Imagine the Possibilities

It’s Poetry Friday!

I have seasons on my mind today for a couple of reasons. First of all, I was honored to get a request from a music teacher in Virginia to set my poem, “Winter Red,” to music for her 5th and 6th grade chorus. Her concert theme is colors across the seasons, and being unable to find an appropriate song for winter, she turned to poetry. An internet search brought up my poem shared here in 2023.

I also resurrected a poem about the seasons that I turned into a picture book. I first wrote it back in 2019 but haven’t worked on it for about two years. That’s when I had the privilege of attending a Highlights workshop with our incredible host for today, Irene Latham, and the wonderful Charles Waters. Irene’s suggestions helped me tremendously, and I continue to see new possibilities.

Lastly, it was my turn to offer a prompt to my poetry group, the Nevermores. I suggested we write 4×4 poems which I first learned about here from Poetry Friday friends Margaret Simon and Denise Krebs. Turns out I wrote a 4×4 poem about transitioning from summer to fall for Poetry Friday in 2021. Can you see all those wonderful connections to Poetry Friday? Thank you all for being such a supportive community and sharing your love of words.

For those of you unfamiliar with 4×4 poetry, the rules are:
4 syllables in each line
4 lines in each stanza
4 stanzas
4 times repeating a refrain line – line 1 in the first stanza, line 2 in the second, and so on.

Warm Days, Cool Nights

warm days, cool nights
flowers wilting
earth is tilting
away from sun

leaves languishing
warm days, cool nights
blushing orange
red and yellow

pesky squirrels
raid the feeders
warm days, cool nights
meant for stashing

seasons changing
time to harvest
plumping pumpkins
warm days, cool nights

Irene has the roundup today at Live Your Poem where she is giving us a peek at The Mistakes That Made Us available this week and a poem about a “little fawn made of twigs and moonspots” (sigh!). Be sure to stop by for lots of poetry goodness.

Last week I had the privilege of attending a special exhibit of Mary Cassatt’s work at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Some of the paintings were accompanied by early sketches so that viewers could see the study and revision work that were part of Cassatt’s process. Of course I couldn’t help thinking about revision in writing. I found so many parallels to writing in addition to revision – research, attention to detail, close study. Many of the works portrayed women reading newspapers and books, engaging in intellectual and political matters that were not popular during that period.

Mary Cassatt was constantly redefining herself and pushing herself to go beyond. She was an activist who worked in the suffrage movement and sought to portray the caregiving and creative activities of women as important work. The experience was truly inspirational.

I wrote a short poem in response to the painting “Lydia Crocheting in the Garden at Marley” (1880). I wondered what Lydia might be thinking. Perhaps she was planning ways to express creativity not just in her beautiful handwork, but also in her words, thoughts, and actions.

Lydia Crocheting

alone with her thoughts
gloved fingers loop the hook
mind and body transform
Draft, 2024RoseCappelli

Heidi has the roundup today at my juicy little universe. Be sure to stop by for a collaborative poem filled with imagination and lots more poetry goodness.

In my own version of The Sealey Challenge, I’m rereading or completing books of poetry I never quite finished. I’m ending the month with Billy Collins’ Aimless Love. Yesterday I read:

The Chairs That No One Sits In
by Billy Collins

You see them on porches and on lawns
down by the lakeside,
usually arranged in pairs implying a couple

who might sit there and look out
at the water or the big shade trees.
The trouble is you never see anyone

sitting in these forlorn chairs
though at one time it must have seemed   
a good place to stop and do nothing for a while.

You can read the rest here.

We have two chairs like that in our backyard where we sometimes sit if it’s not too hot. Lately, though, it has been hot, and the chairs have not gotten much use. But I started thinking about the night visitors to the garden that sometimes feast on flowers or plants. I wondered if perhaps they used the chairs to relax, too. As ridiculous as it sounds, I couldn’t get the image out of my head.

Two Blue Chairs

two blue chairs sit
side by side
under the shady maple

sometimes we sit
side by side
sipping cocktails
in the cool of the evening,
until heat overwhelms

giving way for deer and possum to sit
side by side
enjoying honeysuckle wine
under a midnight moon
Draft, 2024RoseCappelli

Susan at Chicken Spaghetti has the roundup today where she features a very clever poem by the late David Moody. Be sure to stop by for lots of poetry goodness.

I’m excited to be hosting Poetry Friday this week. If you don’t know what Poetry Friday is, check out this post from Renee LaTulippe.

Even though there are signs of fall in the air, I’m still basking in the warmth of summer sun, especially now that the temperatures are a bit cooler and the humidity is down. One of my favorite activities at the beach is getting up early to catch the first rays of sunshine. On my last morning, I was a bit late, but the sun was hiding, so I was able to catch it coming through the clouds. I started a poem, but it definitely needed more attention. I found some help from my poetry group, the Nevermores. We are studying line breaks, and Marcie suggested a revision exercise from Maggie Smith called “Make it and Break it.” (It appears in the book The Practicing Poet: Writing Beyond the Basics edited by Diane Lockward). The idea is to shift to prose to focus on the music of the poem, then when you are satisfied with how it sounds, returning to line breaks to decide how the poem will move. I did this and came up with a few different versions. Here’s one:

Catching the Sun in the Grey Fog of Morning

In the not-quite light
I stride to the edge of the sea
where tide meets moon-cooled sand.

Morning mist casts a shroud of uncertainty
over possibility
in a blue-grey sky above a hidden horizon.

Sand pipers and gulls
go about their business, undeterred.
It’s there, but where?

A pause to breathe, to set intentions,
to rekindle what we know to be true
before the ribbon of light rips through…

rising,
rising,
rising to begin.
Draft, 2024RoseCappelli

I know I used this picture in a previous post, but it’s from this experience.

Hope you will join us today. You can leave your link with Mister Linky.