A writer inspired by nature and human nature

Posts tagged ‘Poetry’

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Celebrating the amazingly talented author and illustrator, Bette A. Stevens! ✨ @BetteAStevens #RRBC


What a lovely surprise to find today… Thank you, author Natalie Ducey! ~Bette A. Stevens, Maine author

Natalie Ducey

Today, I’m delighted to celebrate the amazingly talented author and illustrator, Bette A. Stevens. If you haven’t already connected with Bette, I really encourage you to do so. She is a gifted writer and most generous soul. ♥

Bette’s book Pure Trash has been selected as one of three Books of the Month with Rave Reviews Book Club. I was thrilled to know this gem was selected. It’s an absolute joy to read and certainly worthy of this recognition.

Cheers to you, Bette!

Maine Author/Illustrator Bette A. Stevens Maine Author/Illustrator Bette A. Stevens

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 five. 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…

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1295. A writer lives, at best, in a state of astonishment. Beneah any feeling he has of the good or evil of the world lies a deeper one of wonder at it all. ~William Sansom


Enjoying the wonder of it all! ~ Bette A. Stevens, Maine author http://www.4writersandreaders.com

Sacred Touches

How can I stand on the ground
every day and not feel its power?
How can I live my life stepping on
this stuff and not wonder at it?
~William Bryant Logan

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The many gardens of the world,
of literature and poetry,
of painting and music,
of religion and architecture,
all make the point as clear as possible:
The soul cannot thrive in the absence of a garden.
~Thomas Moore

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A garden is like the self.
It has so many layers
and winding paths,
real or imagined, that it
can never be known, completely,
even by the most intimate of friends.
~Anne Raver

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The whole earth is filled with awe at your wonders; where morning dawns, where evening fades, you call forth songs of joy. ~Psalm 65:8  ✝

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Season of Blossoms a Haiku by Bette A. Stevens


Inspired by nature

Apple Blossom HAIKU bas 2015Spring has sprung and apple trees are shouting about it here at the farmstead in Central Maine. After a long winter’s nap their branches are bursting into bloom. With temperatures in the 70s and sunshine in full array (Oh, but rain predicted to be on its way…), this writer is shouting about it too. Inspired by another of nature’s wonders ~ Bette A. Stevens, Maine author illustrator

What’s inspiring you this spring?

[Explore Bette’s Blog]

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1131. The rose is without an explanation; she blooms because she blooms. ~Angelus Silesius


Picture perfect images. Oh, the wonder of it all! ~ Bette A. Stevens, Maine author/illustrator http://www.4writersandreaders.com

Sacred Touches

Roses of the field whisper divine poetry,
but you must listen carefully to hear it
because noise from the wheels of progress
drowns out everything that sings.
~Edited poem by Judith Cody

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You love the roses – so do I. I wish
The sky would rain down roses!
Why will it not?
Then all the valley would be pink and red
And soft to tread on. They would fall as light
As feathers, smelling sweet; and it would be
Like sleeping and like waking, all at once!
~Edited poem by George Elliot

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He(the Lord) will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart. ~Psalm 91:4  ✝

**Image of my Night Owl roses

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Monet


I love art & poetry…
Have a beautiful day, friends! ~ Bette A. Stevens http://www.4writersandreaders.com

Ancient Skies

Monet from Pinterest

With a simple paintbrush he could see the horizon

that it was not a destination, but light between worlds,

a way of thinking really, bending colors, identifying

the softness. Just a hint of humans passing through

time, walking softly between colors and light.

A lot of blue with green, often a sky.

Monet.

       

 Poetry © Copyright 2016, ancient skies

image from pinterest

Peace and blessings to everyone.

“When we love people, we give them hope.”

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


Exquisite—poetry in motion! ~ Bette A. Stevens

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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Choose Something Like a Star, poem by Robert Frost


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

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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