Calling all women who love WINE . . . WILDFLOWERS . . . WRITING. We will be doing all three at the Wine, Women & Wildflowers Workshop on May 17, Saturday, from 5:00-8:00 p.m. The photo on the left was taken in one of the fields we will be walking in as we look at wildflowers. Continue reading “WWWW”
Tag: poems
Poems at the Tastin’
Tonight, May 3, I will be writing poems-in-a-minute during the Taste of Claremore event downtown. I will set up shop in the outdoor foyer area at the Cranberry Merchant. For one dollar, you can give me three words, and I will write you a personalized poem in one minute. That’s a bargain, no matter how you look at it. Continue reading “Poems at the Tastin’”
Flora in Enid
I was recently in a group that toured the Enid Symphony Center, which is housed in an old Masonic Lodge building, resplendent in its design. The tour was led by music and executive director Douglas Newell, who offered some wonderful insights about the building, preservation, community involvement, and art in its many forms. In the Ballroom Theatre, four murals illustrate William Morris’s poem “Flora,” a beautiful little homage to the Roman goddess of plants, flowers, and fertility. Continue reading “Flora in Enid”
The First of May
The verbena comes back,
As the wind makes its way
Down the same dirt track,
In the same sort of day.
The fleabane claims the field
As the rain makes spring feet
In the garden newly tilled
Before the summer’s heat. Continue reading “The First of May”
Poeta Mundanus
The academic world of poetry has never interested me as much as the mundane world of poetry. Some people might balk at putting “poetry” and “mundane” in the same sentence, but let’s look at the origin of a word that in the popular imagination means a bunch of negative things: common, ordinary, banal, unimaginative. Continue reading “Poeta Mundanus”
Red Ferns and Red Hounds
If you don’t believe a story
Can stay with you in the background
Like a picturesque tree you pose before
For all of your life, witness this:
I loved the baking powder can
That Billy saved his money in to buy
Those two redbone coonhounds.
The Clabber Girl with her shy smile
And plate of biscuits sits in my cabinet
And empty on the shelf beside the sink
Where I put twisty ties and pennies. Continue reading “Red Ferns and Red Hounds”
Rural Oklahoma Museum of Poetry 