Bette A. Stevens, Maine Author

Cee’s Odd Ball Photo Challenge: Week 30

Odd Ball Photos are those great photos that you take which really don’t seem to fit into a common category.  We’ve all taken them and like them, because we just can’t hit delete and get rid of them. This week, I have but two little entries.

Me and my shadow … and my joyous happy-feet red Fit-Flop clogs. The poem has been one of my favorites since I was a very young child. The shoes are rather more recent, but favorites nonetheless.

MY SHADOW

BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON

I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,
And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.
He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;
And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.

The funniest thing…

“Songbirds”
Painting by Susan Bourdet
From wallcoo.com

singing their verses
perched upon figures of speech
passerine poets

“I want to stand as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all the kinds of things you can’t see from the center.” Kurt Vonnegut

Is This Your Son

There was a child

Who grew in height

He became a man

Who wanted to fight

To keep us safe

And speak for us

I cried as I watched

Him get on that bus

The days ticked by

Life seemed to stand still

I know my soldier

Is fighting over that hill

As a mama I must say

How proud I am

Of who he is

And how it began

I am standing here

Touching the photo frame

Tears touching glass

No I hold no shame

For this is my son

He is my only one

I give thanks today

For Memorial Day.

Written by,

Terry Shepherd

05.23.2014

All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful,
The Lord God made them all.

Each little flower that opens,
Each little bird that sings,
He made their glowing colours,
He made their tiny wings.

The rich man in his castle,
The poor man at his gate,
God made them, high or lowly,
And ordered their estate.

The purple-headed mountain,
The river running by,
The sunset, and the morning,
That brightens up the sky;

The cold wind in the winter,
The pleasant summer sun,
The ripe fruits in the garden,
He made them every one.

The tall trees in the greenwood,
The meadows where we play,
The rushes by the water,
We gather every day;–

He gave us eyes to see them,
And lips that we might tell,
How great is God Almighty,
Who has made all things well.
~Cecil Frances Alexander

Your righteousness…

My Garden is a pleasant place
Of sun glory and leaf grace.
My lilac trees are old and tall;
They send their perfume over trees
And roofs and streets, to find the bees.

I wish some power would touch my ear
With magic touch, and make me hear
What all the blossoms say, and so
I might know what the winged things know.
And I would sing them all for you!

My garden is a pleasant place
Of moon glory and wind grace.
O friend, wherever you may be,
Will you not come to visit me?

Over fields and streams and hills,
I’ll pipe like yellow daffodils,
And every little wind that blows
Shall take my message as it goes.

A heart may travel very far
To come where its desires are,
Oh, may some power touch my ear,
And grant me grace, and make you hear!

~Excerpts from a…

I know I’ve been away for a while but you’ve gotten to enjoy some really great posts from other author friends of mine.  Although I was happy to introduce other authors and their work to you, I’m sorry you weren’t getting your usual dose of RANTING me.  The reason that I’ve been a tad bit absent, is because I’ve been spending so much time over at my new place (although, I still love you all here at my old place!).  RAVE REVIEWS BOOK CLUB has taken off and let me tell you, it’s been, and still is, a wild ride!  We are having so much fun over there and if you haven’t joined yet, you’re missing out on a lot.

My readers (you all) have been so good to me since I jumped on this social media scene.  I mean literally, some of you guys have been with me…

O such a commotion under the ground
When March called,”Ho there! ho!”
Such spreading of rootlets far and wide,
Such whisperings to and fro!
“Are you ready?” the Snowdrop asked,
” ‘Tis time to start , you know.”
“Almost, my dear! the Scilla replied,
“I’ll follow as soon as you go.”
Then “Ha! ha! ha!” a chorus came
Of laughter sweet and low,
From millions of flowers under the ground,
Yes, millions beginning to grow.

“I’ll promise my blossoms,” the Crocus said,
“When I hear the blackbird sing.”
And straight thereafter Narcissus cried,
“My silver and gold I’ll bring.”
“And ere they are dulled,” another spoke,
“The Hyacinth bells shall ring.”
But the Violet only murmured , “I’m here,”
And sweet grew the air of Spring.

O the pretty brave things, thro’ the coldest days
Imprisoned in the walls of brown,
They never lost heart tho’ the blast shrieked loud,

.
.
.

parchment paper birch

standing bravely white on white,

deep in snow… on snow.

its textured history bared

like ours… in subtle details.

.
.

slow nuanced layers,

peeled away in time… with trust…

from pretense and fear.
.
.
patiently waiting…alone,

hoping our Truth will be found.
.
.

.
.
pencil, watercolor pencil, acrylic paint,
paint markers, approx. 8″x8″ on vellum paper
sourced from various Google pics and my imagination.
click image to enlarge

.
.
.

parchment paper birch

standing bravely white on white,

deep in snow… on snow.

its textured history bared

like ours… in subtle details.

.
.

slow nuanced layers,

peeled away in time… with trust…

from pretense and fear.
.
.
patiently waiting…alone,

hoping our Truth will be found.
.
.

.
.
pencil, watercolor pencil, acrylic paint,
paint markers, approx. 8″x8″ on vellum paper
sourced from various Google pics and my imagination.
click image to enlarge