Ocean Winds Shaped the Days We Kept (Perfect Childhood Poem)
A simple poem in a Chaucerian structure that conveys the simple innocence of a childhood along the Texas Gulf Coast.
A simple poem in a Chaucerian structure that conveys the simple innocence of a childhood along the Texas Gulf Coast.
Heart-felt culinary love prose in response to the dVerse Poets Pub prompt. Food is my love language… what’s yours?
A birthday wish of hunger and hopefulness from Kim of Glover Gardens upon reaching 60 years + 1.
Gordons Parks was a photographer, composer, author, poet, and film director, but more importantly for me, he was a prominent figure in my childhood and got into my psyche and my poetry.
Glover Gardens was bestowed the gift of a grandchild earlier this year. We’re calling him GK#1 here in the blog, perhaps to be followed by GK#2, GK#3, etc.
Sometimes, people die because they feel “less than”; they die because they think they’re alone. They think they’re the only ones crying in the night, because they’re crying alone and don’t feel safe enough to talk about it. We. Have. To Talk. About. It.
I realized that the ‘aboutness’ for Glover Gardens was waaaaaaay out of date. So there’s a new “About Glover Gardens” page. I’d love to hear from you!
Oh, Baby! We are over the Goodnight Moon with joy about the upcoming addition of Glover Gardens Grandkid #1.
A poem dedicated to my brother, a victim of suicide, who suffered in silence. Call the suicide prevention hotline at 800-273-8255.
Gumbo is a family treasure, seashells elicit childhood memories, and these napkin rings made with shells we found 40 years ago bring echoes of the past into the now.
A poem by Gordon Parks speaks of curiosity, wonder, celebration of life and nature, and the awesome, simple, dead-on-target mindfulness of children.
Another foot surgery, more musing, and some great meals provided by the Grill-Meister.
I have hundreds of cookbooks. Literally. It’s Mom’s Fault (thanks, Mom!) I’m a cookbook collector, or maybe even a cookbook pack rat. It might be a bit of a sickness. I’ve tried to slow it down, but for a while there, I was on a…
Family-memory stories gain a patina with age and become the stuff of legend. The Story of Chicken is one of those stories.
My dad was born 80 years ago today in West Texas as the Great Depression was coming to an end in the shadow of another Great War in Europe, a time before regular Americans realized we’d be involved in that war. With that backdrop and…
An elegy for three, from the one remaining. They live in my heart-theater, their voices all trumpets and whispers and hugs.
A poem from the heart on Mothers’ Day about the incredible blessing of having a kid.
The Glover Gardens response to the nomination from the A. JoAnn Blog for a Sunshine Blogger Award. I like that name: sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy.
