I wrote a Halloween haiku every day for a week in anticipation of the haunty holiday.
7
autumn dewy web silken silver labyrinth tiny fangs tarry
6
fall weather welcomes delicate chills like icy fingers on your neck
5
October howling winds strum bare willow branches werewolves howling too
4
ruby hourglass nestles moonlit poisonous pearls a hundred eggs stir
3
dead, curled leaves crackle feet shuffle in night’s dark veil the wroth witch cackles
2
fog smothers the ground dropped leaves rot and mold, their stench like an open grave
1
bat wings whispering tombstones tumble, a haint weeps bodies rise and lurch
Have a happy Halloween!
This post was possible due to Bette Stevens’ tips and Anthony Renfro’s encouragement. Thanks, you two.:-) Author and poet Bette’s blog: here. Author and poet Anthony’s blog: here.
Find out how to write a Haiku poem & get the kids writing too…
Midnight—our fabulous, furry feline—inspired me to write BLACK CAT, a Halloween haiku (Haiku: a Japanese-inspired three-line: 5-7-5 syllable poetry form) and to design a poster to go with the poem. Kids love illustrating their poems. They enjoy listening to poetry and to reading it aloud too.
Reading and writing poetry is a fantastic way to improve creativity and critical thinking skills for people of all ages. Plus, it’s an outstanding way to foster foundational learning and literacy for children. It’s so much fun to read and write poetry together! The kids will love it and I know you will too. Whether at home or in the classroom writing and sharing poetry is a perfect way to celebrate any season—for any reason!
What’s inspiring you this autumn? Brainstorm your list and get writing. Have fun—don’t forget to get the kids writing too!
Here are some Writer’s Tricks(literary devices found in every writer’s toolbox) I used to create BLACK CAT. These tools can set a mood— they make writing and reading memorable and fun. Check them out and see if you can discover where I used them in my poem.
Read on to find out more about these literary devices.
BLACK CAT
Black cat waits, watches… Stalking tricksters in their webs. Spiders are her treats!
Three 🎃Tricks from the Writer’s Toolbox (Literary devices) used in writing poetry and prose
Assonance Assonance is the repetition of vowel sounds in nearby words.
Consonance Another literary device used by writers and poets is consonance—repetitive sounds produced by consonants within a sentence or phrase. This repetition often takes place in quick succession.
Alliteration You put your alliteration tool to work when words that start with the same sound are used close together in a phrase or sentence. The sound is usually a consonant and the words don’t have to always be right next to one another.
How to find “just the right words” Abundant writing resources are available in print as well as online. Listed below are the two resources I had readily available in the classroom for my students (Grades 4-8). Paperbacks are inexpensive enough to have multiple copies on hand, and in my opinion they are indispensable.
The Scholastic Rhyming Dictionary by Sue Young
Webster’s Thesaurus for Students by Merriam-Webster
I’m delighted to host Balroop Singh—author, friend and poet—as she announces the release of her latest collection. I started reading Magical Whispers last night… As I stroll through its pages, I’ll continue to reflect upon the beauty bound within each penning. Read more about the book and I think you’ll agree, this is a collection that you’ll want to add to your book shelf too! ~Bette A. Stevenshttps://www.4writersandreaders.com
Book Blurb
I wait for whispers; they regale my muse. Whispers that can be heard by our heart, whispers that ride on the breeze to dispel darkness and ignite hope. I’m sure you would hear them through these poems if you read slowly.
‘Magical Whispers’ would transport you to an island of serenity; beseech you to tread softly on the velvety carpet of nature to feel the ethereal beauty around you. The jigsaw of life would melt and merge as you dive into the warmth of words.
In this book, my poems focus on whispers of Mother Nature, whispers that are subtle but speak louder than words and breathe a quiet message.
Each day reminds us
It’s the symphony of surroundings
That whisper life into us.
Balroop Singh, a former teacher and an educator always had a passion for writing. She is a poet, a creative non-fiction writer, a relaxed blogger and a doting grandma. She writes about people, emotions and relationships. Her poetry highlights the fact that happiness is not a destination but a chasm to bury agony, anguish, grief, distress and move on! No sea of solitude is so deep that it can drown us. Sometimes aspirations are trampled upon, the boulders of exploitation and discrimination may block your path but those who tread on undeterred are always successful.
When turbulences hit, when shadows of life darken, when they come like unseen robbers, with muffled exterior, when they threaten to shatter your dreams, it is better to break free rather than get sucked by the vortex of emotions.
