THE WRITE PLACE…

to find Patti Singleton these days.

Tag Archives: poetry


by 27 Comments

Birthdays; Cherished Memories Revisited

Paul swinging in the sunshine. PHALL PHOTO 2008

Paul swinging in the sunshine.
PHALL PHOTO 2008

I originally posted this just after I started my blog, and again in 2013, but I wanted re-post it in honor of Paul’s birth date this year. Paul loved celebration, surprises and family. I remember this last birthday before he was diagnosed with leukemia. We lined our merged five grand daughters up on the couch and took pictures. We so loved our little girlies :>)

Paul is/was a Leo and loved being in the lime light on his special day, okay, on any day. He was very quiet about his pride of place, but if you knew him well, loved him, you could see the glow of it in his bright blue eyes and that smile…

I gave him this 3-D NASCAR card that he kept next to his chair for months; he’d never seen anything like it and I think he loved it better than his actual gift. He loved getting gifts, but that was nothing compared to how he loved finding the perfect thing for someone special. He was very into the drama of giving gifts.

We went out to eat with friends 3 times a week and one of the places was at the local casino. While waiting in line, you pass the gift shop. We’d often have our friends hold our place in line, while we looked in the display cases. I’d oooh and ah over the pretty, shiny things, then we’d move back into the line waiting to get in for dinner.

That Christmas, I had a lot of gifts in all sorts of shapes and sizes. By the time all the gifts were opened, I saw what he had done. He used his casino points and bought me every piece of jewelry I had made noise about at the gift shop during the past year! Crazy guy. Thankfully, he also bought me a jewelry armoir to put it all in.

Enjoy…

A Piece of Our Story in Poetry

This is a piece of our story; the man I knew. This was written for his birthday, 11 months before cancer entered our lives.

20 Aug 2007

Paul teased me about writing a book for him, instead I wrote this poem for his 60th birthday.

Book of Paul…

He is everything wonderful that I ever needed,

handsomely wrapped up in one big tender man.

His rolling laughter leads to coughing fits;

spitting up water and vitamins,

and then falling off the bed!

A prankster to his core,

full of special surprises for all.

A memory-maker, his camera always within reach,

he records the Kodak moments of our lives.

His cards & gifts & little notes come from the heart,

and always meet their target.

He loves easily and deeply…

his children, grandchildren, his friends & me!

He would love to be a millionaire,

but he lives well, and is generous with what he has.

His tastes and beliefs are “traditional”,

yet he has an open mind and can embrace the non-traditional,

except food, of course!

He loves Taco Time, NASCAR, animal shows,

Funniest Videos, Cops and bad sci-fi movies.

Every day he says and does funny or special things for me,

he can calm me with only a look, or a touch.

He wants us together, no matter what,

and turns every errand into a “date”.

He acts crabby sometimes,

but just below the surface is a joke or a prank or a smile.

He notices the little things,

and always says “thank you”.

For a T-shirt and jeans guy,

he sure is a clothes horse!

He gives hugs and touches often,

he sings seriously and dances with a laugh.

Happy Birthday… With All My Love,

Patti

Sorry about the quality of this photo. I snapped it on my way out the door. This is Paul’s part of a little alter I have in my beach cave, for all those we’ve lost the last few years.

P1140494


by 14 Comments

A Bawdy Tune For The Gypsy Moon

Foggy Moon

On July 22nd, I woke from an afternoon nap, with this in my head. May cause raised eyebrows or blushes; not for the faint of heart 🙂

A Bawdy Tune For The Gypsy Moon

When I’m in the mood for a little fun and a few spicy sips,

I head to The Mermaid Saloon and watch for the ships!

 

I muss up my hair, dab some color on my eyes and lips,

add a basket of jewelry on ears, neck and wrists!

 

I dress for laughing and drinking

and dancing for hours, for catching that look,

then reeling them in and sinking the hook!

 

After hugs and hellos and downing a few,

I like to sing with the sailors who stand at the bar all askew!

 

Then I dance a few jigs with other merry-making women who know just what to do,

and last, but not least,

I like the never-kept, but promising kiss, of a one-eyed, tattooed, peg-legged stranger or two!

