Simple Joys

Fresh flowers, new plants, and a finished puzzle makes my heart sparkle ✨💖✨

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Weathered

Weathered

Remembering my youth,

I ponder and wonder…

Where are the blue, blue skies

and that fresh, sweet air-

the watermelon scent

that foretold the coming

of snow- white, white snow?

Where is the joyful laughter

I shared in wind and rain-

that joy of being alive, alive,

as we welcomed wind and rain?

(Shelley A. Wilson- February 25, 2019)

(My friend, the late Bill Wainwright
sent me his wonderful sketch of this
lady some years ago. Bill was a
multi-talented visual artist, musician,
dancer, scientist, and inventor. I wrote
this poem and then remembered his
masterful sketch…Thanks again Bill!)

Fun With Floral Art

Despite time pressures (etc), designing and arranging with fresh flowers and artificial botanicals can be fun. I took this photo of my daughter Alissa when we had an opportunity to work together in a flowershop in 2009. I’m truly grateful for that experience.

Poet By Nature

Poet By Nature

Writing poetry comes as naturally to me as to any bird that ‘sings its songs’ with or without resonating responses.

It truly doesn’t matter to me if my poetry is judged ‘bad’ or ‘good’, read with indifference or not read at all. I’ll keep ‘singing my heart out’ regardless.

It is my nature to explore a range of expressive frequencies, tones and tempos, as well. Sometimes I imagine a poem I’ve written carries like the melodic music of a robin…or the piercing, shrill cries of a hawk… the haunting echoes of a loon… the high pitched piping of an eagle… the electrical pulsations of a hummingbird…the bold warning caws of a crow…the strange tweets of an unknown bird…the distant ‘sound memories’ of a great auk…

I don’t imagine my poems as being ‘caged’. I have learned the rules of educated poetry and grammar, and then happily freed myself of them. Freedom is living divinely. Poetry gives us ethereal wings.

I have no need to ‘sing for my supper’ in cage-like contracts- the modern way of making a living by writing and speaking poetry, especially those called ‘lyrics’. I am deeply grateful to myself for not aspiring to that, while sincerely honouring those who do and those who do it well in my view.

Many years of reading what I perceive as ‘great’ and ‘not so great’ poetry has enriched my life experience here but I prefer to just humbly create my own.

I know with soul-certainty that I have expressed my nature as a poet (whether in male or female form) in many lifetimes. Whatever language used, wherever I am, I will simply write my poetry through many more as I continue to evolve and co-create with my loving Creator- the ultimate source of all poetry, poets, and All That Is.

(Shelley A. Wilson- February 23, 2019)

Kaleidoscope Art

Pink Energy

This is an old photo of pink astilbe that grew in a garden I once had. They radiated such a lovely pink energy. 💖

Everyday Illusions.

Living In A 2 D World

Everyday Illusions

Still Moon Beneath A Tree

UGLY ‘Love’

Ugly ‘Love’

There is a ‘love’ so ugly-

the jealousy-ridden kind.

It isn’t true love at all.

It poisons the heart and mind,

killing our relationships

with ugly fears entwined.

(Religions, Rulers, Lovers,

Spouses, Children, Pets…)

It seeks to ‘own’ another.

(God, People, Animals, Earth…)

This ‘love’ is truly ugly-

the jealousy- ridden kind.

(Shelley A. Wilson- February 18, 2019)

THE WHOLE FAMILY DAY

(The background of this poem is symbolic and intentional.)

February 15th

Valentine

Happy St.Valentine’s Day!

The Tale of Mr. Red Greysquirrel

Oh, I understand. He’s keeping it to himself.

Varied Thrush Visitor

I was finally able to photograph this lovely bird.