As some of you know, I have not been quite as present on my blog as I used to be as I am busy writing a book. Having written a few chapters, I now …PREFACE TO MY BOOK
Originally posted on The Silent Eye: This may be the final post that I get chance to write for the Silent Eye… that decision has been taken out of my…The Last Post?
This beautiful hymn was written by Charles Wesley. The text was first published with the subtitle “A Child’s Prayer,” in “Hymns and Sacred Poems,” in 1742. The melody was composed by Martin Shaw in 1876.
My arrangement begins with the melody on alto recorder, then a viola and recorder duet, a solo on lyre, and ends with a recorder duet. This lovely melody would be appropriate for a lullaby, as well as this hymn. I hope you enjoy it!
Let me tell theeAbout the nightThe hare and the full moon did collideYou seeThe Irish hareDid ask the moonIf he be fairAnd wise The moon, of course …🌝 The Irish Hare and the Full Moon 🌝
A few months ago I discovered Visual Verse Anthology, they offer a strange image and we, whoever, are prompted to write about it. I tried three times…I’m Offended — Visual Verse.org
Hasty? Quick? Instant gratification? I’ve done enough academic work to know none of these are likely. But is it too much to ask to at least feel some sense of progress, of movement, of actually getting somewhere?
Instead, it’s more like going word-by-word, sometimes letter-by-letter, where each one is some new and unknown struggle. It doesn’t matter how well I know the information, how thoroughly I’ve researched, how complete my outline is, or even how well I write.
Sure, all these things are important, and the work would be so much more difficult if even one of them were missing. But it’s still an ongoing journey through a swamp, a mire, a marsh where the alligators of doubt, second-guessing, and anxiety rear their ugly heads.
I know these gators well, but that does not make their presence welcome! If only they would beat a hasty retreat! But no! They hang around my consciousness, laughing at me, waiting for me to stumble so they can devour me and what’s left of my work–completely and utterly obliterating us from existence!
Except… That is not happening!
I plod onward, forward, upward, until, I hope, I one day reach the point I have seen with other projects… The point from which I look down on the completed thing. This is the point where, I assume, although I can’t see it now, I will say, “Gee, it wasn’t that bad!”
But right now? With inordinate amounts of research, reading, writing, re-reading, and re-writing ahead of me, I can only hope to reach that summit eventually. That is, if it’s still there when I get there!
Meanwhile, I continue my arduous journey, gators and all!
Written for Linda G. Hills
Stream of Consciousness Saturday #SoCS Prompt.
“In every woman there is a Queen. Speak to the Queen and the Queen will answer.”~ Norwegian Proverb. Text and image source: English Literature https:…Speak to the Queen…
when the time comes that time dissolves the lion and the lamb the fox and the chicken will take down their flags and roll up their scrolls they will …lilamoxen
Before the rain they went outside–not to a mountain peak or to watch the tumbleweed blow, but to the fish ‘n chips shop on the tropical islands overseas. They didn’t see a supernova, but he says he saw mermaids. Oh, I wasn’t supposed to say that! ❤
Life on the ship was always moving, especially with a broom or brush in their hands, scraping all the grime and dust bunnies from a ship that, to the seamen on board, continued in service long after its time had passed.
Great volcano in the dark
Talking to the sky
A Haibun about my husband, Frederick Douglass Grimes, III, who served on the USS Haleakala (AE-25), a U.S. Naval amunission ship in service from 1959-1993.
Written for Linda Kruschke's
Haibun Paint Chip Poetry Prompt.
My goats search for a sprig of mint
to calm their bellies before sleep.
The moon walks softly up the horizon,
as the sun sinks below…
On our way down the mountain,
we pass our favorite waterfall.
Forget-me-nots line the path,
reminding us of the goodness of day and the restfulness of night.
The crows have carried the sun away
by the time we reach my garden scarecrow.
Today was like any other herding day,
Tomorrow will be similar,
but different just the same!
Written for Linda Kruschke’s
Idyll Paint Chip Poetry Prompt.