Patti Hall 2014

P1030073


by 25 Comments

A-Z April Challenge; X = Nightmares About Algebra

caution slippery sign

X + 2 = 5

X, even more than Y, brings back algebra angst—to the 10th power. In my sophomore year of high school my math teacher actually patted my hand and told me, “You’ll pass, don’t worry.” I was sobbing over pre-pre-algebra. The tears were not about failing the class. I was crying about not understanding and about him teaching me as if I already understood the secret fundamentals of math.

Fast forward to college. Still not a member of the secret society of math, I pulled up my big girl panties and gave it the old college try. This teacher was not willing to give me a passing grade and he had no idea how to speak the math-for-dummies language either. Math, especially algebra, brought out a lot of hidden anger in me. I was finally able to express that anger with some damn fine cussing. Not at the teacher. At least not to his face.

Later, I passed a basic algebra class (with a little help from my friends), but was still not given the secret codes to get me to the next level. Many years later, I had to go back and take, either college level algebra or probabilities and statistics. I took the p & s class. Somehow I achieved a “C,” that felt miraculously like an “A+.” It was the first “C” that I was ever proud of.

However, that p & s class really took the fun out of my lofty ideals of chance. When everything can be precisely predicted and calculated down to exact numbers…well, where’s the fun in that? I mean, if you look at the back at your lottery ticket and see that your chance of winning is 1 in 400 thousand trillions, why even get your hopes up and waste your dollar? I so wanted to waste that dollar, but p & s class prevented me. See what that class did to me?!

Of course, had I taken the college level algebra class, I don’t think I’d be sharing this nightmare with you…it would be difficult to type wearing a straight jacket.

Post script 

I give you, my faithful readers, one absolutely beautiful fact (the ONLY beautiful one) about algebra. The word “algebra” means “a reunion of broken parts.” Poetic, isn’t it? So, poetic, that I used it for the title of my book of poetry. I will let you know when I publish it.

Happy Equations,

Patti

1writeplacewordpress at gmail dot com or you can private message me on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/patti.hall.3950

 

Hey, I hope you find time to check out some of the other A-Z April Challenge blogs here:

http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com/p/a-to-z-challenge-sign-uplist-2014.html


by 25 Comments

One Year on Word Press. Thanks!

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

Yes, it has been a year since I began blogging. Even though it was very lonely the first few months, you eventually found me and have kept me going with your support and encouragement ever since. The secret to bringing folks to your blog is so simple: Get out and visit, comment and “like” other blogs. That’s it. Go forth and make friends :>)

PHALL PHOTO 2013

PHALL PHOTO 2013

Here’s how the first 6 months went for me. I didn’t know one blogger and had no idea how to blog. After a couple months of loneliness, I started searching for info about memoir and children’s writing and publishing. During my quest for info I started visiting other blogs, I made some friends. Adding photos to my posts seemed to bring more people to this little community. Popping in on Twitter, Facebook and other social media sites, really brought some new faces to The Write Place.

I hope to add some highlights of the second half of my first year in the next few days, but for now, here is what I was up to my first six months…

PHALL PHOTO 2013

PHALL PHOTO 2013

Six entries in March 2013, including things like:

I posted a quote that seemed to fit my state of mind as I began this new endeavor of public blogging, writing and (hopefully) publishing. “Do not hurry, do not rest,” by Goethe. As fast as I wanted to get started, I knew that I also wanted to take my time and not make a bunch of (public) mistakes.

I was unsure of what/how to begin, but decided to use my long dormant maiden name for my writing. I posted a poem inspired by my mother, who instilled the love of reading and humor in me. Another poem that I posted that first month reflected the pain of the sudden and unexpected loss of one of my sisters the year before.

Sunrise at Westhaven Beach 3

Sunrise at Westhaven Beach, WA w/Coast Guard Tower. Phall Photo 2013  

The post, Keeper Book Synopsis, http://wp.me/p3i5jo-x tells the genesis story of the handcrafted “Keepers” that my friend (Leslee) and I created years ago. My hopes are to publish the stories that I wrote for each one. I also finished typing a 2500 word story that I wrote for my children in 1996.

