I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

25 August 2015


A woman – me –
sits alone
in a small garden

surrounded by 
trees and sky
no cat beside her

no man alive
inside house,
garden, anywhere.

In 'Play It Again' at 'imaginary garden with real toads' we are asked to revisit an earlier challenge: either lists, imagism, or encapsulating our own recurrent 'power image' in 25 words. I have tried to do all three at once. 

The three lists are very small: trees and sky; no cat ... no man; house, garden, anywhere. 
The bereavement theme is recurrent, sometimes people find it powerful, and it often includes being in that garden -- but I would hope to move away from it eventually. 
I'm not sure this is sufficiently descriptive to be Imagist. 
And just for the heck of it, I gave myself a syllabic pattern to adhere to, too.


  1. this is brilliant Rosemary, capturing all three at once...could feel the healing power of trees and sky in the lines....

  2. The balance between what is there and what isn't create that perfect atmosphere..

  3. Surrounded by sky and trees would be enough ~ The loss though is palpable ~

  4. I fear this being me someday. I selfishly hope that I'll depart before my husband. I can't bear the thought of being without him.
    My mother is a widow, three years now. She's a very stoic lady, and she doesn't care for pets. She seems to be getting along well enough without my father, although I wouldn't know if she wasn't. As I said, she's stoic. She wouldn't tell anyone if she were feeling down.
    Thank you for visiting us at poetryofthenetherworld.blogspot.com

  5. So poignant, Rosemary. And yet the woman still lives, creates, finds purpose and joy. No small feat!!!!!

  6. It seems lonely and haunting.


    A friend sent this to me, I enjoyed it and hope you will, too.


Comments are moderated and will be visible after being approved by the blog owner. If you can only comment anonymously, please include your name in the comment, just so I know who's talking to me.