Balroop Singh has always lived through her heart. She is a great nature lover; she loves to watch birds flying home. The sunsets allure her with their varied hues that they lend to the sky. She can spend endless hours listening to the rustling leaves and the sound of waterfalls. The moonlight streaming through her garden, the flowers, the meadows, the butterflies cast a spell on her. She lives in San Ramon, California.
Thanks so much for stopping by to meet Balroop Singh and enjoy a peek inside her new book—Magical Whispers. Balroop and I would love to hear from you. May all your days be filled with magic! ~ Bette A. Stevens
Hi, and welcome to theRave Reviews Book Club’s 2020 BOOK, BLOG & TRAILER BLOCK PARTY at Watch Nonnie Write!
Here’s What I’m Giving Away Today
Leave a comment & YOU COULD BE A WINNER!
One (1) $10 Amazon Gift Card
One (1) e-book copy of 🌲 MY MAINE, Haiku through the Seasons 🌲by Bette A. Stevens
# of Winners for this stop: 2
Even with a world-wide pandemic raging, the blessings of 2020 abound…
It’s a Girl!
Thanks so much for stopping by my blog today. As a Maine writer and poet, I hope you enjoy taking a peek inside the state I know and love. It’s a Girl!is a haiku poem about one of the many miracles—the bounty and beauty—that 2020 has brought to us at the farmstead this year. If you haven’t been to the U.S. state of Maine yet, I invite you to add a trip to The Pine Tree State to your wish list. No matter the date or the season, Maine’s miracles are sure to capture your heart and soul. In the meantime, I invite you to watch MY MAINE, Haiku through the Seasons book trailer later in this post to get a taste of what we Mainers are blessed with 365 days a year. Maine, you’ll see, is the way life should be!
As the new year began, I was sure it was going to be a year to remember—and it has proven to be just that.
My perspective has changed on so many things. Hubby Dan and I have been self-isolating since March 12. We order groceries online once a month then put on protective masks and gloves as we head out to pick packages up curbside in a town eight miles north. We only go out in public when we must—for things like medical appointments, and banking. This month we’ll pick up our absentee ballots at the town hall and return them in person to vote in the 2020 Presidential Election.
Here in Maine, our 37-acre farmstead has always been a haven. We grow and preserve a lot of our own food (vegetables and fruit), clean up fallen trees to use as supplemental heat in the wintertime, and spend a lot of time outdoors working, exploring and enjoying the beauty and bounty that the land has to offer.
Miracles abound… Discovering a fawn in the back field was just one of them.
Rolls (I’m making all my own breads and desserts these days) were baking in the oven when Dan burst through the back door and hollered, “Grab your camera and get out here!” He wouldn’t tell me what was up until we gingerly approached a stand of birches in the back field and he pointed down. There in the tall grass (which he had planned to mow that afternoon) lay a newborn fawn. She was beautiful. The moment I was back at the house, I discovered as much as I could about whitetail deer online. I read everything I could find and prepared to watch and wait for the little one to appear with her mom.
Did I say she? You bet!
I found out that the sex of a fawn can be discovered by the shape of the crown of its head. Round for girl, flat for boy. I expected her to be out and about with mama in early July and I walked the field and trails each day to discover as much as I could first hand. By early July, we discovered that she had a twin—they came out each day romping, stomping and entertaining us while mama cautiously watched them from a distance. It’s been a summer of laughter and fun with our two whitetails on the loose. If it hadn’t been for self-isolating during the 2020 pandemic, I would have missed it all!
Thanks so much for stopping by to read about It’s a Girl and take a peek at MY MAINE, Haiku through the Seasons today! I would love to hear what you think. Your comment could make you one of today’s two Giveaway Winners!
MY MAINE, Haiku through the Seasons (Poetry & Photography Collection) by Bette A. Stevens. 150 haiku poems, 49 of the author’s original photographs + interesting facts and symbols from The Pine Tree State.
My Maine…
Staycation in “Vacationland”(One of The Pine Tree State’s nicknames). No need to leave your comfy lounge chair. No matter the season, MY MAINE is a collection of poems and photographs to soothe the soul. Put up your feet, sit back and relax. Let MY MAINE take you away…
Did you know?
In the early 20th century, lumber, textiles and other industries began to leave the state, and the government doubled down on stimulating tourism. In the 1960s, the state adopted a new nickname on its license plates and highway signs: “Vacationland.”
