"terra cotta"

ter·ra cot·ta  n.  "baked earth"; clay used in fired unglazed ceramics

ter′ra-cot′ta, adj...a brownish orange 

...rolling on the paint, dipping and saturating the oblong roller brush at the end of a pole into a paint tray...exerting pressure with criss-crossing motion, using long strokes to fill in the rougher areas.  This is what we did to redo my previously dull atrium in my home to get the house ready to sell.  Whether it's a selling point or a drawback, it's ready for someone to do what they would like to do with it. Immediately green bamboo leaves contrasted with a pop against the bright wet paprika painted concrete floor.   It soon  dried to  a flat eggshell terra cotta colour;  a fan helps to move the warm air out while a cool breeze travels through the bright room.  A small old burner stove stands modestly nearby, asking the bougainvillea to climb up the wall.  There is pond where a waterfall softy recycles itself.  The Aloe Vera plant appears swollen, ready to use to heal a wound.  The camellia bush's shiny leaves and the cacti provide texture, as does a new colorful accent sisal rug.  It is a more vibrant space.... almost begging me to stay and enjoy!  Clearly, the indoor terrace has the ambiance of a courtyard in a casa en Mexico;  cozy, warm, and comfortable, with beams of vaulted wood..open air from above...and the color, terra cotta...I tried samples of tan, gray and red, thought of expensive tile or polished stones, but this was the best choice.  We repaired some rotted woodwork, painted the trim, washed and cleaned the entire area.

I'll miss the sound of rain on the sun roof....

Tiny Baby's Breath creeps through begonias and ferns.  It would be the epitome of tranquility, to  lye in a hammock or sit in a wicker chair with a good read, a bottle of Chardonnay on the table; I can almost smell from the kitchen a meal of chicken adobe, beans, rice, tomatillos and flan prepared by Frida Kahlo. I hear her ruffled long skirt swish as she makes her way to the brick oven, laughing voices, and I hear a faint guitar.....

.....o.,k....but back to reality -

Large drops of fresh dark red cement paint on my pants; oh well, I don't need them anymore anyway.  My hair, toes (I always go barefoot), arms, and hands bear thin trails the color of blood, as though I had fallen through a window and been cut by shards of sharp glass.  The hard work of refurbishing a room reaps its rewards of new possibilities; new ideas present themselves.  Already a small garden of ferns and a water feature, I add flower pots, a healthy new strawberry hydrangea tree and a zinnia.  Wa-la! Time to put up party lights and dance (sometime after the second coat of paint dries) and after the big garage sale tomorrow!  So for those who wish to know, I am still very busy here and unable to focus on my blog again this week.  Just so some know, I am hoping to return to it and writing as events allow me to. As they saying goes, there's a lot on my plate at the moment.  I have had many "looky- loos" coming to check out the house almost every day, but so far no takers.  All it takes is just one person - and perhaps a little negotiating ;-)

To curtsy or to bow..

It's Open link night at dversepoets.com today where we are celebrating the two year anniversary of this supportive and welcoming worldwide poetry website...
We love parades,
adhering to elaborate traditions, 
pomp and circumstance;   
ceremonies seem oh so relevant,
but why are the Who's Who 
of an empire, heads of state, 
uniforms, polo 
and prominent noses important?
What about who designs planes,
who runs in the special Olympics,
or what about a man on the moon?
Isn't the balance of power out of balance?
What does it mean to want to be top dog, 
to eat from a silver spoon?
Britain's monarchy is at the center -
with a stigma of being Stuffy, finding change difficult yet
However, we love kind, down to earth Queen Elizabeth; 
we remember her beautiful sister, Princess Margaret
They began their reign with important reforms -
Optimism above all, expressing a need to be
near the people, dedication and service
People love having their lives linked with affection 
and loyalty - and royalty remains
as set examples to emulate -
of virtues and artful living, caring for one another
Even though she lives in a palace in London, 
she gives her 100%; she put up with The Beattles
burning holes in her rug with cigarettes
So the future king or queen will be borne this week,
to perpetuate the family's domain;  
Surely a prince or princess will resemble William and Kate,
let's hope he or she is a cute baby,
for often it's not the case 
when two such attractive people mate
I hope in spite of all the pandering and ceremony, 
there is kind of normalcy;
for with new leaders of a kingdom
the marked emphasis now should be
the content of one's character, 
not what weight the crown in jewels or gold, 
nor taste in hattery.
Kings of old may have acted insanely;
today their soundness of mind will lead 
us into the future;
And when the new baby arrives,
we will salute him or her,
pray goodness and mercy
shall follow as the old is replaced with the new. 
Soon we will know whether to bow or curtsy -
whether the royal diapers will be pink or blue