The last entry of March 2013 says, in part, “I woke up this morning, well, it was really almost 11. Anyway, I was looking around and my eye caught on some star wands that I need to give my granddaughters, from a mutual friend. Soon I had a story rumbling in my head and I was off. I have been writing and editing all damn day long, and half the night! I made some coffee, finally ate a snack, packed some things for my move [home relocation] tomorrow and wrote like crazy. I completed a children’s story 10 words shy of 4000 words. Crazy. It just came out. Does it happen like that for you? And, hey, I have no illusions that this would not get whittled in half by a real editor, but I’m good with that. It is the process that is so…gripping, so addictive.”

April- 12 entries. This was my third month going to the local writer group that I joined, and I posted,  “Have been checking out and “following” several other writer blogs. Have been “invited” to join a writer site that allows us to give and receive feed-back. I am learning about the current trends in writing and publishing…” Another entry, Good Grief, A Widow Writes A Memoir, http://wp.me/p3i5jo-V explains some of the things I was learning about memoir writing and how painful it can be to write about Paul’s illness and death. Still is.

Breakfast for fawn. Across from my driveway. PHALL PHOTO 2013

Breakfast for fawn. Across from my driveway.
PHALL PHOTO 2013

I posted about a writer retreat and a writer conference in Homer, Alaska, which is also home to one of my sisters and her husband. I began taking a writing class taught by a local writer, and I met several other writers there. I posted a poem that I wrote for Paul’s 60th birthday in 2007. I made an ambitious attempt at a blogging schedule. Hilarious, if you really know me; the “s” word and me are not close.

I signed onto several more social media venues and shared some sites with helpful information for writers. I touched on some newsy information in one post, about the way technology is taking away our privacy. I wrote a poem about the deaths and injuries in the Boston marathon bombing and the explosion in Texas. I posted a short story about a child molester/monster.

Kites down on beach. PHALL PHOTO 2013

Kites down on beach.
PHALL PHOTO 2013

I moved Maggie (my trailer/cave/home) from the bay outside of Westport, into Westport proper and closer to the beach. The worst shock and heartache of my life happened on the 26th, when my grandson died. Still dealing with the other recent losses in my life, I stopped blogging for awhile.

May- 13 entries. I lost my mind a bit, but returned to blogging late in the month, with 2 poems on grief and loss. Lady In The Cave http://wp.me/p3i5jo-1N and Treasured Souls http://wp.me/p3i5jo-1P  were followed by a post complaining about the new parameters for the medical definition of grief. I wrote a few other poems/essays and shared some of the writing/publishing information that I was learning. Still very few visitors or followers on my blog, but I kept on. This was my first poetry/photo combo post: Beach Bird Bliss http://wp.me/p3i5jo-2c and it made me realize how much readers enjoy photos along with the words.

Fresh seed pod on tree. PHALL PHOTO 2013 Panasonic Lumix DMC-ZS19

Fresh seed pod on tree.
PHALL PHOTO 2013
Panasonic Lumix DMC-ZS19

June- 22 entries. This was a very busy writing month and I had some fun with the essay, Things That Go Rrrrr, Crash, and Drip In The Night http://wp.me/p3i5jo-4w. I also got better at working with photos and started posting photos for Word Press Daily Prompts and Weekly Photo Challenges. I posted quite a bit under Writing Journal as I learned about and organized for successful memoir writing. The post, New! Dedicated Memoir Page and Sneak Peek of Prologue http://wp.me/p3i5jo-3m tells the story of how I got from the house that Paul and I shared, to living at the beach. What I Would Tell You Now http://wp.me/p3i5jo-3v is a letter to my late husband, written long after he was gone. I also started writing and submitting book reviews this month.

Butterfly on Flower in my friend's garden. Phall Photo 2013

Butterfly on Flower in my friend’s garden.
Phall Photo 2013

These are busy days, but I will try to post the summary of July-December 2013, in the next few days… Still not smoking and happy about it, over 2 months later!!!!!!!! Was thrilled to know that one of my sisters quit smoking 4 days ago too. So cool.

