery)
Our approach was perfect
As we glided past the old lighthouse
No scene more tranquil than that of gentle waves
Lapping against the midsummer coves of our pastoral oasis
It took several tries to secure anchor
On the east side of the island
Our protection from the threatening weather
A squall watch was in effect for the evening
Still time to explore the island
And have dinner before battening down the hatches.
To be continued…
*Speculation about a mysterious "Marysburgh Vortex” area including Main Duck Island. Google it!
“Wilbert Smith: (an actual person) designed several inexpensive gravity devices (ie.Anti-Gravity Proximity Detector, Magnetic Deflection Detector, EMF Collapse Collector); noted gravity anomolies (ie."reduced binding" in the atmosphere above the lake; described as pillar-like columns, 1000ft across extending into the atmosphere; invisible and only detectable w/sensitive equipment; related to the reduction, or weakening, in the nuclear binding forces of matter; nuclear binding forces seemed stronger in the north than the south) throughout the Lake Ontario area; Smith theorized that when weakened nuclear binding forces encountered matter under stress (ie.airplane in flight), the forces holding the matter together ceased to exist, resulting in material disintegration;
This story attempts to explain the alleged mysterious floating ships and sailors' accounts of seeing ships that no longer existed, as well as many other unusual occurrences. It has even been thought by those interested in the paranormal, that these could be intermittently operational gateways to alternate dimensions.”
A special thank you to Ravencause for taking us on this adventure! | |
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| An Adventure
Posted: 7/27/2009 10:14:46 PM | Adventures on the Mysti-Cal ~ Part II
*“More important, this end of Lake Ontario appears to be the focus of an unknown, invisible vortex of forces that not only erupts intermittently throughout these waters but, at times, spews out an invisible cloak to encompass and cause disasters in other parts of the Great Lakes, the regions surrounding them, and even the skies above.” ~ Google it
The dingy was lowered as Raven, the two Dave’s and I
Set off for the island shore
Quite deserted – illusions of a ghost island
That once housed rumrunners in the 1920’s
This intriguing paradise sees few people now
Its inhabitants a variety of wildlife
As I was about to discover!
Limestone cliffs and pebbled shouls
Greeted us as we jumped down on solid ground
I wondered if my body was still under the spell of the waves
And motion of the boat, but I gingerly stepped over the rocks and pebbles
And wandered off by myself for a minute, quite steady on my feet
Raven picked up unusual shells and stones
While the men talked
It was in that moment of peace where you feel the most comfortable
Letting the mind go as it absorbed the colours and textures of fauna and the water
As it sings inside you
I did catch a few words from the conversations going on around me
Someone uttered poison ivy
My intenna came up out of my muse
And I returned for a botany lesson on shape and colour of leaves
You would think that after all these decades of living on this planet
I would have some recollection of poison ivy
By this time the flies were nipping at my ankles
And wondered if it was an old wives tail that flies bite just before a storm?
I looked down at my red ankle wondering if I was having a reaction to a bite
And realized that indeed I had stumbled into poison ivy and one leaf had brushed my leg
Leaving a leaf shape welt
Live and learn
Tending to my hurt ego
I heard a commotion coming from the other side of the bush
I had pictures in my mind of wild roses or blueberries covering the path
Then the dreaded word snake – get the camera
Come, come see
Like hell I was going to wander pass poison ivy
To see a snake the size of a rattler in my mind
My imagination had quelled any curiosity I might have had
To bond with nature
There is a difference between soft fluffy animals, exotic bird
And snakes, but after glancing at the pictures I know I made
The right choice for me
*Northern water snake – this aquatic serpent is the largest snake
currently found in these waters and can grow up to 140.5 cm long
Good thoughts wonderful thoughts
Mind over body
Warm breezes – deserted island
Swimming?
I sank my ankles into the shallow water
Not even dreaming these things can swim
We didn’t know what kind they were at the time
(and yes it was they – perhaps 10?)
I checked when I arrived home
And they will hiss and bite if cornered!
But they are not poisonous
Autumn Fantasy turned Summer obstacles
Small town/city girl thrown into the wilds
By dear friends who I adore and trust explicitly
With my safety and a loving partner
Who would save me always
Ten striped snakes
Nine dead bones
Eight poison ivy
Seven snapping turtles
You get the picture
This island doesn’t like visitors
And who am I to disregard the wishes
Of my fecund host?