On the horizon...

by klr

Water runs clear in the creek bed;

streaming moss grasps its hard pulled roots

Smooth mottled rocks look back at me,

gold tones hit thigh high wading boots

Light plays into stained glass ripples; 

Shades of evening gather and turn 

still pools to aubergine ink wells  

Gone is midday's white brittle fern

And all fools wish to love again; 
when all is said and done and fish 

swim no longer in murky dens, 

but frolic with faces clownish

Rising, flying to halfway heights

between the green sea and blue sky

Lofty hymns, pianissimo -

air and gulls' wings thus carried by

Heard only by the steadfast ear
they recall a sailor's lost joys, 

tribulation's lost salty tears

preserving crimped hearts as alloys

Flutters of wishes unfolding
fragile spirits lift sacredly

and in the throws of leaving cry 

the clouds for birds nigh achingly

Beating still louder, red gold wings, 
flocks of one million butterflies -

What was a lifetime of verses

disappears bidding it's goodbye's

Over at   dversepoets.com   Claudia has invited us to share our version of a mirage or heat wave, a kind of fantasy about real and the unreal...I had this already half written, although it doesn't suggest "hot", just that fine line between our visual and imagined horizons...and will be reading all the other posts tonight after dinner out.

Hidden objects...

banana
bell
needle
flag
ice cream
toothbrush
cotton candy
comb
open book
wishbone
pencil
moon
pennant
croquet
heart
note                        
in the picture puzzle -
the Highlight game
we as kids used to play, 
discovering....

..later in life, the game changes -
Bewildered, lost?  

Wonder what in the future lies,
what doors will open, close?
Pondering answers to these
puzzling questions causes drums 
to beat in my heart;
whirlpools of blood curl as prose;
surely it's poetry that flows

Feel bewildered by turns of events? 
Isolation, when once 
there was partnership?
Feel lost, betrayed,
barely hanging onto threads 
for safety to fight another day?  
Inside unfamiliar territory?

Cozy to cling to one's socks, shoes
walk the street in sunglasses - 
Incognito

Ironclad is the notion 
things get better with age,  

that wine 200 years old is tastier still; 
that sweet smoke of blanched alder 
enhances the steak

I was following trails of crumbs, 
you see;

I don't like losing things -
I sometimes miss cigarettes

My mind was as fresh as the top of the morning - 

a thrill here, bit of gambling there; 
So does life fizzle like bubbles in the bathtub
til the end of time??

But it's the innocent babe 
in the folds of beginning
that has the secret to living -

We all have to learn it all over again,
as grapes ripen on the vine;
For all puzzles will have answers
one day at the end of the line

I've have made a reservation - 
Can't you see it in my eyes?
For when puzzles cease to capture me,
When highest light dawns golden in the deep,
I'll travel the road into the mystical 
midnight blue skies,
solve them when I sleep 

For dversepoets.com today considering puzzles 

~ returning in August with a different look...

My Fantasia..

It's good to be back for a day

 of reading and writing; while there's a heat wave now in 

the Pacific North West, I find myself still in the throws of getting my home ready to sell. The work has been overwhelming. The real estate market is good for sellers now where I am, and there is a low inventory, so wish me luck as I go right back to work repairing and cleaning 

with the help and support of good friends.  It looks more like the end of July before I will be able to return, to sit down with my blog peers.

Happy 4th everyone!