Every year, thousands of visitors from all over the world flock to the Pine Tree State to enjoy scenic vistas, outdoor activities and the unhurried pace of life. But a visit to Maine is more than just lobsters and lighthouses. USA Today
MY MAINE
“A nature-filled land that enlivens the senses and soothes the soul—to me, Maine is poetry!”
~ Bette A. Stevens
Summer Songs
Excerpts from MY MAINE Haiku through the Seasons (Summer Songs) by Bette A. Stevens
Pristine forest lands Rockbound footpaths appealing Seek your solace here
Lady slippers chant Madrigalian ballads Timeless tales reborn
Hubby and I are enjoying a great “Staycation” right here at the farmstead. Confined by the 2020 pandemic restrictions, we’re playing it close to home and enjoying the magic of Maine moment by moment. Wishing everyone a blessed and beautiful end of summer and hope you’ve enjoyed a bit of a virtual Maine summer respite with us. ~Bette A. Stevens
Much of my poetry is inspired by the gardens, fields and woods here at the farmstead in central Maine as well as by the natural beauty and by the people of The Pine Tree State.
Maine pines and people Survivors, resilient souls Standing tall and proud
Pragmatic figures Independence their calling Rugged yet limber
Growing where they choose While rising ever higher Strong limbs branching out
Tempering spirits Amidst the boundless medley Solid, steady, proud
Diversity (A preview into one of Stevens’s poems to be included in her second—”Heaven and Nature Sing”—collection) was inspired by the early June blooms (photograph), a soothing balm after those long, cold Maine winters. One that never fails to enthrall us each spring. The natural world has much to teach us about life and living…
Diversity
by Bette A. Stevens
Splendor of countless pigments
In gardens they combine
Echoing grandiose harmony
Serenity you’ll find
And so it is with people
Of every thought and hue
Diversity’s resplendency
Reflecting me and you
I’m delighted to welcome Jan Sikes back to 4writersandreaders to share a #Mother’sDay piece she’s written for the 2020 RWISA “RISE-UP” Blog Tour!
DEPRESSION SOUP
by Jan Sikes
She stood in a line her head bowed low
There was nowhere to run, no place to go
With clothes that were ragged
And shoes that were worn
There were millions just like her
She wasn’t alone
America’s Great Depression had stolen their homes
Took its toll on their bodies
Tried to squash their souls
But she squared her shoulders, raised her eyes
Fierce determination replaced her sighs
She’d fight to survive, that much was true
Although many times, she’d be sad and blue
Someday there would be plenty
But for now, she was caught in a loop
She held out her bowl
For another serving
Of Depression Soup
Born in Missouri in 1917, my mom, Marian Edith Clark, learned about hardships at a young age.
Her mother, my grandmother, Sarah Jane, was sickly. The household chores fell on my mom’s shoulders when she was still a child. She shared memories of having to stand on a box so she could reach the stove to cook their meals.
My mom blue eyes sparkled, and her smile could light up a midnight sky. She started school in Treece, Kansas. Her family were migrant workers. Anytime they found an abandoned house, even if it was spooky, they moved in. Eventually, they landed in Pitcher, Oklahoma, where her father found a job in the iron and ore mines. She was in the ninth grade when he had an accident in the mines, and she had to quit school to help make a living for the family.
Her father became a bootlegger in Oklahoma. He would often get caught and wind up in jail for six months at a time, leaving the family to fend for themselves.
They eventually moved to Arkansas, where they had kinfolk who were sharecroppers. They picked cotton, and in Mom’s words, “Nearly starved to death.”
When she was around fourteen, her dad took the family to the Texas cotton fields. The whole family could pick, and they would make twenty-five cents for every hundred pounds of cotton.
We found this story written in a journal after Mom passed away.
“My last school was in Walnut Ridge, Arkansas, population around 2,000. We lived two miles out in the country. I went to a two-room school. A man and his wife were both teachers. He taught in one room and her in the other. The man teacher went crazy and tried to kill his wife. When she got away, she came to our house. I’ll never forget how bloody her head was. When the police found him, he had crawled up under their house. So, they put him in a mental hospital.”
The Great Depression hit America in 1929, wiping out any semblance of a prospering economy. It was during that catastrophic era that my mom and dad met in Sayre, Oklahoma. At the time, she was babysitting for one of Dad’s sisters, and living in a government migrant camp with her family.
She was only seventeen, but they fell head-over-heels in love and decided to marry.
Mom had no shoes to wear for the ceremony, and a woman next to them in the camp loaned her a pair of shoes.
On April 14, 1934, they said their wedding vows in a preacher’s living room and began life together.