I didn’t hear the cries of dead sailors that some have claimed to hear
Or I may have walked on water
All the way back to the Mysti-Cal
No hike through abandoned paths for me
To see the lighthouse and other structures
Still standing – beacons of angels passed
Fit for a Queen
*In 1941, the island was purchased by John Foster Dulles, Secretary of State under President Eisenhower. Dulles often plied these waters with his sailboat and fell in love with the island, building a small cabin on one of the highest points of the shoreline, overlooking Schoolhouse Bay. He cherished his time alone from his political career, often retreating to his island paradise to fish and rough it in his own private wilderness. Today, only the sculpted chimney and stone foundation remains, the trees now fully mature and towering above the site, a white spruce, probably planted by Dulles himself contrasting against the bur oaks, hickories and ironwoods that dominate this island.”
“It was on this same beach that Queen Elizabeth and Prince Phillip, while on a Royal tour of Ontario in 1984, decided to have a private picnic. Well known for her spontaneity on Royal tours the Queen decided the island looked private enough for the impromptu visit. There were only three people on the island, one of them the lightkeeper for the historic lighthouse just west of there, built in 1913.”
On the return dingy ride, bailing water
Winds starting to pick up
Dark clouds hovering like waiting vultures
Aliens in the sky
The deck was heaven
The delicious scent of dinner cooking in the gally
We passed the pipe and dined on roast chicken and chocolate
Giving thanks to the mother
(And Raven who cooked the lovely meal)
Sipping coffee, munching on dark chocolate
A little sleepy from fresh air
We listened to the melodious sounds
Of a guitar and our captain
As he played us a tune
This was being here now
Awareness of our place, ourselves
Languishing peace
Time to forget the sextant, the compass
Time to prepare for the gathering storm clouds
And my first night on board this ship of dreams
Will be continued…
*Ghosts of Main Duck Island Past, Terry Sprague | |
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| An Adventure
Posted: 7/27/2009 11:32:50 PM | Adventures on the Mysti-Cal Part III
The Storm
The pungent scent of fish assailed my senses
The short wave radio crackled out warnings
From the coastguard of the squall bearing down upon us
You could taste the electricity in the air
The boat was rocking now in steady rhythm
Dark ominous clouds hovered over the island
With intermittent flares of lightening piercing the horizon
Pelting down rain filling the awning like a pregnant woman
About to give birth
We huddled under the tarp
The night watch charged with energy and ozone
Fingers of darkness reached down to touch the diminishing sun
Setting in the west with eerie caricatures given life
By our growing imagination
Shapes blended into cloud formations
Holding the red sun
The angel of mercy passing the torch to the
Two beady eyed creature who peered out from the alien body of charcoal
Thunder echoed off the water and the cliffs
I didn’t feel apprehensive but excitement
As I carefully avoided anything metal aboard ship
Grasping onto wood for support
The waves were unusually quiet
As the sky burst open with the egg hatching
The last glimpse of the sun
Night, oh beautiful night
Formed spectacles of breathless proportion
We couldn’t sleep until it was over
Leave our watch
Alone – sleep was a distant fallacy
We were at the mercy of the hands of Thor
But not afraid.
To be continued… | |
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| An Adventure
Posted: 7/28/2009 10:04:40 AM | Adventures on the Mysti-cal Part IV
The Conclusion
The body was tired but the mind sparkled
Charlotte Bronte wishing her window
Would open wider
To allow the poetry to filter through
Our berth was in the front
Rectangular in shape with a portrait of Aslan
Over the bed
(Do you remember “The Lion, Witch and the Wardrobe”?)
Aslan guarding the hold from unwanted spirits
I laugh when I think of peeing in the head
Who would have thought a toilet would be called a head?
When the waves are up it feels like you are riding
The carousel in an amusement park
Or on the plane as it lurches and you find yourself hanging
Onto the basin for dear life or lose your grounding
But we are on the water
After a storm
And the stars did poke their tiny heads out of heaven
To greet us after all
David without telescope equals no calculations
Or measurements, or alignment checks
This was being in the moment
Floating on the Milky Way
With the distant rumble of sulking thunder
The crash of surf on the far shore of the island
Magic, sweet grass - all magical to my moonchild head
A summer fantasy conceived from friendship
Hatch was down for the night to keep out mosquitoes
Flies, snakes, snapping turtles, oh yes and rain
I mustn’t forget rain rejuvenation
Why hadn’t I gone swimming?
