Autumn Leaves
, originally uploaded by Davidlind.
This is a photo from last year about this time. I took it at Maymont Park downtown and thought I would put it up again. Apologies to those who have already seen it. We are still waiting for some autumn color around here. The temperature is supposed to be mid 80’s this afternoon.
It’s a cheerful photo and one that reminds me why I enjoy photography so much.
Poetry is important too. The Boss Poem is just a simple little thing and it is being viewed now over three hundred times per day. It’s not StumbleUpon either. It’s search engine traffic and people are apparently concerned about their relationship with their boss.
That’s not surprising. Job concerns have to be high on a great number of lists these days.
Lots of activities may be cut back. But we can all still blog can’t we? We can write prose and poetry. We can take photos and we can offer encouraging comments to each other.
Taking photos is a lot cheaper when you don’t have to develop film. And everyone already has a computer. Maybe dial ups will make a comeback though.
Maybe the photos should be smaller and fewer to the page.
I don’t know. But the weather is terrific and it’s relaxing to run out into nature somewhere and start looking for the beauty wherever she may be.
It’s a recipe for dealing with the emotions that accompany changing times. Document the changing foliage. Take photos of the clouds.
Update// Well this explains all the readers. . .
Boss’s Day (also known as Bosses Day or National Boss Day) is a secular holiday celebrated[citation needed] on October 16 in the United States. It has traditionally been a day for employees to thank their boss for being kind and fair throughout the year. The holiday has been the source of some controversy and criticism in the United States, where it is often mocked as a Hallmark Holiday. Recently, sites like Hallmark have recognized the holiday with a contemporary spin
from Wikipedia
The Place Beyond the Words
Dawn Rapture
11-dawn-rapture
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The good things begin
When we go beyond the words
Music is the train
That takes us there
Or love
Or a photo that touches the heart
Poetry can do it
Or a twenty mile run
So many ways
We want to go
We need to go.
Sitting here reading these words
Imagine you are standing
Behind yourself
Watching yourself
Reading this
In the place beyond the words.
The Blueberry Fields / Poetry About The Death Of A Loved One
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This is poetry about the death of a loved one. In this case it is my mother who died in 1992. I was taking photos of the James River one day and went back home to get warm and look at them. It was a very peaceful time and as sometimes happens I began to write. The bushes along the river reminded me of something long ago. . .
Mother
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They left you on a shelf
Beneath the bricks and a cloudy sky
As we waited for your date with a field of grass.
The gentleman who dressed you was nice enough
And he rolled you out when I arrived to say “Good-bye”.
You rested in the center of the room
As I recalled the plastic flowers
On our dining room table years ago.
All of us plus Pops and Nana too
Thanking God for all His gifts
And the Sunday meals you made.
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And this as well.
On a beautiful summer day
You put on a white blouse and skirt
And took me to the blueberry fields.
You laughed as I pretended to take a broken drum
Out the door for the berries.
Then you sang a song just for us
As cool breezes charmed my senses
While goodness found mercy
Next to a stream and gave a little boy
A picture that would last until now.
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This morning I went to Starbucks
After watching the river at dawn,
Immersed in making photos with pastel shades of sky
And bushes that seemed blue in the early morning air.
I ordered coffee
To awaken my frozen limbs
And a blueberry scone.
The berries are sweet.
I find them more delicious
Than chocolate
Or wine.
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This Is Just To Say
I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox
and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast.
Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold.
-William Carlos Williams
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Beach Watching/ Mother Nature Arrives
Children laugh long and play under the sun
While waves crash around their happy actions.
And I was out there for a short while too
Watching a babe who was lithe and dark tanned.
When the ocean quite fast zeroed in on its man
And knocked me sideways onto my tender can.
Tumbling around in a large playful wave
I suddenly knew I should try to behave
And struggling emerged from a watery grave
To rest my poor bod in some inviting shade.
“Dear Father”
“Lay us down now
Let us rest for awhile
May the heat heal somehow
And improve our profiles.
The sound of children
Splashing nearby
Mend our souls and make us sane
Before we try to swim again.”
“Amen”.
It’s safer watching them from here.
The radar’s working well this year.
It seeks and finds brief suits defined
Curvaceous thighs victorious smiles. . .
I think it may be time to go
Back to my liquid filled furrow!
But now I feel the need to rest
Sleep slowly does my brow caress
The sound of booming waves assists
And soon I’m gone in dreams of bliss.
Dreaming I’m a little boy
Perhaps of three or four
Playing on the water’s edge
Watching someone smile my way
A presence lovelier than any
Love eyes
You know from your own birth
Those gifts
From God that fill the earth.
She suddenly laughs and tenderly asks
“Did you love the wave I sent your way
My present to you on this wonderful day
As your thoughts were wandering
So very far away?”
Her eyes danced with fire soft starlight too
And her voice endless chimes did excite.
Her image shimmered as morning dew
In a changing gown of pure light.
Then the ocean stilled
As the waves ceased their motion
And all on the beach
Gathered round in devotion.
WHAT?!!
I awoke with a start!
Ran down to the shore
Dove into the water
Looked around for her alter.
No longer hunting for someone fair
With delicious body and long golden hair.
But seeking the love that keeps us alive
And wanting the source of the waves and our lives.
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More poetry from Davidlind
Love’s Aging Moments
For all the different loves there are
I find this one to be by far
The one that keeps me up at night
The one that brings us most delight.It calls to me each time to climb
The tree of passion fruit divine.
Although I sometimes fail to see
The bending grass that waits for me.And yes I sometimes fall from grace
And land upon a softer place.
These things they seem to come and go
Like antlers on a dear old foe.I wish our love could always find
Aphrodite and her shrine
Upon the ocean’s frothy shore
So we could dive and fall no more.
Naked In Eden Blog/ Robin Easton
My good friend Robin at Naked In Eden : Ancient Memories in the Australian Rainforest wrote this about Virginia Breeze and its disorganized captain:
VIRGINIA BREEZE: http://davidnotes.com David’s blog has some of the most beautiful and cherished poetry I’ve read in a long time. It has moved me to tears on more than one occasion. If you enjoy heartfelt honest sentiments that speak of the core issues of our lives then grab a cup of tea, slow down and read some of David’s poems. They are written by someone who feels deeply and has an open heart. You will go away feeling like you know him. They are easy to understand and are mated with beautiful photos. My post this month was inspired by David’s poetry. His writing sets me free and encourages me to be authentic. He also writes about a variety of topics I find interesting, warm, real (and sometimes funny).
You can’t ask for anything better than this in the way of endorsements or morale building moments can you?
Robin is a treasure. Every once in a long while you meet somebody who you feel close to immediately and Robin is one of those people. There is a long list of readers who have fallen under her spell and I am one of them. Her writing is irresistible and she is funny, entertaining and brave.
That last quality I find very admirable. This fine lady lived in a rain forest and wrote a book about her life. Doing those kind of things requires courage.
If we are all unique then Robin is not afraid to share that uniqueness with the world. Why write a personal blog if you are not going to share something that your reader will not be able to read anywhere else? That’s my opinion about blogging and I find that Robin is the perfect example of somebody who does this extremely well.
I hope and pray she will always have time to stop by here for a few moments because I have grown very attached to her in a very short time. She motivates me to continue trying to become a better writer.
I hope you will take time to get to know her too. You won’t be sorry. I promise.
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Have you met someone while blogging you made you feel this way?
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