There were no pictures, no fanfare, no parties, and no honeymoon.
They spent their first night as newlyweds, sharing a bed with some of my dad’s younger brothers and sisters.
Their first home was an old farmhouse with nothing in it but a wood stove, a bed, and a table. Mom had no broom to sweep the floors, and when snakes crawled across, they left trails in the dirt.
Through the years, she shared many harrowing stories of how they survived as transients. They stayed within their family group and moved from the strawberry fields in Missouri, to potato fields in Kansas, to cotton fields in Texas. Often, they had no shelter from the elements, sleeping outdoors under a shade tree. Other times, they managed to have a tent or share a tent with other family members.
Mom and Dad’s life together, began under this umbrella of hopeless poverty.
Hunger was a constant companion. My mom had an older brother who often would go out at night and steal a chicken or watermelon.
Enmeshed in daily survival, they could see no future.
Sometime around late 1934, they moved to Fort Smith, Arkansas not knowing it was in the middle of an epidemic. They were lucky enough to find housing in a WPA camp. My dad got a job digging graves for fifty cents a week, plus a small amount of food. A man working with him warned him to stay clear of the hospital; that no one came out alive.
However, the hospital laundry was the only place Mom found work. Automation wasn’t yet widespread, and especially not in Arkansas, so all of the washing had to be done by hand on rub boards.
A large scowling woman marched up and down behind the workers with a blackjack in hand. If she thought they weren’t working hard enough or fast enough, she’d whack them across the shoulders.
During this time, my mom fell ill with Scarlet Fever and they quarantined her. They kept her in a room under lock and key. My worried dad climbed to her window with food. It became apparent that they had to get out of there, or Mom would die. One night when all was quiet, she tied bedsheets together and lowered herself from the two-story window to the ground, where Dad waited.
They caught a ride to Oklahoma on the back of a flatbed truck, and Mom eventually recovered. They never went back to Fort Smith, Arkansas.
As the years passed, much of my dad’s family migrated to California, the land of milk and honey. But Mom and Dad didn’t go with them due to my grandmother’s failing health, and a younger sister who was inseparable from my mom. They all stuck together. My grandmother passed away in 1942 in Roswell, New Mexico. Pictures show a large goiter on her throat. She died long before I was born.
Mom gave birth to my siblings with help from family and friends. I was the only one to arrive in a hospital setting.
By 1951, the year I was born, Mom and Dad had settled in Hobbs, New Mexico, and purchased a lot on Avenue A. They stretched their tent and immediately started building a house. They put down roots and said goodbye to the transient life they’d known.
Like everything else in their lives, they built our house themselves. A place not too far from Hobbs, The Caprock, had an abundance of large flat rocks. Every day Dad wasn’t working, he’d head up and bring back a load of rocks to cover the sides of the house. That house withstood many storms, and still stands today.
When I was around twelve, I distinctly remember watching Mom climb up and down a ladder with bundles of shingles to roof the house. And she did this alone.
I believe I can declare with all certainty that no two people worked harder than my mom and dad.
Mom was a fantastic cook, having learned from necessity at a young age. She had a sweet tooth and loved to bake. Her specialty was pies. She could make a peach cobbler that would melt in your mouth.
She never measured anything. She’d throw in a handful of this and a pinch of that, and it turned out perfectly every time.
Mom was not a worrier. Her philosophy was, “If I can’t fix it, there’s no need to waste time worrying about it.”
I’ve strived to adopt that same philosophy.
She lived by these seven wisdoms:
Count your blessings every day.
Don’t whine or throw a fit if things don’t go your way.
Take whatever trials God sees fit to give you and make the best of it. Never sit down and give up.
Believe in yourself and your dreams, and they’ll come true.
Love life and live for God.
Hard work never killed anyone. Try your best and don’t get discouraged if it doesn’t turn out the way you first thought.
Treat everyone with dignity and respect.
I didn’t always see eye-to-eye with my mom, as you know if you’ve read my books. But I never forgot her teachings, her strength, and her determination. And for the last thirty years of her life, we were close.
She was the best grandmother my two little girls ever could have hoped for. She adored them as much as they loved her.
I watch my daughters now and see them practice some of Mom’s ways with their own children, and it makes me happy.
So, here’s to my mom – the strongest woman I ever knew.
Thank you for supporting today’s RWISA author along the RWISA “RISE-UP” Blog Tour! To follow along with the rest of the tour, please visit the main RWISA“RISE-UP” Blog Tour page on the RWISA site. For a chance to win a bundle of15 e-books along with a $5 Amazon gift card, please leave a comment on the main RWISA“RISE-UP”Blog Tour page! Once you’re there, it would be nice to also leave the author a personal note on their dedicated tour page, as well. Thank you, and good luck!