Happy Almost Spring!

Patti

Thistles PHALL PHOTO 2013

Thistles
PHALL PHOTO 2013

 


by 35 Comments

Heart Room

060

“It is funny how you do not miss affection until it is given, but once it is, it can never be enough; you would drown in it if possible.” Libba Bray, The Sweet Far Thing

The Heart Room Door

The heart cracked and broke into all those pieces and rolled across the floor.

Grief stricken and shaken by the mounting losses, I ran straight out of the door.

I pulled it closed behind me. “Click” went the lock, then I swallowed down the key.

Further along the hallway, I curled into a closet, to mend what little was left of me.

Years went by; I patched the leaking eyes and embroidered an acceptable smile.

Still, and even so, opening that closet door would take a good long while.

Like shiny pieces of mercury, the heart fragments rolled and bumped along the floor,

eventually, they melded together, and slipped right under the heart room door.

Down the hall, in the closet, the door opened slowly and all I could do was stare:

the heart was whole, held gently in your hands, as you pulled me in to begin the repair.

Patti Hall 2014


by 24 Comments

Winter Ready, In Thoughts and Photos

Fall taps Winter on the shoulder, "My colors can't get much boulder, it's time for crisp winter white, long dark day, to cold, cold night."

Fall taps Winter on the shoulder,
“My colors can’t get much bolder,
it’s time for crisp winter white,
long dark day, to cold, cold night.”

The red-headed Green Man fully agrees, "Leafs, yellow and brown are up to my knees, I've talked to the creatures; they say they're ready, They've packed their homes, slow and steady."

The red-headed Green Man fully agrees,
“Leafs, yellow and brown are up to my knees,
I’ve talked to the creatures; they say they’re ready,
They’ve packed their homes, slow and steady.”

Seed pods stand strong, ready for the cold, ready to winter-dream of being green and bold.

Seed pods stand strong, ready for the cold,
ready to winter-dream of being green and bold.

Strong winds will sail them far and wide, A blanket of snow will give them places to hide.

Strong winds will sail them far and wide,
A blanket of snow will give them places to hide.

Patti Hall 2013

PHALL PHOTOS 2013


by 10 Comments

This One Is For Leslee; The Silk Ribbons of Friendship

Fall = Pumpkins and Corn=Leslee Phall Photo 2013

Fall = Pumpkins and Corn and…
Phall Photo 2013

Fall’s magic and joy

shines from her heart to her eyes

corn stalks and pumpkins

Of all the people on this planet that I know, no one brings the magic and joy of each holiday to life, as Leslee does. Halloween and Christmas are her yearly pedestal projects, but oh, her Valentine and birthday creations are also grand. She beckons the inner child from anyone in her orbit, and sings the fairies from their hiding places.

Sadly, Leslee has been out of my orbit for too many years. She’s getting closer though, and once I knew that she was back in…I began to feel a girlish giggle and a fairy’s impish grin emerge from somewhere deep within. They swim up through the pain and loss that I have experienced in her absence. What wonders will now be unleashed?

Within about 18 months, 25 years ago, I met four incredibly strong and supportive women. Leslee was one of them. The other three, Gwen, Vickie and Roxanne, each have special ribbons that bond us together. If I had to pick one word for the ribbon that connects me to each, it would be humor for Gwen, strength for Vickie, and spirit for Roxanne. Of course, they are all a mixture of those, and many other beautiful silk ribbons.

This writing inspires me to remind us all to write a love/friendship letter to those that we share that special ribbon with. Have I ever told Gwen how much her laughter means to me, or Vickie, how her steadfast strength has always helped keep my feet on the ground, or Roxanne, how her gentle spirit soothes me like a babe in arms? And Leslee, how the fairies welcome me into their circle when she is in my life? She sets my imagination free.

Peace,

Patti


by 23 Comments

Poetry Post Inspired by Some Facebook Friends

Molokai, Hawaii I wonder... PHALL PHOTO 2013

Molokai, Hawaii
I wonder…
PHALL PHOTO 2013

Had a lively conversation on FB last night, in which we all offered up some of our favorite poets. I volunteered to post our list, so others might add to it.

