Winter’s Joy

Lately I’m struggling a bit with inspiration. Could be the weather, could be the new meds. So I’m grabbing some December Prompts from my prompt jar just to see what happens.

Today’s Prompt: What Joy Means to Me

“Joy is what happens when we allow ourselves to recognize how good things really are” ~Marianne Williamson

Winter Joy

Winter mornings with cerulean skies
reflected on the snow and ice
creates a blue tinged aurora
while acres of diamonds
glint in the sunshine
my breath creates little puffs
of fog in the frigid air
and my face tingles
with snowflake kisses
Inside hot tea, biscuits and
a fire in the hearth lie waiting
to warm the cockles of my heart
I find a blissful joy in Winter
the sparkling beauty of nature
the coziness of home and hearth
Winter and Joy walk hand in hand
as Mother Nature sleeps
I slow down and recognize
how joyful life can be when
we stop and look around

Til next time ~Stop, look around, and be amazed ~JP

Morning – a Stream of Consciousness Poem

Linda’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt this week:

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “morning.” Use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!

Morning

I sit in the early morning light
of a cloudless sky just before
the sun begins to rise
watching the peculiar gray
give way to lighter blue
I am struck with awe
nearly brought to my knees
by the overwhelming sense
of gratitude
and I whisper my prayer
to the morning light
“Thank you”

BIKFOK (butt in chair fingers on keyboard) – 17 min

Til next time ~Peace ~JP

Cellophane Dreams – a Stream of Consciousness Saturday poem

For Linda’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday where our prompt is:

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “starts with or contains ‘cel.’” Find a word that begins with or contains “cel” and use it in your post any way you’d like. Have fun!

Hmmm cel – cephalopod no … cell phone … too, well, too. Ahhhh here we go Cellophane!

Cellophane Dreams

Dreams wrapped in plastic untouchable

through their cellophane wrappings

beautiful but unattainable, unreachable

and so become unnoticed

Tissue paper memories worn with age

and thinned by constant touch

we tint them rose and make a child’s

window hanging to color our world

Dreams of what we had and what we lost

dreams never seem to count the cost

so I’ll watch the sunrise color my world

through rose-tinted tissue paper memories

And remember, always, fragile flowers, life

and… you

BIKFOK (Butt in Chair Fingers on Keyboard) to publish – 22 minutes

Til next time ~May your memories be sweet ~JP

Flashback Friday – Aloha Kauai

Welcome to Flashback Friday, where Fandango invites us to take a look back at some of our older posts. This one goes way back to the dark recesses of pre WordPress days.

Travel Journal – Kapaa Hawaii. Departure day – today we bid Aloha to our Kauai paradise and head back to the mainland, back to real life. Insert big sigh here. I don’t cry every time I leave Kauai … oh wait yeah I do. But life goes on, I have work to do and heaven knows my back misses my mattress!

This post inspired by Fandango’s Friday Flashback and originally posted November 11, 2015.

A hui hou kākou (Until we meet again) ~JP

Sunday Sage – The Touch of a Hand

tiny yellow violas in an old weathered hand (yep it’s mine)

For Writer’s Quote Wednesday #42, my favorite quote about the sense of touch:

“There’s power in the touch of another person’s hand. We acknowledge it in little ways, all the time. There’s a reason human beings shake hands, hold hands, slap hands, bump hands.

“It comes from our very earliest memories, when we all come into the world blinded by light and color, deafened by riotous sound, flailing in a suddenly cavernous space without any way of orienting ourselves, shuddering with cold, emptied with hunger, and justifiably frightened and confused. And what changes that first horror, that original state of terror?

“The touch of another person’s hands.

“Hands that wrap us in warmth, that hold us close. Hands that guide us to shelter, to comfort, to food. Hands that hold and touch and reassure us through our very first crisis, and guide us into our very first shelter from pain. The first thing we ever learn is that the touch of someone else’s hand can ease pain and make things better.

“That’s power. That’s power so fundamental that most people never even realize it exists.”

Jim Butcher – Skin Game

Til next time ~Stay calm and read urban fantasy ~JP

I Am – a Stream of Consciousness Poem

For Linda’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “your favorite word.” Decide on your favorite word and use it in your post any way you’d like. Enjoy!

My favorite word? Other than “huh?” The one I use most often is probably “awesome” but favorite, that’s going to require a bit of thought.

I Am

I am not a number
I am not my size
I am dirty feet, wild hair
and the sparkle in my eyes
I am made of starlight
and brilliant white moon beams
lovingly stitched together
by all my hopes and dreams
composed of tears and laughter
and the moments in between
I’m there in every book I’ve read
and every poem that I write
I am a strong black coffee
in world of cheap red wine
I’m every song I’ve ever sung
and every place I’ve ever seen
Oh and there’s one more thing
that I almost forgot
One more thing I am
is an Awesome Nelipot*

BICFOK – 25 minutes

Til next time ~Walk barefoot ~JP

*One who goes about barefoot – Urbandictionary.com – one of my favorite words

Thoughtful Thursday – Changing Views

My view last evening

Tomorrow marks one year since we arrived at our new home. It seems so different and yet, it seems at times that I’ve never lived anywhere else. I have settled in to this new life quickly, oh so quickly. Yesterday I posted a picture of a huge Jill-o-lantern from Osaka, Japan and I began reflecting on how many different October views I’ve had over the years. I’ve spent a good many of them overseas for both business and pleasure and the balance have mostly involved significant amounts of domestic travel. It seems odd to not be moving somewhere at this time of year and yet I find I have no real desire to journey beyond my little town, my gated courtyard, or my front door for that matter. I don’t know, maybe my traveling days are done, then again, maybe not. Sometimes when the leaves turn red and the breeze is still warm, I dream of Hobbiton, of Mt. Kurama, of the Yangtze River and Shanghai Hairy Crab … shudder. That’s a tale for another day.

Til next time remember ~Fall is nature’s way of reminding us how beautiful it is to let go ~JP

Walkabout Wednesday – Through the Glass

Terri has given us a Sunday Stills prompt this week of “glass.” Glass, now there’s an interesting photographic challenge. Let’s dash about the archives shall we.

Thin(ish) layers of glass are all that separate me from the sky. Looking out at Hawaii on approach at Lihue.

And, of course always reflections in a looking glass. Here at Larnach Castle, Dunedin, NZ

And, china is kind of a glass, here serving up my favorite beverage in my favorite shop in Kyoto, Japan

And then there’s stained glass. This rescued piece on display in the Wellington Museum, Wellington, NZ

And, finally, no reflection on glass would be complete without a classic by Peggy Lee, one of my all-time favorite voices.

Empty Glass

Close the door and pull the blinds
Fill your glass, but don’t fill mine
Here’s to you now for the last time
Here’s to me your sometime past time
Here’s to love, an empty glass

Feeling low, but it will pass
With some coffee, demitasse
Black and strong and very bitter
I can think of nothing fitter
For a lover, second class

Deep inside I guess I knew
You were too good to be true
Still it rocked me to discover
You would kiss and run for cover
When I started loving you

Nothing could have made it last
Say goodbye and say it fast
Here’s to you now for the last time
Here’s to me your sometime past time
Here’s to love, an empty glass

Songwriters: Luiz Bonfa & Dick Manning

~ all lyrics are the product of my memory. Any discrepancies or divergences from actual fact should not be viewed as errors but as all natural variations proving that I did, in fact, live through the 60’s.

Til next time ~Here’s to the no-longer empty glass ~JP