Category Archives: Pomage (Images and Poetry)

Pomage? The magic of images and words, words inspired by an image, an image inspired by a word.

Post-A-Day 2011 – Postcard from Spring

2011 April 2

While others share their signs of Spring
Snow here still hides most everything…
Yet, Spring brings light, not dull and gray
Clear Light begins to end the day

Crisp Clear Light

Light seen through woods, ‘tween trees
Brings contrast to the world we sees!
Colors in both bark and trunk
Lifting winter’s tired funk

Coyote Jokester


Coyote jokesters jump and play
Hide and seek in woods today
Across the frozen snow they trot
North then south, they slink and plot

Superior’s blocks of ice and snow
In sunlight cast their crystal glow
With each and every tiny drip
Spring loosens Winter’s chilly grip.

Winter dripping away...


While Water laughs a music score
Walls of ice still line the shore
Sparkling in a slow retreat
Giving way to patient heat

Crystal Walls

Sunshine! clear and crisp ‘til night
Then washing snow in sleepy light
Water droplets, ripples, flow
Signs of Spring beneath snow glow

Beneath the sheets of ice and snow...

2011 3 April ~ and today it snows once more! Spring comes slowly here. May your days be filled with sparkling light!
Namaste ~ Star Bear
Words and photographs copyright 2011 Betsy Lewis

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Post-A-Day2011 – Why do we write?

To remember, to capture a moment, a feeling, a smell of something or someone we love and then… to share it.

The first poem I had published this century was written in this loft where our hay was stored. The barn was built in the 1880's and was filled with history and character. I think it was contagious!

Winter Endured by Summer Cured ~ Counting Days

Summer sits
in pale green blocks
in the loft sunlight sneaks
‘tween ancient boards painting streaks
bright broad to narrow strokes
on bales of darker green alfalfa
and second cutting grass
stacked like children’s playthings
in neat rows, mostly,
except when one is wrenched askew
and others shift around it crookedly.

‘Merely hay’ some folks may chide
know not the secrets locked inside
orange and sisal baling twine
holding summer wrapped and dried.
‘Merely hay’ to those who only see the shape,
green sticks, picky, prickly, trying to escape.
Feed for cattle, horses, sheep…
They do not see the country-dance
of sweaty bodies throwing bales,
or smell full-bodied summer’s green
waiting for release as twine is cut,
the bale opened, sending out aroma
sweet to nose of one who knows
this delicate perfume
inhaling deep rich odors bring
warm thoughts of summer’s breeze…
Yet, when I try to share this
most folks only sneeze!

Still,
Summer rests in pale green blocks
counting done by timeless clocks.
Days pass, rows disappear
Bales are counting out the year…
Sitting high up in the loft
Smelling hay, feeling soft
chilly winters are endured
inhaling smells of summer
so carefully cured.

Edited slightly January 29, 2001 Copyright Betsy Lewis

Poetry is meant to be heard, read aloud. Thank you Jim for the discussion about reading poetry out loud. Reminded me of this, which was published because I called an editor, read it out loud to him and he said “Yes, send it right away, please!” It was in print the next week.

May we all remember our “just do it” experiences and then just do it!

Namaste ~ Star Bear