Friday Fragments

Hello Everyone,

Thanks to someone who just subscribed today, I now 2777 followers — rather an interesting number I think. I’d like to say thank you to every one of you who have taken the time to read my posts, to leave comments, and especially to follow this blog.

I’m going to be otherwise occupied with things around the home and yard for a few days, but thought I would dig into my DropBox files and share a number of verses with you this weekend. They may be haiku, free verse, or mini-poems — ones I’ve written and a few from other poets. I hope you’ll enjoy them.

Here’s one I wrote a few years back, and touched up a bit now:

Blazing peach and gold sunset
coddled by purple grey clouds
that seem to hold it back for us
to admire just a moment longer.

For awhile its glow delights us
but too soon, drawn beyond,
its gold slips into the treasury
of uncounted yesterdays.

Sunset.David Mark
Image by David Mark at Pixabay

A Frisson of Joy

The Ragtag Daily Prompt this morning is AESTHETICS

I’ve always seen this word as ESTHETICS; Merriam-Webster gives both spellings. This word refers to things that are beautiful or pleasing in appearance — which in turn means that so much could be written about this subject. You’re all welcome to hop over to the Ragtag Community and see what other bloggers are saying/showing in regard to aesthetics.

We’ve had fog for the last couple of days here; by yesterday evening this had settled into hoarfrost on all branches of all the trees. This morning we have a new fall of pure white snow to add to the scenic beauty.

When I check the free images sites like Pixabay and Unsplash, I can hardly pick one “asthethic” representation from the many images that please the eye. These scenes give a little frisson of joy; I can rejoice that in this imperfect world there are things — and people — of such amazing natural beauty. Granted, a lot of this beauty is planned and photos are shot with filters to enhance the colors. We mortals are ever striving to make things even more aesthetic.


But life isn’t all about dwelling in pleasant places, seeing lovely things. There’s that old saying that “If you can’t do what you love, love what you do.” To a homemaker, a muddy floor is anything but aesthetically pleasing, so we scrub it rather than live with the constantly irritating sight of dirt. Once it’s clean, it is pleasant to behold, plus we have that frisson of joy, the pleasant satisfaction of accomplishment.

Which reminds me that I need to work on some aesthetics this morning. 😉 Have a great day — or evening — everyone.

Summer Verse

Image by Jill Wellington — Pixabay


by Edgar Guest

Bees are in the blossoms,
birds are on the wing,
roses climb, and summertime
is kissing every thing.
Little pansy faces
wink and smile at me,
and far and near there’s not a tear
that human eye can see.

There’s beauty in the garden,
there’s beauty in the sky,
the stately phlox and hollyhocks
have put their sorrows by.
The gentle breath of summer
has blown the cares away;
all nature sings, for morning brings
another lovely day.

Yet some are blind to beauty
and some are deaf to song;
the troubled brow is heard to vow
that all the world is wrong.
And some display their sorrow,
and some bewail their woe
and some men sigh that love must die
and summertime must go.

From the book, Collected Verse of Edgar A. Guest
© 1934 by The Reilly & Lee Company

April Morning

In honour of National Poetry Month, I’m going to post two poems by one of my favourite poets of long ago, SARA TEASDALE


I went out on an April morning
All alone, for my heart was high,
I was a child of the shining meadow,
I was a sister of the sky.

There in the windy flood of morning
Longing lifted its weight from me,
Lost as a sob in the midst of cheering,
Swept as a sea-bird out to sea.

This next one is from her “Vignettes Overseas”


The moon grows out of the hills
a yellow flower;
the lake is a dreamy bride
who waits her hour.

Beauty has filled my heart,
it can hold no more;
it is full, as the lake is full,
from shore to shore.

STRESA appeared in The Collected Works of Sara Teasdale, first published in 1907.