Mary Oliver: “Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?”
― Mary Oliver, New and Selected Poems

Rainer Marie Rilke: “Do not assume that he who seeks to comfort you now, lives untroubled among the simple and quiet words that sometimes do you good. His life may also have much sadness and difficulty, that remains far beyond yours. Were it otherwise, he would never have been able to find these words.”
― Rainer Maria Rilke

Antonio Machado: “In order to write poetry, you must first invent a poet who will write it.”
― Antonio Machado

Francis Ponge: “My mother was an admirer of a little-known French writer whose name was Francis Ponge, a sort of parody name. Ponge was a man after my mother’s own heart. Ponge wrote in minute detail about the appearance of such things as sand and mimosa and soap. Soap particularly fascinated him. Ponge wrote long essays on the appearance of soap, page after page of descriptions of soap. He wrote a novel titled Soap. My mother translated some of his poetry. This also concerned soap.” – Jonathan Miller, in ‘Among Chickens’, Granta (159)

Rumi: “I want to see you.

Know your voice.

Recognize you when you
first come ’round the corner.

Sense your scent when I come
into a room you’ve just left.

Know the lift of your heel,
the glide of your foot.

Become familiar with the way
you purse your lips
then let them part,
just the slightest bit,
when I lean in to your space
and kiss you.

I want to know the joy
of how you whisper
“more”
― Rumi

William Stafford: “I have woven a parachute out of everything broken.”
― William Edgar Stafford

Emerson: “What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.”
― Ralph Waldo Emerson

Naomi Shihab Nye:  Elaine Mansfield and her late husband, Vic, opened (E) and closed (V) their books with the exceptional poem, “Kindness.”

Here is another special Nye poem that I love:

“I’m like the weather, never really can predict when this rain cloud’s gonna burst; when it’s the high or it’s the low, when you might need a light jacket.

Sometimes I’m the slush that sticks to the bottom of your work pants, but I can easily be the melting snowflakes clinging to your long lashes.

I know that some people like:

sunny and seventy-five,
sunny and seventy-five,
sunny and seventy-five,

but you take me as I am and never
forget to pack an umbrella.”
― Naomi Shihab Nye, Time You Let Me In: 25 Poets under 25

Neruda: “I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.”
― Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets

Sharon Olds: 

”… to a poet, the human community is like the community of birds to a bird, singing to each other. Love is one of the reasons we are singing to one another, love of language itself, love of sound, love of singing itself, and love of the other birds.”

Sharon Olds (b. 1942), U.S. poet. As quoted in Listen to Their Voices, ch. 18 (1993). On why writing poetry, though “always difficult,” is easier than not writing it.

John O’Donohue:  “If you send out goodness from yourself, or if you share that which is happy or good within you, it will all come back to you multiplied ten thousand times. In the kingdom of love there is no competition; there is no possessiveness or control. The more love you give away, the more love you will have.”
Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom

David Whyte: “The poet lives and writes at the frontier between deep internal experience and the revelations of the outer world. There is no going back for the poet once this frontier has been reached; a new territory is visible and what has been said cannot be unsaid. The discipline of poetry is in overhearing yourself say difficult truths from which it is impossible to retreat. Poetry is a break for freedom. In a sense all poems are good; all poems are an emblem of courage and the attempt to say the unsayable; but only a few are able to speak to something universal yet personal and distinct at the same time; to create a door through which others can walk into what previously seemed unobtainable realms, in the passage of a few short lines.”
― David Whyte

Contributors to our list: Elaine Mansfield, Joseph Anthony, KåyMä-rie Liå, & Mary Friedel-Hunt.

We would love to add your poets to our growing list. Oh, and add a note about why you love your poet/s.


by 19 Comments

Book Review: Dog Songs by Mary Oliver

 

Dog Songs by Mary Oliver
Dog Songs
by Mary Oliver

Patti Hall‘s review

Sep 22, 13
Recommended for: Lovers of dogs, pets, poetry and nature.
Read from September 20 to 22, 2013, read count: 2

I won an ARC (advanced reader copy) of Dog Songs through a Goodreads and publisher book giveaway.