My contribution to Mary's invite over at dversepoets.com today, a reference to a Disney move:

Dancing mushrooms, 
musically inspired by flutes,

taught me about life's choreography;

secrets of flowers, fantastic stories -

 plus the soul of Tchaikovsky

uplifted me

Like fireworks chasing a storm
 scenes burst with unstoppable technicolor; 
underneath abstract shadows and light, 

  melodic notes crept 
into my subconscious at night,
putting me afloat

Birthed from a pen, 
 moods and tones of all seasons 
move across the screen in serious momentum -

of mice, hippos, autumn leaves  

  Virtuoso sounds and visuals
re - release my imagination

Despite woes, 
it's a good philosophy
 to conduct one's own symphony

Disney worked magic;  he wanted to fill
the theater with incense and add stereo
to the soundtrack of the movie, 
a sort of road show 

 I would orchestrate
the building of a castle by the sea
to fend off any sorcerer, 
I would fan incense and songs 
of a thousand Ave Maria's 
about as the movie's music seeps 
into my backbone,

uplifting me

"Fantasia"

~ Away until end of June ~

Neighborhood...

Our job was sorting mail -
overtime at Christmas
3 shifts, crews rotated 
designated work areas 
where machines now 
labor to move the mail 
Hank was about to retire;
Japanese, always solemn, 
rarely spoke
Micho's sweet smile -
never used a day of sick leave
in her career,
she loved to talk about
her prize winning chrysanthemums
Benita was a new hire,
from the Philippines
dearly missed her family
Harry was also Japanese, 
always had a fresh remark,
harmless banter, joking was his style
Martha, my coworker  - 
graveyard shift, single mother of
4,  black,  full of vigor,
hilarious company
Jerry worked every day with me
at the registry, 
selling stamps, 
accepting valuable packages
He had arrived from Vietnam in the 70's; 
we worked well together, 
had a system, an understanding
We were productive , efficient,
had happy customers
Victor, his brother, worked in the back -
loaded mail on the trucks
He had a way with people -
put them in their place without
their realizing it,
never said a negative word
Sue made beautiful Chinese silk screen
Maria and her husband Luis,
hard workers from Mexico, 
she worked till she gave birth
right there in the elevator
Some liked to gossip, 
some were slackers,
but they were the minority...
Once a month 
we brought potluck  -
food was delicious and varied
from Hawaiian barbecue, stir fry, 
beans and enchiladas, 
chow mien, Thai, duck feet, 
egg rolls, sushi, macaroni & cheese,  
casseroles, lumpia,  adobo - 
chicken in 
one hundred different ways..
breads, cakes, and pies 
potpourri of desserts 

My neighbor two doors down 

is a Bonsai expert, 

has a pagoda garden

Sam across the street is Burmese -

He and his Vietnamese wife, 

May, adopted little David,

a Chinese boy

A Samoan family lived on the corner,

moved when their kids graduated

I can't forget Lee

who lives next door to me

She's an attorney, teaches English,

takes care of many 

of her native Korean elderly

26 families in this cul-de-sac

An Englishman and his wife 

The rest of us are mongrels -

European ancestors 

Me...I'm mostly Irish 

and we didn't get along 

with Italians, and others 

who immigrated to the US, 

.....at first

We are different in customs,

 in ways we approach life 

and family issues, 

but we are basically the same

in the truly important ways

We help each other, 

respect each other's 

background, privacy; 

we are a cross section of the USA,

melting pot of individuals 

with  lives that play out 

in every day events that
 inspire understanding,

optimal living for all

in the same community 

No need for running interference

between parties -

We are enriched by sharing, 

exchanges stories,

watching each other's kids 

play and grow.  

Born of this diversity is 
TOLERANCE, 

Education tears down  

real or imagined barriers

If only the world would 

catch up, follow suit, 

fall into the same pattern,

continue in the same vein,

To have world peace one day -

acquaint the ancient 
with the new
To live together in harmony

We are all part of God's rainbow

with different shades of skin;

our offspring's offspring

will live in an era 

of co-mingled DNA, but we have
a long way to go to solve the
age old problems 
of hunger, hostility 
reaching across all 
boundaries

dversepoets.com

Kelvin has asked us to write about anything Asian, spurred by insensitive racial remarks made on his blog.  He lives in the Philippines.. we all have experiences with Asian culture, cuisine, friends, or art,,it will be interesting to see what is written about in poetry form...one last post before I take leave.

Isn't there a song about a "Wooden Heart"?

