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Vernal Equinox Haiku by Lorraine Margueritte Gasrel Black


Bette A. Stevens:

Yes… Art, Poetry & SPRING! ~ Bette A. Stevens

Originally posted on Silver Birch Press:

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VERNAL EQUINOX HAIKU
by Lorraine Margueritte Gasrel Black

Bird song on the wind
floral raiment dresses an
awakening world. 

IMAGE: “Blue lady with parrots” by Walasse Ting

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Read Lorraine Margueritte Gasrel Black‘s bio at poemhunter.com.

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Aside

310. Light touches you only to shift into iridescence upon your body and wings. ~Excerpt from a poem by Louise Bogan


Bette A. Stevens:

Exquisite—poetry in motion! ~ Bette A. Stevens

Originally posted on Sacred Touches:

Today I saw the dragonfly
Come from the wells where he did lie.
An inner impulse rent the veil
Of his old husk: from head to tail
Came out clear plates of sapphire mail.
His dried wings: like gauze they grew;
Through crofts and pastures wet with dew
A living flash of light he flew.
~Lord Alfred Tennyson

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What an absolutely exquisite creature!  Such as this winged beauty are so stunningly wondrous that I’m almost left speechless when I see them.  Not only are they breathtaking in form and beauty but they are also valued predators in controlling populations of harmful insects.  And the fact that their oldest known relatives date back over 300 million years ago seldom fails to bring forward for me images of what earth’s pristine splendor must have been like in the beginning.  In addition I find it fascinating that they have been a subject of…

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Intellectuals Urge Leaders from ‘The Americas’ to Protect the Monarch Butterfly


Maine Author/Illustrator Bette A. Stevens advocates for children, childhood literacy and Monarch butterflies.

Maine Author/Illustrator Bette A. Stevens advocates for children, childhood literacy and Monarch butterflies.

Former U.S. President Jimmy Carter referred to Monarch butterflies as ambassadors to The Americas.

What will today’s leaders do?

On Wednesday, February 19th, Mexican President Enrique Pena Nieto, U.S. President Barack Obama and Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper are meeting in Toluca, Mexico to discuss such matters as economic competitiveness, trade investment, entrepreneurship and security. A letter to these three leaders has been signed by more than 150 intellectuals, including Nobel literature laureate Orham Pamus, U.S. environmentalist Robert Kennedy Jr. and Canadian author Margaret Atwood, noting that the Monarch population has dropped to the lowest levels since 1993 when recording monarch data began. They are urging the three leaders to devote part of their meeting to discussing ways to protect the Monarch butterfly. (Modesto Bee 02-13-2014)

In my own efforts to advocate for these amazing and near threatened creatures, I penned the poem, A Monarch’s Dream, based on my children’s picture book: AMAZING MATILDA: A Monarch’s Tale.

Find out how you can help protect our Monarch Butterflies at http://makewayformonarchs.org/i/#

Wikipedia:

The Monarch butterfly (Danaus plexippus) is a milkweed butterfly (subfamily Danainae) in the family Nymphalidae. It is perhaps the best known of all North American butterflies. Since the 19th century, it has been found in New Zealand, and in Australia since 1871, where it is called the wanderer.[3][4][5] It is resident in the Canary Islands, the Azores, and Madeira, and is found as an occasional migrant in Western Europe and a rare migrant in the United Kingdom.[6] Its wings feature an easily recognizable orange and black pattern, with a wingspan of 8.9–10.2 cm (3½–4 in).[7] (The viceroy butterfly is similar in color and pattern, but is markedly smaller, and has an extra black stripe across the hind wing.) Female monarchs have darker veins on their wings, and the males have a spot called the androconium in the center of each hind wing.[8] Males are also slightly larger than female monarchs. The Queen is a close relative.

The monarch is famous for its southward late summer/autumn migration from the United States and southern Canada to Mexico and coastal California, and northward return in spring, which occurs over the lifespans of three to four generations of the butterfly. The migration route was fully determined by Canadian entomologists Fred and Norah Urquhart after a 38-year search, aided by naturalists Kenneth C. Brugger and Catalina Trail who solved the final piece of the puzzle by identifying the butterflies’ overwintering sites in Mexico. The discovery has been called the “entomological discovery of the 20th century”.[9] An IMAX film, Flight of the Butterflies, tells the story of the long search by the Urquharts, Brugger and Trail to unlock the secret of the butterflies’ migration.[10] There is evidence that eastern North American populations of the monarch butterfly migrate to south Florida and Cuba.[11]

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February, poem by Linda Pasdan


Bette A. Stevens:

Lovely images for a February day! ~ Bette A. Stevens

Originally posted on Silver Birch Press:

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FEBRUARY (Excerpt from “The Months”)
by Linda Pastan

After endless
hibernation
on the windowsill,
the orchid blooms—
 
embroidered purple stitches
up and down
a slender stem.
Outside, snow
 
melts midair
to rain.
Abbreviated month.
Every kind of weather.
***
Read “The Months” in its entirety at poetryfoundation.org. Originally published in Poetry (October 1999).