Maine officially celebrates its 200th Birthday on March 15, 2020! Find out more about “The Pine Tree State” and help us celebrate all year long with a haiku of your own. #WritingChallenge
Did you know?
Maine (nicknamed The Pine Tree State) remained a province of the Massachusetts Bay Colony when America declared its independence from Britain on July 4, 1776. At that time Maine was not one of America’s original thirteen colonies because it had never been granted a royal charter from Great Britain. It would be decades after the American Revolution and the signing of The Declaration of Independence (summarizing the colonists’ motivation for seeking independence) before Maine gained official statehood.
The Eastern white pine tree helped fuel the region’s economy in an era when shipbuilding and lumbering reigned supreme. The value of those pines actually provided a spark for the American Revolution. Massachusetts didn’t want to lose any of those pine profits it gained after the war, while Mainers struggled for political and economic independence. Maine officially celebrates its Bicentennial on March 15, 2020.
“A nature-filled land that enlivens the senses and soothes the soul—to me, Maine is poetry.”
–Bette A. Stevens
The Power of Poetry
How Readers & Writers of All Ages Benefit from Poetry
Improves Verbal Skills & Memory
Enhances Cognitive Function
Develops Empathy & Insight
Encourages Creativity
Why Haiku…
Inspired by the beauty and bounty of my home state, I write poetry in many forms; but I chose haiku for My Maine to offer readers a collection of story poems and photo snapshots of the unique land I know and love.
I invite you to join me as I celebrate #Maine2020 by submitting one of your favorite photos taken in “The Pine Tree State” and writing a haiku too! I’ll be publishing submissions here on my blog throughout 2020. Simply email me at bettestevens@tds.netSUBJECT: “Maine Bicentennial Haiku.”
How to Write Haiku…
A Peek Inside the Collection
~Excerpts from “Spring Awakenings”~
March shakes the remnants Of sleep from wintery boughs White confetti swirls
Granite boulders rise Above the winter mantle Midway the meltdown
Dark mask shrouds the land Soaking downpour foreshadows Season’s renewal
Rivers spill over While ice jams—slowly melting Weep upon their beds
Pot holes irk drivers As roadways turn to washboards Kids giggle in back
Hills and vales exult Rivers and streams sing arias Mud season arrives
Verdant shimmering Emerald fields bursting forth Souls rise from slumber
Sunbeams composing Springtime melodies, humming Tapping to the tunes
About the Author
Inspired by nature and human nature, author Bette A. Stevens is a retired elementary and middle school teacher, a wife, mother of two and grandmother of eight. Stevens lives in central Maine with her husband on their 37-acre farmstead where she enjoys reading, writing, gardening, walking and reveling in the beauty of nature. She advocates for children and families, for childhood literacy and for the conservation of monarch butterflies (milkweed is the only plant that monarch caterpillars will eat). Stevens has written articles for ECHOES, The Northern Maine Journal of Rural Culture. As of July 2019, Stevens has self-published five books and has a second poetry collection on the drawing board. Find out more about the author and her books at https://www.amazon.com/author/betteastevens
Contact the author at DBS Publishing to order author-signed copies of her books or to schedule a Poetry Event tailored to meet the needs and interests of your school, community group, company or organization, or simply to find out more.
Thanks so much for stopping by today. I look forward to hearing from you. (Comment Section Below)
Maine officially celebrates its Bicentennial (200th birthday as an independent US state) on March 15, 2020.
The Pine Tree State (Maine’s official nickname)—provides a sanctuary for arts and culture—check out these famous Maine people (Arts & Literature) at Maine.gov.
Maine has been inspiring artists and art lovers for more than two centuries and continues to provide a cultural haven for residents and visitors alike. You’ll find a treasure chest of museums and galleries spattered throughout the state. Be sure to check out these “10 Must-See Maine Art Museums.”
Maine is known as Vacationland. From pristine wilderness to pine forest mountain ranges to crystal clear waterways and majestic shorelines, Maine is a perfect place to spend your vacation.
