Mainely Write

Friday.
Poetry.
Yes, please.
Mouse on the movie "The Gruffalo"... you have to see this one if you haven't...mother squirrel concocts a story for her two youngsters, somewhat based on what she's seen that day...the mouse in her story does the same.  Keep a sharp eye out as you watch and listen.  It's a storyteller in a storyteller's tale, all based on things they have seen that day.  The more you see it, the more you see.
This is my 4 year old granddaughter's picture of the mouse.  She sat and studied him for awhile, and I watched her as she looked back and forth from tv to paper and considered his shape, features and color.  She had a few attempts before this one, that I wasn't aware she'd done until peeking in her notebook. You can see here, her continuous line for the body and the 3-D legs (both sides, not just sticks)

My poem to a Gruffalo and friend:

Imaginary Fiend?
the imaginary Gruffalo came to eat me, don't you know... he's …

It's the day after Thanksgiving already?  It's hard to believe.  Time has gone by rather quickly sometimes and at others very, very slowly.  It's all a matter of where my focus lies at the moment, I guess.  I am grateful for many moments that keep me focused on the important things in life.  Like this.

I'm spending time with my grandchildren this month.  My 4 year old granddaughter is with me while her brother is at school, so we have some time of drawing, writing, music and dance.  One day this week we came up with this picture.  She draws most all of the time on her own, but this one day she wanted to combine our drawings into one scene.  So, we each drew rabbits and she drew mice...then she wanted me to draw a fence...

Behind the fence she added a little girl with yellow hair peeking over it.  Soon the little girl's mother showed up.  The mother is much taller, of course.  Granddaughter's green birds are flying past, a ball has been tossed in the air (it was…

I apologize for not being everywhere all the time, but soon I will be again.  I catch moments of fleeting time and try to make sure I am still writing and posting, but not quite as regular as I usually am.  I SHALL return.  Please bear with me.  These were all posts from my FB this week - apologies to those who have already read them.  Again, freshness will resume soon!

Stage

Wispy strains of music afloat softly call to Butterflies released from fluttering inside. Wings on her toes, light as leaves on a breeze, She flows leaping into their flighted dance.
by Donna JT Smith


Homeward Bound
There are roads that take you somewhere, lanes for you to roam; There are highways heading east and west, and some ways take you home.
Your eyes scan far horizons where road aligns with sky, And then it dips away again before another high.
Sinuous and soothing go the ribbons through the fields, And every stop amid the peace reminds our hearts to yield.
Hold the air, the soil, the sun - warmth before the cold…