One of my best friends turned me on to Mary Oliver several years ago, and I have been hooked ever since. Mary’s poetry is clear, concise and loving to the small things in this world that many of the rest of us simply overlook. If there is any uncertainty in her writing, it is about something that she notices and then questions. Otherwise, you will find no ambiguity in her words.

About Dog Songs? You are going to love it! Mary’s new book begins with a puppy, of course, and then we learn all the things that she (and most of us) love about dogs. She says that the thing these furry friends have that we humans just don’t, their secret ingredient, if you will, is steadfastness.

There are so many places in this book that I smiled, laughed and teared-up. While Mary shows the many nuances of these animals, she also shines light and love on their connection to our own species. She adds word to word, sentence to sentence, to offer up another poem that shows our bonds; dog to human, bound in pure love.

Mary doesn’t hide reality under the rug either. Dogs aren’t always that cute, they have gross and annoying habits, and they (sadly) have relatively short life-spans. While you read, please notice the way Mary touches her dogs. It is subtle, but do you feel the reverence?

It’s all here, in this little white book. The beautiful pen and ink illustrations by John Burgoyne are as clear and concise as Mary’s words. There’s nothing overly sweet, silly or gushy in her words, yet the dog songs may make you feel that way.

I am surrounded by gushy dog-lovers. Almost every person in my circle is a gushy dog-lover. I am not. I am a plant-animal-bug-tree-sky-water-lover. And not gushy at all. I do hear all of their songs though.


by 10 Comments

I Won Mary Oliver’s New Book, Dogs Songs!

 Mary Oliver is one of my favorite poets, so this is very cool to have won this advanced copy. Oops, almost forgot, this is from Goodreads site.

Book Giveaway For Dog Songs

  • Dog Songs by Mary Oliver
    Dog Songs
    by Mary Oliver

    Release date: Oct 08, 2013
    Enter to win an advance copy of the latest collection of poems from Mary Oliver, DOG SONGS!–Threaded throughout Mary Oliver’s many collections, there…more

    Congrats! You’re a winner!

    Books usually arrive within 4-6 weeks.

    Giveaway dates: Aug 26 – Sep 13, 2013
    10 copies available, 676 people requesting
    Countries available: US


by 17 Comments

Summer In Alaska; A Fishy Tale

Patti fishing in Alaska
Patti fishing in Alaska
This was written for a story prompt at The Community Storyboard here. It combines experiences from several summer trips to Homer, Alaska. Need to study up on formatting poetry on WP…Also, since I wrote this off the cuff and in a hurry, let’s just call it a draft? :>)

It’s a promising morn, as I see from Outhouse Hill,

I rock in the swing and sip coffee to ward off the chill.

All is sunrise quiet on little Peterson Bay.

There’s Marie at the oyster farm unpacking to stay.

I take the lush green path slowly to make the morning last,

Then detour to pick blueberries for my impromptu breakfast.

We bundle up, grab cameras, snacks and bait,

Captain Honey calls, “Hurry, it’s getting late!”

He goes first to the shore and pulls in the skiff.

I climb down the steep metal stairs, feeling old and stiff.

From skiff, to dock and onto their boat;

This procedure is new for me, for them it is rote.

Captain throttles down and away we go!

Goodbye Peterson’s Bay and Halibut Cove.

The boat, she’s made special, out of stainless steel,

Loaded with all we need, including more than one rod and reel.

The co-pilot, The Mrs. (my sis), is a long time veteran of this—

how far, how deep, how many and what kind of fish.

On the far shore we see a baby bear and perched eagles.

Then Gull Island; cormorants, puffins and a million sea gulls.

I sit in back and watch the rooster tail as the boat splits the water,

I see all kinds of birds diving or floating and, every so often, a playful otter.

Soon I see the Homer Spit and Land’s End as we speed by,

I’ve never deep sea fished and I’m anxious to give it a try.

The loud noise of the engine and the wind in my hair,

My butt is freezing on the cold metal box that I use as a chair.

I’m excited and happy after so many months of grief,

And I’m determined to have fun, no matter how brief.

