Sunday Serenity: Mother’s Day

Posted on May 9, 2021 by ShakespearesGal

Born of my heart;
A shining beam
Manifest of a sacred dream.
I know your beauty.
You reflect me,
And I you.
And as our hearts sing
What more glorious music could there be
Twixt you and me?

Dedicated to my mother, and all who nurture and manifest from the heart.

Thanks for visiting …

Dorothy

~*~

Sunday Serenity: Painted Skies

Posted on January 24, 2021 by ShakespearesGal

~*~

Morning breaks and I arise

Look east to amber painted skies,

And view the light that fire brings

To waken nature’s sleeping things.

~*~

Thanks for visiting …

Dorothy

Remembering …

Posted on November 11, 2018 by ShakespearesGal

Remembrance II

~*~

Their blood was lost;

In battle died

While far away

Their mothers cried.

The war not theirs,

But fought they did

For noble cause

Their bodies bled.

With open heart

And focused mind

They gave their all

For humankind.

Remember them,

Forget them not,

Our precious freedom

Their lives bought.

~*~

Stream of consciousness words for a day of remembering.

~*~

Archie Gordon

A salute to my great uncle, Flight Engineer Archibald Don Gordon, Bomber Command 405 Squadron killed in action April 6, 1942 over the Bay of Biscay, France. He was 23 years old.

Thanks for visiting …

Dorothy

Day’s End

Posted on April 7, 2015 by ShakespearesGal

~*~

Mother Earth

Blanketed in warm embrace

Of setting sun.

Another day is done.

Father Moon

Singing silent lullaby;

A chorus of emerging stars

Twinkling their

“Good night …”

~*~

Thanks for visiting …

Dorothy

~*~

©Dorothy Chiotti … Aimwell CreativeWorks 2015

Just Another Sunset

Posted on March 12, 2014 by ShakespearesGal

Just another setting sun,

Another burning sky.

Another chance to bid the day

A lingering goodbye.

A fiery prelude to the night

Tired spirits to renew,

As nature’s warm enduring light

Now fades away from view.

~*~

Thanks for visiting …

Dorothy 🙂

©Dorothy Chiotti, Aimwell CreativeWorks 2014

Snow Can Be So Pretty

Posted on March 5, 2014 by ShakespearesGal

~*~

An eerie stillness permeates the air

And with the wind the trees doth creak and moan.

Their naked branches not so very bare;

As coat of ice doth shiver, shake and groan.

Ol’ Man of Winter hath his fury wrought

As Mother Nature weeps for what she’s lost.

The children of the Earth in tempest caught

Their innocence, as e’er, too high a cost.

The calm after the storm a vacant shock

As minds and hearts and souls themselves adjust

To what is lost of nature’s precious stock

And come to terms with this we children must.

For precious life to all of us is given,

But none of us are guaranteed to heaven.

~*~

I’ve started a new journal.

As I am inclined to do, I flipped through the pages of my last journal to see what I’d left behind and found this sonnet written during the great ice storm of Christmas week December 2013.

Written by candlelight, I imagine. I don’t remember. That week is such a blur. Surreal, I suppose.

I love trees and it distressed me to see them suffer under the volume of ice they bore.

Now, two months later, the only ice left is under foot, and this is a hazard all its own.

Perhaps a month from now the view will be green instead of white. Judging by the mountains of snow and three inches of ice underneath it, spring could be a long way away … and messy.

Still, snow can be so pretty.

Thanks for visiting,

Dorothy 🙂

~*~

©Dorothy Chiotti, Aimwell Creative Works

A Drive In the Country … Yorkshire Dales, England

Posted on December 17, 2013 by ShakespearesGal

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Not for the faint of heart

Those devil-dare roads

That wind and course

And spill o’er vale and rambling hill.

‘Tween walls of stone unyielding.

Scarce room to breathe as

Bumper whispers to bumper

“Take care o’er there by Malham Cove.”

As mists roll in a view obscured.

One dare not say, nor breathe, a word

As through the rolling roads we pass and

Pray for cushion of the grass.

Dorothy Chiotti
All Rights Reserved

~*~

Malham Cove

This short, haphazard poem was inspired by a rather haphazard drive through the Yorkshire Dales.

My husband wasn’t driving at the time. His uncle, who resides in Skipton, sped us through a jam-packed one-day excursion, which took us by many lovely ancient villages; up into the hills at Malham; over to Bolton Abbey and whatever else he could squeeze into a whirlwind tour.

The scenery was glorious. I really wish we could have spent more time there.

It was a long driving day and Lloyd’s uncle, who is 86 and has lived in the area for many years (and who swims 34 laps of a 25 metre pool four mornings a week), drove those familiar narrow, winding stone wall-lined roads like a speedway ~ that is to say FAST!!!

To be fair, everyone drives those roads ~ roads that were never designed for modern-day passing traffic ~ like speeding demons.

It’s all part of the charm, I suppose … and why it’s unlikely I shall ever take the wheel of a car in the Yorkshire Dales myself. 😉

~*~

While in England, in September, I adopted a bit of a writing experiment.

As we travelled by car around the country, my husband driving, I kept a blank-paged journal and a pen ever at hand to write down whatever inspired as we went.

It was a fun exercise which, apart from leaving me with a few inspired gems (and some jibberish, but that’s the creative process, right?) also instilled a greater sense of how much of my heart still resides in this land where I spent my formative years.

The view inspired, the memories flowed, my heart was filled and the words came.

I’ll be posting them as the spirit moves.

Thanks for visiting …

Dorothy 🙂

~*~

©Dorothy Chiotti, Aimwell CreativeWorks 2013