Welcome!

Happy Poetry Friday, everybody! Time to pile up the poetry like turtles lounging in the sun.

This meme ruined being able to say that I hope this post finds you well:

So let's just say I'm glad you found this post! Today we have a pussy-willow poem and a call for the holiday poetry swap, as well as the round-up.

The Willow Cats
by Margaret Widdemer

They call them pussy-willows,
But there’s no cat to see
Except the little furry toes
That stick out on the tree:

I think that very long ago,
When I was just born new,
There must have been whole pussy-cats
Where just the toes stick through---

And every Spring it worries me,
I cannot ever find
Those willow-cats that ran away
And left their toes behind!

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It seems too early to be thinking about the holidays, but I didn't want let this chance to catch everyone pass me by! If you are interested in sending one poem and gift to a poetry friend, email me at tabathayeatts(at)gmail(dot)com. I will collect names until Halloween, and then in early November I'll send out swap info.

Paula Modersohn-Becker

I am becoming somebody – I'm living the most intensively happy period of my life. ~Paula in a letter to her sister Milly Rohland-Becker, May 1906

For Art Thursday, paintings by Paula Modersohn-Becker (1876-1907). When I chose her works, I didn't realize she died tragically of a postpartum embolism at age 31. I'm glad she caught my eye.

Mädchen am Ententeich
by Paula Modersohn-Becker

Old Peasant Woman
by Paula Modersohn-Becker

Elsbeth Modersohn on a red pillow
by Paula Modersohn-Becker

Old poor woman with a glass ball and poppies
by Paula Modersohn-Becker

Lee Hoetger and her sister
by Paula Modersohn-Becker

Faith, Hope and Love

As might be gathered from his music, Dvořák had an attractive personality.
~David Mathias Lloyd-Jones

For Music Monday, Antonín Dvořák's Mass in D performed by Brixner Initiative Musik Und Kirche. To me, it feels perfect for autumn. Time to warm up with layers of music.

Blessed cogs

Why isn't there a special name for the tops of your feet?
~Lily Tomlin

Happy Poetry Friday! Man, did I have a hard time choosing a poem for today. I finally settled on "About Standing (in Kinship)" by Chippewa poet Kimberly Blaeser.

Cat Foot by Kevin Dooley

About Standing (in Kinship)
By Kimberly Blaeser

We all have the same little bones in our foot
twenty-six with funny names like navicular.
Together they build something strong—
our foot arch a pyramid holding us up.
The bones don’t get casts when they break.
We tape them—one phalange to its neighbor for support.

read the rest here

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Imagine the Possibilities has the Poetry Friday round-up. Thanks, Rose!

Fossilized Tree Resin

The classical names for amber, Latin electrum and Ancient Greek ἤλεκτρον (ēlektron), are connected to a term ἠλέκτωρ (ēlektōr) meaning "beaming Sun". According to myth, when Phaëton son of Helios (the Sun) was killed, his mourning sisters became poplar trees, and their tears became elektron, amber. The word elektron gave rise to the words electric, electricity, and their relatives because of amber's ability to bear a charge of static electricity.
~Wikipedia

Amber for Art Thursday! The Amber room makes me feel a little queasy, to be honest, but I couldn't leave it out.

Amber necklace from 2000 to 1000 BCE
Rijks Museum voor Oudheden, Leiden, the Netherlands

Amber apple
photo by Pierre André Leclercq

Tree of Life
by Irina Gnatenko or Lyudmila Sakharova
photo by Kaliningrad Amber Combine

Amber Telephone, Vilnius, Lithuania
photo by Zairon

Amber ship
photo by Kristian Frisk

Amber room, Catherine Palace, Russia
photo by Jeanyfan

The same ship above, but with different lighting. (It looks completely different!)
The Amber Museum in Krakow, Poland
Amber Museum in Copenhagen

Roll the Bones

They say someday everybody dies alone
But hey
Who knows
Yeah, hey who knows
~Shakey Graves

I posted this song by Shakey Graves back in 2013. Today YouTube asked me if I wanted to hear Shakey and I was like YEAH.

For Music Monday, Shakey Graves with Roll the Bones:

Paws in the air

Every person, no matter what their wealth, is equally capable of practicing generosity.
~Thich Nhat Hanh

I thought about writing a generosity "chart poem," like I mentioned last week, but I am not sure how to rank generosities. Is forgiveness the greatest one? I could think myself into a muddle about this.

Instead I am pulling out Mary Oliver's generous Little Dog’s Rhapsody in the Night. Could there be a sweeter arrangement?

Little Dog’s Rhapsody in the Night
by Mary Oliver

He puts his cheek against mine
and makes small, expressive sounds.
And when I’m awake, or awake enough

he turns upside down, his four paws
in the air
and his eyes dark and fervent.

“Tell me you love me,” he says.

“Tell me again.”

Could there be a sweeter arrangement? Over and over
he gets to ask.
I get to tell.




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Kathryn Apel has the Poetry Friday round-up. Thanks, Kat! I will be heading off on Friday to celebrate my dad's 75th birthday on Saturday. Catch you later!