Under blue heavens
we listen to the waves roll,
sand between our toes
This year’s theme for Earth Day is Restore Our Earth. This includes goals and actions such as reforestation, regenerative agriculture and sustainable food, plastic cleanups, climate literacy, and citizen science.
Each and every one of us can play a part in healing and preserving our environment.
On my morning jaunt outside,
I believe I see Maisie again.
Just when I thought
I was over her,
from the corner of my eye
I see her step, sylphlike,
through the wind-riven grass
—a slim, graceful shadow.
My heart leaps.
The idea of her, home—
on Perry’s Point once more!
Joy flashes, like
the spangle of sun
upon the ocean around me.
A dream, a wish, short-lived.
As the chill of the first winter
without her closes in,
I will miss the cuddles,
the companionable silences,
the nose bumps,
our years of moments shared
ever since we were wombmates.
I won’t dwell on
what once was. Instead,
I will carry my sister with me
until we meet again.
Maisie, you may have left Perry’s Point
but you will never leave our hearts!
♥♥♥
In case you missed it: Sad News
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Close of hot June day—
soft sea breeze, high crescent moon,
cool waves kiss the shore.
We’ve enjoyed a bit of a heat wave this past week, an unusually early occurrence here in the easternmost province of Canada.
I call it a bonus because our summers are notoriously short, and after a long winter and spring, warm sun-filled days are more than welcome. I’m also grateful for the coastal breezes that keep things temperate.
This is my contribution to A Photo a Week Challenge: Dusk – nancy merrill photography
mother’s day weekend 2013
Today, June 14th,
is my girl’s birthday.
Since the first moment I held her
and gazed into her eyes
when I was just eighteen,
she’s been as constant in my life as the stars.
I wonder if she realizes
how much she has enriched my life,
how proud I am of her and
how happy I am to be her mom, because
she is more than a daughter to me.
She is my friend.
♥
Happy Birthday,
** Denise **
♥
“A daughter is one of the most beautiful gifts this world has to give.” ~ Laurel Atherton
*This is one of my evergreen posts, first published here in 2013.
In the midst of the pandemic as well as my deep despair over everything that is going on in the world right now, comes a welcome respite of joy and gratitude.
My only sister and her husband became grandparents last night, to a perfect little girl who was longed for and whose mom went nine days overdue before finally going into labour late yesterday morning. I am brimming with happiness for them all.
Due to Covid-19 restrictions, my nephew was only permitted to stay in the hospital during labour and delivery, so like my sister and her husband and her other grandparents, he now has to wait until mother and baby are discharged to be with them.
A side note: when this same nephew was a baby and my firstborn was a young girl, she absolutely adored him. How do I know? Back then, she had a locket. She kept a pic of him in that locket along with a pic of herself. I smile whenever I think of it.
I can’t help but recall how thrilled I was when I became a grandmother fourteen years ago, to a dear little bundle who felt like a gift from heaven for all of us. And now my memories take me back to the day my own daughter was born.
I became a mom when I was barely a woman myself. So young I was, a child having a child. It didn’t take long, though, for me to make my baby a priority and to fall in love in a way I never had before.
Eight years ago, I wrote a short poem about it.
Baby Love
Remembering that day in June
when you were small and pink and new
your needs so urgent, your helplessness
eclipsing all I’d planned to do
Your eyes, the bluest I’ve ever seen
gazed into mine, I drank you in
strawberry mark on your behind
that perfect dimple in your chin
The tiny o your lips would make
when, nursing done, you fell asleep
that newborn smell, the lightest heft—
who knew that love could feel so deep?
What are you grateful for today?
On the cusp of her dark autumn
November gathers and descends
once bright in October’s glow
her fallen raiment of gold
now flies upon the wind.
Stiff limbs scrape the starless sky
mute shadows fill her spaces
so no one sees the cracks
wrought by her many seasons
of frost and limp regret.
©J.K. Perry
***
*Photo taken November 14, 2019 in Grand Falls-Windsor
Nighttime and Here I Stand:
2 titles in #2019picoftheweek challenge. For details see MariaAntonia
Now that summer has officially arrived–at least according to the calendar–I’m sharing an evergreen summer post from July 2015. Happy Sunday, everyone, and have a wonderful week!
*Selected verses from Summer, a poem by Jennifer Kelland Perry, 2012
Photos ©2015 jenniferkellandperry.com
Flashback to eight years ago this week: Beautiful Rome, the first destination of our 3-week trip to Italy and France. We hope to return to Europe within the next few years–the UK this time–and I can hardly wait.
A little verse I wrote in Rome:
Roma
The click on terracotta tile
a welcoming staccato beat
quick-sure heels on cobblestone
we join the rhythm on the street.
Mellifluous foreign banter
fill sidewalk cafes and bars
laughter tinkling, glasses clinking
under the Italian stars.
Heady scent of sweet ambrosia
lips stained red with deep dark wine
swarthy locals’ smiling faces
lovers with their arms entwined.
Tastes and smells are all around us
food and drink beyond compare
warm night air drapes on our shoulders
sated, sleepy, not a care.
Street musicians serenade us
as we stroll our way back home
memories to last a lifetime
summer nights in downtown Rome.
***
Travellers:
What has been your best-loved destination?
Seagulls squeal a spring duet
Swim in pairs around ice and rock
Glide as swans in graceful tandem
Hush broken by caw and squawk.
Two by two with white forms glinting
All-consumed to multiply
Nests to feather whatever the weather
Tasks that cover sea and sky.
Sun sets, wind drops, fog rolls in
From the east without a sound
Just the squeal and cry of seagulls
Nature’s twilight songs abound.
I took these photos in April 2015. This year the sea ice left early, but we still have our mating seagulls on the rocks. I love to see them pair off with each other every spring.
~ There is a Pleasure in the Pathless Woods ~
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar:
I love not man the less,
But Nature more.
~ excerpt from Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage
by Lord Byron
Jennifer's Journal 