Q2Ink - The Studio

Below you will discover bits and pieces of me - some things, I'm sure, I'm completely unaware of myself at this writing.  I've always been reserved - quiet - shy.  Writing helps me to be more open and better express things that have waited years to appear on paper or here on the web.  I believe the following poem from "By Fools Like Me" expresses it best.

The Artist's Canvas

The artist's challenge

is to transport you

to an imaginary place

a twinkling of time

a minuscule moment

inside the chambers of her mind

not yet visited, even by herself.

You journey there together

peeling away layers of disguises

that ultimately reveal

the very essence of its creation

the artist's soul.

27 Apr 2008  

Proud to be a writer.

That's how I feel

this morning. 

My heart is full, grateful to the many new friends Patrick and I met on Saturday at NCAP's Book Extravaganza

and happy to see old friends, fellow writers and poets.  It was an inspiring day. 

Thank you.

Reasons

God grants us seasons

and the time.

Poets praise His reasons

with their rhyme.

Home

The hills and hollows of the beautiful Appalachians — my home — home of my mother’s people — home of those West Virginia families who wrote psalms to Aspen and Willow — families who sang hymns to Elm and Sycamore - trees with huge hands that clap and dance in harmony with banjo and harmonica — where spirits of loved ones long passed still remain, unable to leave the beauty and wonder of heaven here on earth.

God's Love 

Like fragrant glycerin

God's love shields you

with invisible armor.

Ode To My Favorite Poet, Rod McKuen

Chansonnier*

      Laureate that you are, kind sir,

your sultry songs sing of playful seasons

of jasmine and huckleberry wine.

     Now, Winter wraps your soul in ermine,

warms your memories with sweet cognac

and loses your heart to cats dancing

deep within the wood-burning hearth.

      When Spring comes courting, you toss

your silver locks behind your head,

tie them loosely with bright scarfs

kick off your shoes

and join her in the dance.

      Summer finds you napping on warm,

shifting sand,

soaking in RA's healing rays.

She sees you swimming naked

under the pier, even when the moon is full

and dives in after you.

       And when Autumn rushes to you,

as all autumns do, you smile the smile

of one who’s felt it all before,

fling open windows and doors,

invite her in to dance and sing

and love and weep till the last remaining

leaf drifts from the tree,

       ... and when all is spent, your

heart returns to me.

       — Mary Lenore Quigley

*shahn-suh n-yey: a singer or writer of chansons (a song, especially a French one). A cabaret performer who specializes in songs that combine melody and rapid spoken patter.

Author's Note:  For years, Rod McKuen was in hiding, felt he had nothing more to give his loyal fans!  Can you believe that?  No more movies? No more songs?  No more poetry? Broke my heart.  And then someone told him about the Internet!  Glory Alleluia! Please, visit his webpage and experience Rod McKuen's poetry - he will touch your heart and brush your soul - guaranteed! 

Click on my LINKS page above to access his website!