Something inside told me another time
I could have stood up on the berth in my cabin and allowed half my body
To escape outside through the hatch
A window to another dimension
To feel and experience and write in my head
I felt like a child at Christmas unable to sleep
But forced myself to snuggle up to David
And meditate on the movement of the boat
The boat does whisper at night
The creak of the unknown submerged thoughts
Anomalies, I remember that word from the navigational charts
Areas of whacky compasses – Dave had tested Ernie earlier
(Ernie the large compass by the ship’s wheel)
A shiny metallic circular head
Put a flashlight up close to his face to see if north is north
A gravitational force of magnetic alignment
I like the anomaly theory better
Much better then the magnetic pull of a flashlight battery
Sending gauges spinning
I’m suppose to be asleep
Everyone else is and my mind is drifting
Gently in the current
Wondering if I would bond with the movement
Let it pick me up and rock me to sleep
It must have because I slept until 10:30 the next morning
Fresh air does that to you and I will stick to that story
If David has another one just tell him to bite his tongue
He understands me and lets me be me, but he will tease the hell out of me if given the chance and says I am easy to tease
Boys will be boys and they will show off, stand on their heads
To get a laugh and attention
Including goat’s milk on my cereal – shut up David!
It’s better not to tell me
Keep words out of it, let it just be
Past life transgressions
Not sure where I came from
But I think I know who I am today
I almost forgot – when I awoke the first thing I did
Was to open the hatch and stand up on the berth
With my head completely out the window
Arms outstretched reaching for the universe
Hair blowing in the wind and the smells
Those glorious smells of water and freshness
You’re not going to get that in the city
So soak it up now
Let the sun sparkle off your hair, through your eyes
Witness the gulls floating in the sky
And the shimmering sun crystallizing on the water
Heaven I had gone through the wardrobe door and entered heaven
As explorers must have witnessed it each day
Over on dead duck island a golden eagle
Was joining us for breakfast
Its massive size reminded me of an animal crouched over its prey
Now I know why so many bones are scattered across the stones
The eco chain working as it should
I wish I had put the long lens on the camera
But perhaps it was best not to pry
Just accept what is
There really is nothing more to say
Sails hoisted in the dying wind
The lighthouse a reminder of man over machine
An old house boarded up and empty now
With the ghost of its inhabitants long gone
An old wreck just off the coast
I have tried to find out if it was the C Hickox
An old barge that caught fire and sunk on August 25, 1917
Not far from where we were moored, but so many ships went down in that area – 50 at least in close proximity to Main Duck Island
“In its variety of mysterious events this region outranks anything found in the Bermuda Triangle, the Hoodoo Sea, or any of the other so-called zones of mystery in other parts of the world.” *
“The only sound that came from the strangely silent ship was the uneasy creaking of her timbers as the long swells from the lake nudged her to and fro, swaying her masts like giant crosses.” *
Under the careful eye of the lighthouse
Flying back to Waupoos
I felt like a princess on the water
Slightly removed from the hands on bustle
Of sailing a boat
It was selfish of me I know not to help
But 3 sets of hands were sufficient
I knew that at the end of my journey
A field of sunflowers awaited me
Glorious sunflowers saying adieu
With their knowing smile
It was time to return home
To the kids and hundreds of pictures
On the camera and a poem to write
Or a story poem
Of dear friends, gentle souls
Who allowed me to dream
Encouraged me to be real
I had been over the Marysburgh Vortex
The arcane marine graveyard
The Bermuda Triangle of Lake Ontario
Totally oblivious to the history
No words could possibly describe the feeling
I trusted Raven’s intuition that this wasn’t an evil place but an island that wanted to preserve its heritage untouched.
I don’t know how to end this tale properly
I have never been good at endings
Perhaps I should just say that we had been in the hands of a guardian angel without the dubious – Anti Gravity Proximity Detector or Wilber Smith’s folly.
