A writer inspired by nature and human nature

Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

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

Category:

Nature, Photography, Poetry

Tagged with:

numb of Winters past


Ah… LOVE! ~ Bette A. Stevens

dear occupant's avatarwho 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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Category:

Nature, Photography, Poetry

Tagged with:

numb of Winters past


Ah… LOVE! ~ Bette A. Stevens

dear occupant's avatarwho 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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Category:

Nature, Photography, Poetry

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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.

Category:

Maine Author, My Poetry, Poetry

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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

Written

on 01/09/2014

Choose Something Like a Star, poem by Robert Frost


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

silverbirchpress's avatarSilver Birch Press

Image
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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Category:

Poetry

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ANGEL DEAR


Poignant… Prayers for those you have lost a little angel. ~ Bette A. Stevens

http://www.salpa58.wordpress.com's avatarThe Writers Desk

Image

ANGEL DEAR

By Patricia Salamone

Littlest angel ever so near

my heart is weeping, can you hear.

I held you in my arms

and felt your breath upon my cheek,

I gently kissed your face, you were just so weak.

Your little hand held mine, your face was so divine,

 I looked into your eyes, you looked back into mine.

 As your life ebbed away and the night turned to day I held you close to me,

you reached your tiny hand up and touched me with a sigh,

you smiled a little smile for me as if to say goodbye.

Littlest angel ever so near my heart is weeping, can you hear.

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Category:

Poetry

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Haiku


ENJOY… I love this haiku! ~ Bette A. Stevens

journeyintopoetry's avatarPoet's Corner

Blossom on a tree
and it’s almost Christmastime
doing her own thing

xmas star and blossom 016

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Category:

Poetry

Aside

MIDWEEK POETRY: End of the line.


Poignant poem of epic proportion… We must not forget. ~ Bette A. Stevens http://www.4writersandreaders.com

Written

on 11/26/2013

198. Autumn is the dim shadow that clusters about the sweet precious things that God created in the realm of nature. ~Northern Advocate


A perfect pairing! ~ Bette A. Stevens http://www.4writersandreaders.com

Related articles

 

nataliescarberry's avatarSacred Touches

That soft autumnal time…
The year’s last, loveliest smile,
Thou comest to fill with hope the human heart,
And strengthen it to bear the storms a while,
Till winter days depart…

Far in a shelter’d nook
I’ve met, in these calm days, a smiling flower,
A lonely aster, trembling by a brook…
~John Howard Bryant

Image

In autumn the Maker’s pigments turn from the soft pastels of springtime to emboldened, jewel tones.  Glad witnesses are we to the green leaves on shining sumac, flowering dogwoods, Bradford pears, sweet gums, Shumard oaks, and crape myrtles changing to mixtures of burgundy, crimson, orange, and gold.  Other treats are setting buds for next year’s blossoms among the fiery red, ripening fruits of the dogwoods, and the deeper shades of blues and pinks that adorn the thickened petals of hydrangeas.  And if that is not enough to make the year smile, there are the willow…

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Photography, Poetry

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