Freedom Protected

Freedom, Liberty, Honor;
motives of the servants.

For all, love of Country,
the fallen and the present.

To them we owe so much,
more than we even know.

May we never lose sight,
never forget the sacrifices
offered by these heroes:

Our Founding Fathers
Patriotic citizens
Uniformed Soldiers
and all those who have defended the freedom
granted us by our Maker and Creator.

God Bless America and God Bless you all

Island Sunset

Licking the sky
with brilliant colors
of pink, red, yellow, and blue.
As an inferno
spitting toward the sky,
she lowers her head
and bids goodnight.

Memory remains...

Rain begins to patter on the tin roof as the evening sun fades from the sky.
A puff of wind billows the lacy curtains in the bedroom window while
the fragrance of freesia in bloom among the ivy lingers in the air.
The cool sheets caress my skin and help stifle the growing fear within.
Speaking to me with a subtle click, the clock understands my pain,
But it is unable to erase the memory fresh in my mind.
As I reach for the vacant pillow, my eyes glimpse a filament
of his hair clinging to the white blanket; my breath catches.
When I last saw his face, love for me radiated across it,
his eyes promising a quick return, his anxiety well hidden.
The memory remains, handsome in his Confederate uniform,
waving goodbye, as the train rolls away from the station.

Written for the Friday 5 prompt on Poefusion.
Photo by Angie Clawson

Patriots

It was a sea of Patriots as far as the eye could see.
Awe inspiring, sending chills up your spine.

With one voice, they exclaimed excitement for the moment,
Annoyance with their leaders, and love for Country.

Like a deep rumbling of thunder, rippling across the lawn,
“Can you hear us now?” crescendos through the crowd.

Voices from the stage motivate and encourage,
With words, song, and even some rap.

But the most moving of all was the sound heard from
Capitol to Mall of “God Bless American” sung by all.

Summer Friends

Lazy days, humid nights
Swims, walks, sails,
A few campouts.
Days of summer
Are our moments
Cherished, remembered.
Waves, beach, sand,
Games old and new
Fun not forgotten.
Time may end
But only for a moment
My summer friends.

Inspired by my boys and their summer beach friends, I couldn't resist writing about them. These pictures were taken at our annual Sail Camp.

Just for fun...

Timeless Treasure

A dock
With old and new
A splash of aged treasures
Alongside modern architect
Timeless



This is a cinquain which was created by Adelaide Crapsey. A cinquain is a five line poem which consists of a 2, 4, 6, 8, 2 syllable count.
This picture is one I took during our vacation in Portland, Maine.

Footprints in the Sand

footprints in the sand
hand in hand we walk

a breeze on the water
cools and refreshes

water birds skitter
along the foamy surf

salty air gives a
fragrant aroma

time stands still
if only for a moment

(I took these pictures on Fisherman's Island on the Eastern Shore of Virginia. Needless to say, we were asked to leave the island because it is restricted and there is no trespassing. Who knew! The signs did not clearly state this but the Federal Ranger was very nice about it. We did enjoy our quaint island during our time there though.)

Summer Blooms

I love the beauty of summer! Especially the flowers in bloom. God's creation is just amazing. These are just a few pictures from our garden showing the wonderment and beauty we are given.

Regatta

The sailboats begin on the beach with only a whisper of a breeze. A big push gives them that extra burst needed to clear the rocks. As the lead boat, a dark blue sailfish, starts to scoot across the water into the open, the wind catches her colorful sail and gives her extra momentum. The remaining sailboats begin to glide into the wind line and the race becomes a dash to the round yellow marker.

The lead boat tacks back and forth, hoping to evade the group of sailboats pursuing her. A sunfish with blue and white sails begins to peck away at the distance between her and the lead boat. She uses a different tactic, taking longer tacks, gaining ground with each one. With the wind pushing them on, the marker, which once looked like a lone freckle on a bare back, is now only a few boat lengths away.

One by one, the boats round the marker, then begin the straight shot back to the beach. The dark blue sailfish has managed to keep her lead but this final stretch will be challenging. The wind, which has now gained strength, is at their stern quickening the pace. Spectators line the beach cheering on the competitors. The small boats scoot onto the beach one by one, the sailors glowing with excitement. All are winners today!

This was written for Friday 5 at Poefusion. Friday 5 words are in bold.

Life Among the Wood

With today being a 'snow day' for the whole family, I've had plenty of time to just sit and write, hence the many entries today. This was just a fun thing I decided to do after seeing this picture Scott took of the snowy pile of wood.

Stacked together in a pile with unlike kind
I’m left here to imagine what awaits me now.
At one time only a small part of a whole
Together a strong towering presence.
As we became acquainted with the earth
A transformation began to occur,
This tall tower, once unified and sturdy,
Now broken into many fragile pieces,
Left in a heap to become parched,
Thirsty for the drink that once hydrated.
Now arid, I find myself here amass
Awaiting my turn to enter the abyss;
At least it so seems to me.

