morning sencha tea in forget-me-not antique mug š¤, writing by hand a new piece in my new Celtic journal Iād found at a bookstore in February, and papers if I want to continue revising a poem.
It is such a simple rich green design with a pleasant texture that my hands love to touch, and what Iād found to be the Celtic cross on the cover this new journal for writing my own poetic passages. And that is a sunbathing cat in the photo, Peeko.
What a cover! and what a shade of green š

And here is what I wrote today Iād like to share with you handwritten; this passage means a lot to me as I describe such an evocative moment:
She steps into the room as if through the window or maybe the patio door. It is Tuesday, the usual time we start the salon, 9 am. Has she moved through the glass? It was so simple. She walks toward me, her hair is gently spun and clasped with a dark, thin ribbon, salon oil smoothed through her soft, dark curls. Our eyes meet with profound recognition and subtle smiles. She leans down toward me, to face me, a soft kiss is placed upon my face, and her lips feel safe, the scent of the oil she wears is powder, flowers, and nectar, all spun together gently. She lingers near my neck and I the same, she clasps my hands in loving friendship, not counting the centuries our souls have already met.
A glimpse of my handwritten pages, just a rare inclusion š


āReaders, Can you read my handwriting?
Iād been enjoying some of my favorite Celtic writers at the time, John OāDonohue, a long-time favorite author with a new book of his added to my home library Anam Cara, W.B. Yeats, poet discovered by me at the local library and his best are great, the rest I may need more time for another time. Iād read a Yeatsā poem aloud. Not timed purposely for St. Patrickās Day but landing so.
Seamus Heaney, another poet picked up from the library as a remembered recommended poet, and the only one Iād felt to read in that selection of poetry books that day, a poet Iād remembered Iād never really understood. I understand the poetry better now, and I will be reading his Field Work poetry book very soon!
I am also looking forward to the wonderful writer and fellow friend on the blog, Luanne Castleās just released book, which features a fairytale retold through poems: Our Wolves.
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I have 3 outgoing poems I submitted: 1 poem was written for Indelible Issue on science, and the other 2 Iād found Journals to send each to that either featured the poemās form, or the style and theme of that poem.
On the table is also Faerie Queene Book 2 by Edmund Spenser, picked up at another local library. I am having fun comparing this book to Faery Queene 1 in mind, an epic poem series from a very humble Sir Edmund Spenser, medieval era, written in early modern English verse, completed: The Faerie Queene, Book 2: A Reflection that includes What the Author Could Have Been Thinking
Hereās a āthrowback,ā my cat Peekoās video of poetry introduction to his class lesson when I had first started schooling him; appropriately, the book is Faerie Queene 1:
šJade