The only UFO I saw was the sun sprouting two eyes and a long tail
A tadpole designed by the creation of the Mother and the seeds of the Father.
The End
* The asterisk denotes passages written by Googling old shipwrecks off Main Duck Island and historical references of the Marysburgh Vortex. | |
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| An Adventure
Posted: 7/28/2009 2:12:14 PM |   Magnificent writes my friend! Sounds like you had a Magical time!
hugszzz jules :)  | |
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| An Adventure
Posted: 7/28/2009 4:48:55 PM | | Thanks Jules it was a lot of fun. | |
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| An Adventure
Posted: 7/31/2009 10:33:20 AM | Antithetical New York
I tried to find the stars
In a miniature backyard in Queens
The telescope was still at home
Focused on M13
I sat inhaling and languishing
Lost in my perception of privacy
The one I live for every day
But in a city of millions
Even the Hari Krishna
Have built a tiny corner of reality
I longed to stop and listen
But couldn’t jump off the moving sidewalk
Someone’s finger was pressed down hard on fast forward
Or my daughter’s legs have stretched beyond a destination in a New York subway
The pigeons told me to slow down
But I was tied to my guide on an invisible leash
Stop! I want to taste
The flavour of each street corner
But to do so I had to remove myself
From the crowds and hover in an imperfect sky
How many tombstones can grow in one place?
Or grave diggers peddling their souls
I wonder if they can see
Over the structures of commerce
I will have to name this my filial experience although
I whispered discretely to my one way ticket home many times
Clenched in my fist - escape to wide open spaces
Beside birds who don’t have to beg for a living.
(first posted on the penguins thread) | |
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| An Adventure
Posted: 7/31/2009 10:34:55 AM | Sailing with Ravencause on the MystiCal
I’m going sailing
A thousand islands
Bleeding into the sunset
Friendship in a poetical reunion
Of sisterhood and a pipe filled with peaceful wonder
Just two old hippie children grappling
With space aliens, poetry and wine
I’m sure the guys will set our course
As the crow flies.
(Posted on Brizo's) | |
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| An Adventure
Posted: 7/31/2009 10:36:17 AM | There are times I want to be alone
Completely, utterly alone
People stare at me as if I’m crazy
My heart sings in silence
(Four Lines) | |
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| An Adventure
Posted: 7/31/2009 10:41:09 AM | I would like to think she is graceful and vibrant
Her supple branches, puppets in the wind
Dancing radiantly for her creator
It doesn’t matter much
What she wears
For it’s not the colour of the leaves
The hue of her bark
All is beautiful, all divine
From a tiny seed setting out on an adventure
Free from the shadow of its father
A quest begins through fields and flowers
Following lakes and streams
And perfect manicured lawns
In a magazine
A wild English garden
The loneliness of a hilltop or a craig
When her time comes she must fall from the sky
And take a chance on destiny
A weary traveller
Looking for God’s clean earth
To set down roots
And propagate the cycle
We give them names of ash or sycamore
Willow or elm
There are no boundaries
Just sunlit gardens of Eden
Wind kissed moors
Naked woods
The air we breathe
The shade we so long for
The earthy smells
And blossoms
And myriad armies grown
To fight off the walls of colonization
To a child it’s simple
As he reaches up to touch the sky
Pulling fruit and nectar
Flying high with crow’s nest and swing
A tree quickly becomes part of the family
I hope we never have to say goodbye.
(Posted on Wooby's thread) | |
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| An Adventure
Posted: 7/31/2009 10:44:27 AM | | Love the new photos... you look great and (so does Krow)! I know the Thousand Islands well. I'm certain it was beautiful! Have you bought your new school backpack yet? | |
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| An Adventure
Posted: 7/31/2009 10:44:51 AM | An Ominary day on the pond
As summer catapults
Past city streets and garbage piles
Blood sucking mosquitoes, vagrant rats dumpster diving
But by now you are gone on country roads
Your bike becoming an extension for your passion of living
The pull of youth now strong in your veins
As you conquer distance
And restlessness
To be living life not dreaming it in type
It doesn’t have to rhyme
The meter is the roar of the engine
And somewhere I’m sure there is a smile
On your face a mile long.