...wrote this before I knew the theme for today  for Meeting the Bar 

at  dVerse  which is volition and velleity.  I think it works in it's own way ;)

Our eyes locked in passing

you introduced yourself -
You sat beside me, comforted me
then asked me to dance
The touch of your lips was magic 
You touched me with your strong hands,
took me home and didn't want to leave
You came back to me
again and again -
I thought I died when it ended 
but, I healed 
Other nice men
came into my life;
In passing through
they had the same effect on me,
the presence felt right
as did his hand in mine
He said he wanted to spend the rest of
his life with me - 
but there was less holding time,
only wishful thinking on my part
 - he said he wouldn't let me go, 
so I felt I'd take the leap, 
if it weren't for my heart
He reminded me of you -
familiar feelings
because of how I was wooed 
We danced the Tango,
but it was not the same -
He treated me
with respect that took my fear away
wanted to settle down 
But we did not marry,
as friends the foundation was laid
for something permanent
but I had to let him go
to live his life without me -
He would have committed, 
I realize now
I don't feel anything
except when I watch movies
like "Under the Tuscan Sun",
or "The Way We Were"
when I feel all there is 
to feel in 2 hours
until the end
and be done,
It's me in love, it's me pining, 
I am making passionate 
love on the screen
Only I'm not risking my heart
like before,
just playing the part 
I know so well 
Therefore 
Kiss me not -
if you do not intend to stay
don't ask me to dance unless you feel
something real and true
Don't  expect anything of me
and I won't of you
Please, lets not -
spare us the pain
... then I wonder...

For those who read this, know that I am indebted to you all for 

visiting and reading my sorely penned poetry; of all the posts I've put out, there 

are some very special ones that stick out in my mind and I wish them to be regarded for 

"what I am capable of creating" and their quality - not with the goal of accumulating 'views'. Beginning now and through the entire month of June,  I will be immersing myself in business 
and medical matters that need my attention and helping my daughter move into a larger 
home ...as well as getting work done on my own home.

Therefore, the writing, blogging, reading and commenting will not be my main focus.  
In fact,  I was waylaid this week with organization issues that prevented me from catching up 
with reading poetry over at  dversepoets.com which I couldn't help.  It is not 
fair to post and run like I did.

What I post, if anything, will be intermittent poems or photos

They and my blog will have to stand on their own merit for awhile - as I will NOT be 

contributing to any prompts or memes, unable to hold up my end as a committed poetry
 group member, as one needs to be. I will be reading as time allows, but want to let 
you know my time will be very limited. 

  As much as I would like it to not be so, this is a necessary step.  I will see what happens 
on this hiatus; whether the blog will survive, evolve, or whatever changes might be 
made are unknowns to me at this time.  No big mystery, just needing the 
break, as we all do from time to time. ;-)  
Have a great rest of May and June!!  I'll be checking back of course...to all  my friends 
and followers, especially those at dversepoets.com, I love you!    Kathy ~

        

            

A rare visit....

Impressed with the white peacock at a visit to our local "Old Goats Farm" in Orting WA, I was moved to write about her.  I was unable to get a good photo while there, so this is not the actual gal I saw, but very similar.  It's Open Link Night at dversepoets.comdverse.com    

She perches above the heavenly berm,
a silent mossy clover landing place,
mistress of woodland's trillium and fern
Shaded glens where she preens 
her billowy lace skirt of feathers
flowing away from 
her gracefully turned bosom and torso,
onto the goat mowed lawn, blue-green;
freely roaming it's gardens-
mixed blasts of colorful blooms
lean into waving purple blues 
of columbine and iris

Knotted trees magically anchor
the ground against nature's chartreuse
and blue-grey leaves,
Birdsong spans the air 
as she glides
in her training white down comforter 
wedding gown


Crested on her temple, 
bobbling antennae attest
to her 'everyday a queen' countenance -
quail-like face and modest neck 
suggest delicate elegance -
belied by her shrill shriek
as she calls to her mate
She spreads her half moon
ornate plumage for show, 
proudly signalling coded messages
with every multiplied eyed feather

Legend has it she descended
from Venus as 
guardian and protector - 
A flightless breed,
she nests 
according to the rains
 
She's poetry in motion - 
All season webbed feet to rely on,
she parades the landscape 
in view of her fellow constituents
to the other side of the farm -
five baby black ducklings lie low;
an admiring sapphire 
male peafowl
awaits her
 I gaze upon her as she unfurls her 
huge fan,
She honors us
in all her leucistic pageantry