My Tree

The leaves on my tree start life in fragile shades of green.
They tentatively unfurl pale lime,
sometimes golden.

They grow toward summer.
Slick rubbery surfaces become verdant labs,
energy pads;
an alchemical mission marrying sun, dirt, and water from who knows where.

Some leaves are breezy cool;
blowing their rustle in bluish notes.
Some are robust and greedy.

The pale hide under the canopy.
The bold hang far out at the edge of things
edges crisp before their time.

And then the fall.
Oh, the fall…

Pale leaves turn incandescent –
glowing sun.
They gather steam for a final run;
Raucous yellow,
hot tomato red
and brilliant ruby.

They dance a holy conflagration,
a fire dance;
blazing tribute to the golden orb of life.

Till one-by-one they float down,
mosaically ground,
Leaving branches bare,
and a wintery view to the sky.

Dedicated to The Chutney Chicks.

2015 copyright

One River One Boat by Marjory Wentworth

South Carolina Poet Laureate, Marjory Wentworth, wrote a poem to be read at our state governor’s inauguration yesterday: “One River One Boat“. Unlike previous years, this year’s inaugural committee decided not to include the poem citing time as the issue.

One River One Boat” deserves to be heard. South Carolina’s US Congressman Jim Clyburn read it on the US House floor yesterday admitting it into congressional record. Another of my state’s citizens, Brenda Peart,
was moved to do her own reading of the poem.

Thank you, Rep. Clyburn. Thank you, Brenda. Thank you, Marjory.

One River, One Boat

I know there’s something better down the road.
— Elizabeth Alexander

Because our history is a knot
we try to unravel, while others
try to tighten it, we tire easily
and fray the cords that bind us.
The cord is a slow moving river,
spiraling across the land
in a succession of S’s,
splintering near the sea.

read on ….

M Wentworth

Marjorie Wentworth is a lovely writer.
My favorite is Dancing Barefoot in Atlanta (pg. 49).
Her website features her poetry, blog, and reflections on being a writer.


Enduring mystery.
Lures curiosity.
Look more closely.
Or, you will never see.

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Repeat, Repeat, Repeat

When presenting, you may know your message well, but your audience doesn’t.  You have to teach them. That means repeat your core idea at least three times:
Tell them what you’re going to tell them.
Tell them what you’re telling them.
Tell them what you’ve told them.

Or –

When you’ve a message
you want all to recall
but, the listener’s
tired and distracted.
Don’t worry, my dear,
repetition’s your friend!
Repeating is where you get traction.

Plant the seed.
Lay the message out once.
Introduce the thing you’ll be selling.
But, the message is risked
if it’s not fixed
in the anchoring soil of re-telling.

So, repeat it,
then say it again,
(and maybe once more for good measure).
Repeating mitigates
all the dissipates.
Repeat puts the ‘all’ in recalling.

I know what you’re thinking.
can’t possibly fix all the blanking.
But, trust me, my friend,
when the goal is retrieving …
nothing beats the art of repeating!

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Today’s NaPoWriMo challenge? “A poem with ‘repeating’.”
I tried a poem about repeating …


Poem: Tidepools

CJ - SandPiper - 2013

This is a poem about seeing.
About how how waves of glimmering glamour can hide what lies in the depths:




charge the light

and conceal secrets



at bottom.


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Poem: Is This How It’s Made?

CJ - Eye See

Honoring visionaries and the vision in each of us:


What is in the seer’s seeing?
What renders the light of recognition?
What mysterious mechanism charges vision?

propheter, dreamer

You intimates with insight
are journeyers
crossing the expanse between what is and will be.

I ask you, does seeing draw the future near?

Let’s say – that all the futures lie acre by acre,
one with another, beside another,
inside another,
on top of another:
A multidimensional medley.

Let’s say – that we see what we make
and we make what we see
and that is how
what is comes to be.

Then, does seeing mean creating time beyond a certain line?

In our seeing, we perceive the futures.
And in these visions, we can see our choices.
And, in our choosing we create – each of us in pieces.
And, as pieces we create a whole

So what, then?

I ask you,
Eye of Heart and Mind,
Original Seer,
what transcendent spark starts it all?


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Hello, again ….

Creating needs solitude. And, creating needs friends:

Sometimes we say it again, say it with friends.
Sometimes we need a witness.
Sometimes we need a mirror.
Sometimes we just need, and it helps if someone is there for us when we do.
Sometimes, only the oldest of friends will do.

Here’s to saving, savoring, celebrating that
wonderful thing called
good old friends.

Hello, again!   Hello world!

© Christie James, 2010