The engine finally stops and here comes Captain Honey,

He tosses the anchor, as the day begins to turn sunny.

Thirty miles out and I have beginner’s luck,

I catch the biggest and the most; at least that’s the story that stuck!

At one point, we were moving to a new spot and off flew my hat,

Mrs. Captain Honey reversed and the Captain netted it—imagine that!

Sis is a pro at this fishing stuff and also stronger than me;

She helped hold my rod, while I reeled in a fish…or three.

I’m giddy as we reel in halibut and cod,

And even a clown fish, which looks really really odd.

Sis and I are reeling them in left and right and I hook a big skate with wings,

Captain stopped fishing to gaff our catches, cut bait and do other important things.

Out of nowhere, in the middle of all that the blue,

There’s a spout of water…then two!

After that we soon spot the tails,

In no time at all we’re surrounded by whales!

I can’t get over it; I watch until they swim out of sight.

Now we’ve caught our limit and we’ll feast tonight!

Settling in for the long ride back to the cabin,

I’m sorry my visit will soon come to an end.

The boat points to Katchemak Bay as we go,

I’m in the back looking in amazement at an active volcano.

There’s a huge white plume, against the blue,

Over to my right are the other two.

Volcanoes and glaciers make this a special place to be,

But better than that, is the time I get to spend with my family.

Patti Hall 2013


by 21 Comments

Birthdays; Cherished Memories Revisited

Paul swinging in the sunshine. PHALL PHOTO 2008

Paul swinging in the sunshine.
PHALL PHOTO 2008

I originally posted this just after I started my blog, and again in 2013, but I wanted re-post it in honor of Paul’s birth date this year. Paul loved celebration, surprises and family. I remember this last birthday before he was diagnosed with leukemia. We lined our merged five grand daughters up on the couch and took pictures. We so loved our little girlies :>)

Paul is/was a Leo and loved being in the lime light on his special day, okay, on any day. He was very quiet about his pride of place, but if you knew him well, loved him, you could see the glow of it in his bright blue eyes and that smile…

I gave him this 3-D NASCAR card that he kept next to his chair for months; he’d never seen anything like it and I think he loved it better than his actual gift. He loved getting gifts, but that was nothing compared to how he loved finding the perfect thing for someone special. He was very into the drama of giving gifts.

We went out to eat with friends 3 times a week and one of the places was at the local casino. While waiting in line, you pass the gift shop. We’d often have our friends hold our place in line, while we looked in the display cases. I’d oooh and ah over the pretty, shiny things, then we’d move back into the line waiting to get in for dinner.

That Christmas, I had a lot of gifts in all sorts of shapes and sizes. By the time all the gifts were opened, I saw what he had done. He used his casino points and bought me every piece of jewelry I had made noise about at the gift shop during the past year! Crazy guy. Thankfully, he also bought me a jewelry armoir to put it all in.

Enjoy…

A Piece of Our Story in Poetry

This is a piece of our story; the man I knew. This was written for his birthday, 11 months before cancer entered our lives.

20 Aug 2007

Paul teased me about writing a book for him, instead I wrote this poem for his 60th birthday.

Book of Paul…

He is everything wonderful that I ever needed,

handsomely wrapped up in one big tender man.

His rolling laughter leads to coughing fits;

spitting up water and vitamins,

and then falling off the bed!

A prankster to his core,

full of special surprises for all.

A memory-maker, his camera always within reach,

he records the Kodak moments of our lives.

His cards & gifts & little notes come from the heart,

and always meet their target.

He loves easily and deeply…

his children, grandchildren, his friends & me!

He would love to be a millionaire,

but he lives well, and is generous with what he has.

His tastes and beliefs are “traditional”,

yet he has an open mind and can embrace the non-traditional,

except food, of course!

He loves Taco Time, NASCAR, animal shows,

Funniest Videos, Cops and bad sci-fi movies.

Every day he says and does funny or special things for me,

he can calm me with only a look, or a touch.

He wants us together, no matter what,

and turns every errand into a “date”.

He acts crabby sometimes,

but just below the surface is a joke or a prank or a smile.