(Posted on Om's Psalms) | |
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| The Age of Innocence
Posted: 8/4/2009 8:43:49 PM | Tucker, Stella & Penny
If only they were given a fighting chance
Born too soon now two of the three are gone
Only Penny remains in her isolette
And she has so many problems of her own
One pound 3 ounces and 12 inches long
Born at 23 weeks to a couple who so wanted children
Why did they have to be born so early?
Why does it hurt so much to think about it?
I followed their blog for a week now
Watching these little miracles grow outside the womb
They were born crying which was a blessing
They had lungs to breathe
And a family who welcomed them with loving arms
Triplets – one boy, two girls
I find it difficult to pray
Prayer never worked for me
What will be, will be
What will be, will be | |
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| The Age of Innocence
Posted: 8/7/2009 9:02:30 PM | Bringing it home...
A Moonless Night
The art of seduction
Lost in a hurried pace in a world too selfish to comprehend
Originality draped with attentiveness
Spontaneity - a park bench in the middle of the night
The obscured lamplight frolicking with
The falling leaves and metaphors
Caught in this moment of semi consciousness
A fly struggles in a web
Beyond caring about propriety
Senses saturated in the thick heady scent of trees and falls illusion
The sultry air purifying, electrifying
A moonless night of ghosts
As the thickening fog flirts with the surreal patterns in the sky
And the sublime melody of crashing waves
Hitting the shore one churning swell at a time
The heartbeat of a tiny fox out on the prowl
Oblivious to human folly
Alone in the darkness. | |
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| The Age of Innocence
Posted: 8/9/2009 10:52:07 AM | I’m helpless as my child suffers silently
When confronted by the cruelty of life
Life has donned the robes of death
And gathered in a sterile room
Waiting and
Witnessing a private moment
Of tenderness
Little girl this isn’t suppose to happen
I reach out to you with words
But they are all wrong and cannot be anything more
It’s the feelings now
Meeting with the universe
And blessing this miniature babe
Cradled in her young parents hope
For the family they so yearned
Three little dollies robbed of breath
Leaving hearts barren and confused
Little girl this isn’t suppose to happen
I close my eyes and send you all my love
But it is not enough
I know it’s not enough. | |
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| The Age of Innocence
Posted: 8/9/2009 11:00:24 AM | oh no..I hope I read that wrong..
The little fighter didn't die too did she? | |
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| The Age of Innocence
Posted: 8/9/2009 11:49:37 AM | Penny the last of the triplets just passed away in her parents arms. Life is just so unfair! | |
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| The Age of Innocence
Posted: 8/9/2009 1:07:08 PM | Yeah, that doesn't have any race, creed, or color.
I've analyzed it to my current insanity.
Life is just unfair.
And then I recall the time back in my youth, when I used to go over on
sundays with my neighbor who owned the one horse town gas station..
and he let me pick any ice cream in the cooler that I wanted.
And my other neighbor let me ride on the fender of his old tractor on
the way to the farm. He's the one who taught me to swing with noone
pushing me. Taught me to pump my legs. Kept bugging him while he was
trying to do stuff. He was out of pushes.
His wife, my neighbor and second grade school marm..
life long mentor
said that he belched of indigestion and died.
I didn't know what that meant and I didn't cry.
He just wasn't around anymore.
I miss him today, maybe even more.
He taught me how to swing.
There is just no explaining some things.
Two ropes hooked onto a board tied onto a tree.
"you've got to learn to pump your legs"
he's the one who taught me gardenin'
The gas station neighbor who is also gone now
along with the rest of the town
told me something that has always stayed with me
"some horrors are just disguised blessings"
There are no words.
I'm sorry. God's speed.
look towards the new spring.
Some things that are bad happen for the good.
there ain't no words, darlin.. There just ain't.
Sorry for your loss. | |
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| The Age of Innocence
Posted: 8/9/2009 1:14:38 PM | | My deepest condolences Autumn! So very sorry for your loss! And Dog is right! There aren't any words! Please accept this virtual hug! | |
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| The Age of Innocence
Posted: 8/9/2009 2:17:59 PM | “What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly.” .... Richard Bach
I'm so sorry Autumn | |
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| The Age of Innocence
Posted: 8/9/2009 2:34:30 PM | | Autumn, I'm sorry that your daughter had to go through this...to think that children's death was common a hundred years ago...*shudders* | |
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