Summer
a flux of flowers
colored petals swoon
sweep the frosty mind.
Upon the meadow
birds flock to feast
ripened seeds to spread
the wisdom of passing time.
Tag: voice
Gift Crow: Volume 1
Thank you to everyone who contributed to my first attempt at publishing. Creating the handmade book was a long journey from germination to tangible product.
I am now taking submissions for Volume 2, Edition 1, that will release in September. I have a new email wildheartarts33@pm.me Send 1-3 poems and a short bio. Look forward to reading new and old voices.
And I have been really busy. Not sure if anyone has noticed Ive been MIA. But I have missed you. Time to catch up soon.
I am shooting for a Mother’s Day weekend grand opening of my Little Free Library. My future son-in-law is a trained carpenter with North Bennett Street School. He did a fantastic job (albeit not quite complete) on the library structure. It resembles my studio Shed 33! And you can peek in the windows.
One last thing before I move on. I am trying out Instagram. Again. Under a new name… come follow me. I’d love to reconnect!
No Words at the Moment
Can you hear me
make home
in the silence of the woods
where i watch freshly fallen snow
absorb her howl.
And i walk with a limp.
My days blend one into another. My to-do projects never quite finished. Ever chasing what best resembles my thoughts.
knots: earth rests
Im tired of the blather
long to be whisked forth
where nature knows what is best.
Month in Review: B&W Style
Frida Sage or Fenny Hope? 
The first egg 
First season’s snow 20/21 
My first snowshoe walk 
Fruitlands 
Narnia 
Bare Hill Pond
Families
Families
Families
— Read on bereavedsingledad.blog/2020/12/27/families/
I enjoy Gary’s musings. This particular writing certainly felt familiar. Family is a funny thing. And the thing is, as terrible as 2020 was, it taught me an enormous pot of wisdom. And 2021 will be all the better for my new found knowledge and attempts to keep going forward. To dreams! To visions! To destiny!
Happy creating, Jeanne
Art Night
this jagged heart line
avoid the cracks midst the stones
criss cross hope to die
Winter Feast
If I stopped now
would i know tomorrow
the blurred foxglove in hand
the brandished iron in the other
staking the outcome by name.
If yesterday never arrived
do your best dear friend
to remember love
the petaled feet
I swept away, one-by-one, by hand.
Six Word Story (No. 10)
Six Word Story (No. 10)
Six Word Story (No. 10)
— Read on frosthidden.com/2020/12/12/six-word-story-no-10/
Lots of thought provoking 6-word stories…
Organic
Spring has run
the drifting fragrance
smells of dark
Her mad world
a blown leaf nestled
dew remains
