Tag: poetry

Happy birthday, Dylan Thomas!

This Friday, October 27, would have been Dylan Thomas’ 109th birthday, and although the Welsh poet lived barely 39 of those years, his words and spirit changed my life. I was not even born when he died in New York in November 1953 under mysterious circumstances. He’s still with me, such as in the Spring when the trees and flowers come to life, and these words emerge:

The force that through the green fuse drives the flower
Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees
Is my destroyer.

… Continue reading

Abundance: Pender’s Season of Apples

It’s hard to overstate my reverence for The Apple!

A perfect globe, a happy fruit that sits perfectly in hand. Its gentle heft, its smooth skin, even with imperfections, is beauty in itself. It’s a joy to behold, coloured brightly with reds, greens, yellows and a multitude of hues in between. Bring it to your nose and breathe in its fragrance.… Continue reading

Cheese Karma

An artful cheese board: Beautiful to some, but not this writer!

Confession time: I can’t eat cheese.

It’s true! While the world turns to cheese in everything gastronomic, I look the other way. When I order a burger or a salad, I remind the waiter, “No cheese, please,” to ensure no surprises. Scanning a menu, I look for two things: One, for something delicious and enticing, and two, for anything that contains cheese.… Continue reading

The Great Laugh

Laugh until the rock thoughts crack and snap off ...
Wave after wave of laughter!

Have you ever had one of those fits of uncontrollable laughter, so contagious and overpowering that you have no idea what started it in the first place? Once it gets going, everything someone says, every look, every facial tick sets off a new round of hilarity, shrieking, sore stomach muscles, shaken bladders.… Continue reading

Coffee, Tea, Hot Chocolate?

My morning ritual is making coffee: a café latte for Jennifer, a black pour-over for myself. It’s especially delicious, these bright sunny mornings, the blue sky, the birdsong, the clouds tinged a delicate pink. And the smells and sounds of the coffee-making.

It’s a way of ordering the mind, an awakening, a meditative and pleasurable task with each step.… Continue reading