He notices the little things,

and always says “thank you”.

For a T-shirt and jeans guy,

he sure is a clothes horse!

He gives hugs and touches often,

he sings seriously and dances with a laugh.

Happy Birthday… With All My Love,

Patti

Sorry about the quality of this photo. I snapped it on my way out the door. This is Paul’s part of a little alter I have in my beach cave, for all those we’ve lost the last few years.

P1140494


by 7 Comments

6 Places I Go To Write Online and A Writer’s Poem

Writing All Alone?

Yes, writing is a solitary endeavor,

we lock the doors to write forever.

Close the curtains so they think we’re gone,

fingers ache when the muse is on.

Cell phone switched to silent mode,

so, what do we do in our lonely abode?

Facebook, Twitter, Likedin and blog,

we talk about writing and the hours we log!

copyright 2013 Patti Hall

That’s just the way it is with the writers I know in these techy days we live in. However, I am also logging hours by submitting my writing to fellow writers to comment on or critique. Below are the main places I go to write. Try them yourself, you’ll see what I mean. Most of these require you to submit author bio and writing sample to join.

http://thewritingsociety.ning.com/
The Memoir Writing Society  Still finding my place here.

http://www.shewrites.com
She Writes, I am also a member of several groups here. An incredibly friendly, large group of writers.

http://www.everywritersresource.com I’ve submitted poetry for a contest here, but lots of resources and opportunities to submit.

http://lauradavis.net/roadmap/
The Writer’s Journey Roadmap  Not a critique group, just a bunch of us writing personal essays & poetry from weekly writing prompts. This is a warm cozy place.

http://www.campnanowrimo.org
writers camp starts in July, goal: 50,000 words and a  finished work. Am I nervous? You betcha’!

http://www.fictionaut.com
A writer’s group where I submit writing and comment on other’s writing. Huge inspiration for me. Many well-published authors here, along with newbies like me.

Where do you go to write online? Questions, answers and comments welcome. Please take a moment to say hello.

See you soon,

Patti


by 1 Comment

Copyrights, Tags, and Book Reviews

I started a post earlier today and it turned into an essay of over 1000 words, so I set it aside for another project. It almost feels like I am in a race; against what, against who, I do not know. I’m learning so much that I’ve started using the sticky note program on my desktop. That’s what I’ll base this post on.

I’ve learned that copyright notices are seen as kind of silly in the writing world. As soon as you put your thoughts in writing they are considered yours alone. Now, if you want to sue someone for stealing your work, it needs a copyright. From what I learned, that is pretty rare. The belief that mailing your work to yourself, and then leaving it sealed, will prove ownership has never been cited in any court case. Sorry Gwen. Creative Commons, as I have on the website here, are now the used to let people know what is acceptable use of their writing. The other thing I see a lot is: MAY NOT BE REPRODUCED WITHOUT PERMISSION.

I’ve learned more about the importance of tagging these blogs, so that they get caught in the right search engines. Submitting to online journals will also get my name out into the circle that I want them. Book reviews of books within my writing topic–children’s stories, poetry, and memoirs–also get me in the loop.

Here I go, back to my writing world…

Patti

 

 


by 6 Comments

Beach Bird Bliss

This day, oh, this day…

shoved joy and gratitude in my face,

then tossed in beauty and just a touch of grace.

Piping Plover

A Piping Plover set my sorrows by the side,

nabbing morsels when it could,

then racing from the tide.

Junior Eagle

Junior Eagle perched proudly on his driftwood post,

with wind-blown feathers and orange socks,

landing there to remind me just what matters most.

Caspian Terns and Gulls Dance

Caspian Terns show grace is close at hand;

trading secrets with the poor plain seagull,

they hold potlucks and dances on the sand.

Crow fled the scene

The wind picked up and the sky began to grey,

dry sand raced across the beach,

then beautiful Crow and I fled the scene, calling it a day.

This day, oh, this day…

shoved joy and gratitude in my face,

then tossed in beauty and just  a touch of grace.

Patti Hall

I took these pics yesterday on Bonge Beach & wrote the poem last night.

Click on the pics to make larger.