Amid Inlets

Murky water laps at the post below the deck board
With snails clinging just above the water line.
Fog lingers on the surface like an alien mist
While the sun beckons her upward return.
A mislaid net ensnarled in the tall marshy grasses
Lays hold of a wayward fallen limb.
Low tide reveals the maiden silt left in her exit
Littered with crab shells strewn like tidal mines.
A gentle salty breeze laced with honeysuckle
Freshens up the stagnate marsh air.
This kaleidoscope of senses greets me,
Here at the dock amid inlets of our creek.

I wrote this poem using the title Amid Inlets which is an anagram of my blog title, "Island Time". This was a challenge by Poefusion, but I took it further and used four more anagrams of Island Time which I put in bold.

Island Snow 2009

We got our first (and probably only) snow of the season here on our island. Scott braved the cold and took some pictures.

Our snowy dock at the end of the creek.
The four great snow hunters!
Preparing for the great snowball fight!

On the dock at the end of the creek

The day was bright and clear with the sun shining brightly in the sky. Luckily, the humidity was low today, offering some relief to the hot summer. The past few days had been some of the hottest that Kate could remember here on the Chesapeake Bay. Yes, August always gave herself up to the overwhelming sticky heat so common to the Bay area in the summer, but this year it seemed to really envelope and smother.

Kate sat on the end of the dock in her lounge chair. Seagulls were flying overhead, squawking and swooping, keeping an eye on the boat coming up the creek. A stray breeze drifted across Kate’s cheek, a very welcome thing even in small portions. Of course the gentle rustling of the water brought back the memories of the previous evening. Oh, and what memories they were.

Kate always loved going out on the small boat in the early evenings with Nick, and this night was especially nice with the cool breeze and golden moon rising over the bay. It had been a long week but a trip out on the boat for some night fishing was a welcome diversion.

Nick pushed the boat off of the dock and they began rowing out of the shallow end of the creek. He started the engine and they made their way out of the creek towards their favorite fishing spot. Once anchored, Nick helped her bait and cast her line, then they relaxed and talked of the past week and the upcoming weekend.

Their conversations always turned to reminiscing over their past 25 years together and their forthcoming empty nest and of course this night was no different. They’d been enjoying their life on the Bay for more than fifteen of those years, with so many fun times out on the water as a family and a couple.

Nick did seem to have something on his mind tonight though that Kate had yet to drag out of him. He kept beating around the issue, teasing her about her lack of catching anything, of course, he hadn’t caught anything either, but they didn’t care, the fun part was just being together. Of course, Kate had that foreboding feeling that women always get when they know someone has something to tell them, but she tried not to let it show.

Finally, to Kate’s relief, Nick took in their lines, handed her a cold beer and told her he had some news. In his usual manner, he asked if she wanted the good news or the bad news first, which she hated (at least she tried to act like she did). So, in order to get it out of the way, she asked for the bad news and with a smirk, Nick told her there wasn’t any bad news. That got him a slap on the leg!

“So???” she asked.
“We did it, babe.” he replied.
“What?” Kate asked, with no clue what he was talking about.
“We have an appointment on Monday to sign the contract to publish our novel.”

So awed by the news, Kate almost falls out of the boat in an effort to hug Nick. This was the best news he could give her; the best news he could give them!

A drop of cool water from her glass of ice tea brought Kate back to the day at hand. The seagulls were now enjoying the meal being tossed in the water off of the dock down the creek. The sun was now getting higher in the sky and the heat seemed to be intensifying, but Kate didn’t seem to mind much. Her future looked bright (and hey, she was wearing sunglasses!) and their dreams were coming together before her eyes. Yes, life looked very good here on the dock at the end of the creek.

My Crush

A fluff of black fur
White wisps, soft and cuddly
Purr, sweet sound of joy
So full of friskiness.

White wisps, soft and cuddly
Whiskers rub my leg
The soft fur under chin
Begs for some rubbing.


Purr, sweet sounds of joy
White tummy of softness
A rub of the head
Soft strokes satisfy her.


So full of friskiness
Playing to and fro
This ball of black and white
My sweet little Crush.


This poetic form is a quadrilew as prompted from Poefusion. Created by C. G. V. Lewis the quadrilew is a form of the quatrain with an abab rhyme scheme, repeating lines and an alternating syllable count.

Springtime of Life

As she wanders through her fragrant garden
A perky squirrel skitters up a nearby tree.
Blooming flowers of red, blue, yellow, and orange
Raise their heads towards the brightly shining sun.

A visual picture of her life slowly fills her thoughts,
Just like a facsimile slowly printing a page.
A beautiful life which paralleled this spring garden,
Vibrant colors of love, hope, joy, and peace.

A comfy wicker lounge welcomes and invites
She stretches out, the sun warming her breast.
Kitty, soft and loving, finds a place on the seat,
Purring softly with every stroke of her hand.

When this comfortable, your mind takes flight,
Painting pictures of the chronicles of your life.
She relished in this time, remembering the past
Taking joy in the hope of the future.

Robins and Bluebirds were scattered about
Pecking for worms and seeds, singing gaily.
Overhead a seagull swoops and squawks,
Looking for its midday meal in the creek.

The wonder of it all floods her soul,
Leaving her in awe of the beauty around.
She knew this spring beauty was created
By the same whom held her life intact.


Written for Friday 5.