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265. Of the six million species on the planet, only man makes language. Words. What’s more — in evidence of the Divine — we string symbols together and then write them down, where they take on a life of their own and breathe outside of us. ~Charles Martin


Bette A. Stevens:

Ode to writers everywhere… Thank you, Natalie Scarberry at Sacred Touches blog. Your posts never cease to inspire! ~ Bette A. Stevens

Originally posted on Sacred Touches:

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I write because there is nothing larger in life than
To be read, maybe even reread by another–
To be examined and then verified of being
Understood, or trusted like a saint–
I don’t imagine being immortalized
Or stacked in a library for hands with a million
Oppositions to wander through for
Poetic justice either–

Perhaps purpose is purchased or earned or even
Inherited by some mystic right–
But it is my reasoning I hearken to,
All that I am resonates with inscribing, putting down
My Self on the papyrus of today,
Like a manuscript never quite decrypt but
Interesting to the soul’s eye
For perpetual encounter.
~Deborah Jeanne Avila

All the kings of the earth shall praise you, O Lord for they have heard the words of your mouth.  Psalm 138:4  ✝

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Love Month is Knocking!


May your February be filled with love... ~ Bette A. Stevens

May your February be filled with love… ~ Bette A. Stevens http://www.4writersandreaders.com

February is knocking and it’s time to get up and answer the door. That means lots of edits and rewrites for my debut novel, featuring Shawn Daniels, protagonist from PURE TRASH—the short story prequel to the upcoming novel. Since I plan to release the novel this spring, February is the perfect month for me to get out those colored pens (editing) and get that first draft tuned up and ready to share with my first outside-of-the-house editors. Our darling kitty—Midnight—is on high alert to help at every turn. She loves pens, eye glasses, paper clips and everything that glimmers or moves. And, of course, she has to make sure that there’s nothing for her in my tea mug. Midnight was busy playing with her catnip mouse (photos) earlier today— giving a glorious partridge time to munch on some of our delectable crab apples—before she went out for her morning stroll.

I’ll have a Valentine’s Books Giveaway to share with you soon. Meanwhile, stay warm and enjoy the wonderful Month of Love.  ~ Bette A. Stevens

numb of Winters past


Bette A. Stevens:

Ah… LOVE! ~ Bette A. Stevens

Originally posted on who could know then :

Its-a-lonely-man
.
.
for years suspended

.
in the crevice of between…

.
regret or forget…
.
.
.
speaking or silence…

.
numb silhouette safe between

.
love and protection.
.
.
.
shadows disappear

.
in the white of fallen snow,

.
each Spring forgives the
.
.
.
impatient crocus.
.
.
crocus abd bees 2012 001
.
.
Time erases shadows and

.
Love resolves the wounds.
.
.
.

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Remembering Grandma


My Grandma (Elizabeth Babcock) is one of the woman who had a positive and long-lasting influence on my life. She left us many years ago, but her memory lives on in all of us whose lives she touched. My tribute to a great woman and a wonderful grandmother:

Photograph of Grandma Babcock and me circa 1954.

Photograph of Grandma Babcock and me circa 1954.

Aside

Winter Haiku by Bette A. Stevens


Winter Haiku 2014Nature’s beauty is inspirational, no matter the region or the season. Winter 2013-2014 (as of January 8, 2014) has been extremely cold  in Maine and around most of the USA as well. Here in Central Maine, we’ve already had more than two feet of snow, several inches of ice and even some freezing rain on days when the air temperature rose above the freezing point and the rain froze as it hit the ground.  Nature’s winter wonderland beauty is breathtaking; and, the work it requires is breath-taking, too if you want to leave the homestead… HAPPY WINTER! Stay safe and warm. — Bette A. Stevens, MAINE Author/Illustrator

Choose Something Like a Star, poem by Robert Frost


Bette A. Stevens:

Happy star-gazing! ~ Bette A. Stevens http://www.4writersandreaders.com

Originally posted on Silver Birch Press:

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CHOOSE SOMETHING LIKE A STAR
by Robert Frost

O Star (the fairest one in sight),

We grant your loftiness the right

To some obscurity of cloud –

It will not do to say of night,

Since dark is what brings out your light.

Some mystery becomes the proud.

But to be wholly taciturn

In your reserve is not allowed.

Say something to us we can learn

By heart and when alone repeat.

Say something! And it says “I burn.”

But say with what degree of heat.

Talk Fahrenheit, talk Centigrade.

Use language we can comprehend.

Tell us what elements you blend.

It gives us strangely little aid,

But does tell something in the end.

And steadfast as Keats’ Eremite,

Not even stooping from its sphere,

It asks a little of us here.

It asks of us a certain height,

So when at times the mob is swayed

To carry praise…

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