—Poetry by Kathy Kieth, Diamond Springs, CA
—Photos Courtesy of Public Domain
—Photos Courtesy of Public Domain
Sometimes a Poem Comes
with the close of a rose at the end of a long
hot summer day . . . Or on the wings
of the snowy owl as she glides to her nest
with her first catch of the night . . . In slow
twists and turns of the stained glass dove
that flashes pearlescence in my bedroom
window . . . Or the stretchings of the black
cat as he settles on the bedspread for a quick
nap after dinner . . . Sometimes poems come
from a hummingbird's last long pull of nectar
as she races to beat the rushing dusk . . . Or
you, coming in the door, still full of hope, even
after the dry heat of a long summer day . . .
__________________
Today’s LittleNip:
TALKIN’ TURKEY DAY
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA
Gobble-gobble!
Eatin’ lots of turkey.
Tryptophan kicks in.
Now you’re lying back,
Pushin’ buttons for your TV game.
You might be asleep before half-time.
___________________
Gratitude is a slippery beast; it can slide out of our fingers in the middle of the night and leave us alone in a dark wood. This old poem of mine reminds me of moments to cherish as the day passes, including those with the man who has been my partner for 45 years. Here’s to another 45, Sam the Snake Man!
___________________
—Medusa
with the close of a rose at the end of a long
hot summer day . . . Or on the wings
of the snowy owl as she glides to her nest
with her first catch of the night . . . In slow
twists and turns of the stained glass dove
that flashes pearlescence in my bedroom
window . . . Or the stretchings of the black
cat as he settles on the bedspread for a quick
nap after dinner . . . Sometimes poems come
from a hummingbird's last long pull of nectar
as she races to beat the rushing dusk . . . Or
you, coming in the door, still full of hope, even
after the dry heat of a long summer day . . .
__________________
Today’s LittleNip:
TALKIN’ TURKEY DAY
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA
Gobble-gobble!
Eatin’ lots of turkey.
Tryptophan kicks in.
Now you’re lying back,
Pushin’ buttons for your TV game.
You might be asleep before half-time.
___________________
Gratitude is a slippery beast; it can slide out of our fingers in the middle of the night and leave us alone in a dark wood. This old poem of mine reminds me of moments to cherish as the day passes, including those with the man who has been my partner for 45 years. Here’s to another 45, Sam the Snake Man!
___________________
—Medusa
For upcoming poetry happenings in
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
(http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html)
in the links at the top of this page—
and keep an eye on this link and on
the daily Kitchen for happenings
that might pop up
—or get changed!—
during the week.
Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
Find previous four-or-so posts by scrolling down
under today; or there's an "Older Posts" button
at the bottom of this column; or find previous poets
by typing the name of the poet or poem
into the little beige box at the top
left-hand side of today’s post; or go to
Medusa’s Rapsheet at the bottom of
the blue column at the right
to find the date you want.
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
All you have to do is send poetry and/or
photos and artwork to
kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world—including
that which was previously published—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
(http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html)
in the links at the top of this page—
and keep an eye on this link and on
the daily Kitchen for happenings
that might pop up
—or get changed!—
during the week.
Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
Find previous four-or-so posts by scrolling down
under today; or there's an "Older Posts" button
at the bottom of this column; or find previous poets
by typing the name of the poet or poem
into the little beige box at the top
left-hand side of today’s post; or go to
Medusa’s Rapsheet at the bottom of
the blue column at the right
to find the date you want.
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
All you have to do is send poetry and/or
photos and artwork to
kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world—including
that which was previously published—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
LittleSnake’s Glimmer of Hope
(A cookie from the Kitchen for today):
gratitude comes
in splashes
of sunlight on
folded hands—
blessed we are, indeed,
if we can just see it…