I’m delighted that John W. Howell stopped by to help celebrate Maine’s Bicentennial with a fine piece of Maine art that inspired his My Maine haiku poems! John is one of my Rave Review Book Club #RRBC author friends. I invite you to check out his bio and books— His specialty is thriller fiction novels, but John also writes poetry and short stories. Howell’s John Cannon series rank among my favorite mystery thrillers. ~Bette A. Stevens, Maine author
John Howell: “This is a watercolor by Maine artist John Gable. I bought it when I was on vacation at Kennebunkport, Maine. I had the pleasure to meet the artist and discuss some of his art while there. This painting has been with me since I bought it in 1981. If you would like more information on the artist here is a link to his website—John Gable Fine Art.”
Before the parade, A treasured water color. . . Created in Maine.
Is a physical, Reminder of such good times. . . Which are forever.
The air and seashore, Are still pondered in the heart. . . Someday to return.
About John W. Howell
John W. Howell, author of suspense thrillers, short stories and poetry.
John began his writing as a full-time occupation after an extensive business career. His specialty is thriller fiction novels, but John also writes poetry and short stories. Howell’s first book, My GRL, introduces the exciting adventures of the book’s central character, John J. Cannon. The second Cannon novel, His Revenge, continues the adventure, while the final book in the trilogy, Our Justice, launched in September 2016. The fourth, Circumstances of Childhood a family life story published (2017). The fifth book, The Contract is written with Gwen Plano (2018).
John is currently finishing his sixth novel Eternal Road – The Final Stop, to be published in June 2020. All books are on Amazon in paperback and Kindle editions. The paperback versions are available in the Indie Lector store
John lives in Lakeway, Texas with his wife and their spoiled rescue pets.
How Readers & Writers of All Ages Benefit from Poetry
Improves Verbal Skills & Memory
Enhances Cognitive Function
Develops Empathy & Insight
Encourages Creativity
Bette A. Stevens is celebrating Maine’s 200th birthday as an independent US state on her blog all year long through her new release, My Maine, Haiku through the Seasons(Poetry & Photography Collection). She’s inviting friends and readers to join in the celebration with their own photo and haiku creations highlighting The Pine Tree State.
Whether you’re a Mainer or from away, I invite you to join me as I celebrate #Maine2020 by submitting one of your favorite photos taken in “The Pine Tree State” and writing a haiku too! I’ll be publishing submissions here on my blog throughout 2020. Simply email me at bettestevens@tds.net SUBJECT: “Maine Bicentennial Haiku.”
“A nature-filled land that enlivens the senses and soothes the soul —to me, Maine is poetry.” ~ Bette A. Stevens
Compassion in life is a beautiful thing. But exactly what is compassion? I’ve always thought of compassion as “love in action.” After writing the poem Compassion is a Beautiful Thing…, I searched Google for a definition to share. The synonyms fit perfectly into my preconceived notion for the poem because they not only include love and mercy, each synonym requires action—stirring—on our part to metamorphose the ideaof compassion into the reality of compassion.
Google Search:
com·pas·sion
kəmˈpaSHən/
noun: compassion; plural noun: compassions
sympathetic pity and concern for the sufferings or misfortunes of others.
Stevens has released a poetry and photography collection inspired by Maine’s diverse landscape, natural beauty, rural communities, and independent people. The author’s 150 haiku poems, along with her photographs, reflect the Maine she knows and loves. My Maine, Haiku through the Seasons takes readers on a poetic journey through the state’s four distinct seasons. In addition to its poems and photographs, My Maine includes state symbols and interesting facts about The Pine Tree State.
Welcome to 4writersandreaders!
I’m a writer inspired by nature and human nature. You’ll find great books, authors, writing tips and more right here. I advocate for kids & families, childhood literacy and the protection of monarch butterflies and their habitat.Happy reading & writing!~Bette A. Stevens, Maine author
Balroop Singh, a former teacher and an educator always had a passion for writing. She is a poet, a creative non-fiction writer, a relaxed blogger and a doting grandma. She writes about people, emotions and relationships. Her poetry highlights the fact that happiness is not a destination but a chasm to bury agony, anguish, grief, distress and move on! No sea of solitude is so deep that it can drown us. Sometimes aspirations are trampled upon, the boulders of exploitation and discrimination may block your path but those who tread on undeterred are always successful.
“A nature-filled land that enlivens the senses and soothes the soul
Stevens has released a poetry and photography collection inspired by Maine’s diverse landscape, natural beauty, rural communities, and independent people. The author’s 150 haiku poems, along with her photographs, reflect the Maine she knows and loves. My Maine, Haiku through the Seasons takes readers on a poetic journey through the state’s four distinct seasons. In addition to its poems and photographs, My Maine includes state symbols and interesting facts about The Pine Tree State.
Written
on 10/17/2020