September’s Song

I wrote the following in September of 1994. It was a time of great transition for me.

I wanted to express my readiness for the next chapter, and my anticipation of what good things might come my way. When I wrote it, I had no way of knowing I would be meeting my future (and now present) husband later in that same month.

To me, these heartfelt words of my younger self are still fresh and very much alive. They have no expiry date.

September’s Song

The September sun falls warm upon my face
as I blink back a lonely tear.

But to be alone isn’t so bad.
A decade of fragile dreams, dashed,
had prepared me for this season of solitude.

Hadn’t you known it was inevitable,
poor battered heart?

The gulf I see ahead is blue, unknown,
and strangely comforting.
I knew I would face it someday.

As surely as I had faced the impossible gulf
of a love that could no longer support us,
like a ropework bridge – frayed, rotted,
stretching into a sadder tomorrow.

No, it couldn’t be trusted to help us across.
I finally accepted its condition and turned away.

The summer of change has passed,
and an autumn of new beginnings beckons.
A crisp welcome breeze blows
the last stray doubts from my mind.

I watch a dry russet leaf skitter and dance
to a uniquely different song, of a September that holds
the inviting promise of a life not ending,
but reborn.

Blogger Bouquet #40

blogger bouquet springAndy1076 over at The Wandering Poet is a prolific blogger, poet, and photographer, and one of my first mutual follows on WordPress ever since 2011. I’ve enjoyed many of his posts as a single dad living in Vancouver. I have no idea why I haven’t thrown him a bouquet sooner. My sincerest apologies, Andy!

Andy speaks of the beauty of nature and finding love – two of my favourite topics – and he captures both exceptionally well in his pictures and in his writing.

From his About page:

Who am I? I am a wandering soul who has finally found his answer after so long. I dedicate all my poetry to the one I deeply love, Glaiza. She has given me more joy and warmth than I have ever known. I hope you will share our journey together.🙂

I chose to share his About page with its short video, The origin of my blog, because it perfectly illustrates what a sweet guy Andy is. Yes, he found his true love through WordPress! How cool is that? Give it a watch, and you just might decide to hit the follow button as well.

A Little About Me

Comments are closed here but you can leave one on the blogger’s page.

Have an inspiring weekend, everyone! ❤


august 016

Collections of moments
and memories made
pearls on a necklace
a precious array

Connection of spirit
cups of tea we have shared
long walks, or in back yards
laughs and hugs show we care

We may mirror each other
and delight in the same
though embracing each difference
is the name of the game

To those I’ve spent time with
both near and afar
whether seldom, or often
you know who you are

Each connection, each bond
has helped me to grow
the friendship I treasure
means more than you know

Collections of memories
a priceless array
the pearls on my necklace
I wear every day

Hey, Little Girl

Here is a poem I wrote to my little granddaughter, who is so very near and dear to my heart, along with a selection of my favourite photos of her over the years.



Hey little girl, what tender dreams do you dream?
You are this world’s destiny yet unseen
We look to you to see a new truth revealed
While you play and you laugh and invent new games
And your tears make our hearts melt and break
But the lessons you are learning
They will help you move on
They’ll help you become strong
For the passions that you set your sights upon



Hey little girl, what brave new songs will you sing
When to your childhood you can no longer cling?
But please remember, to your family
You are a gift and a blessing that burst into our lives
And your smile makes our hearts fill with pride
As you dance through the years ahead
Through our lives and beyond
We’ll always cheer you on
Down that path where you can’t take us along

Hey little girl, what tender dreams do you dream?


“Life Means All That It Ever Meant”

 The past few years have taken our mother on a difficult journey, and our family right along with her.
Mercifully, she finally succumbed to her illness last week, and

we were able to say our goodbyes as she entered into her eternal rest.

I found this poem that speaks of my sweet mother’s lifelong attitude of pragmatism and hope. Somehow it gives me strength and reassurance, reminding me how lucky I was to have known and loved this woman who was my mother.

 All Is Well
Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away to the next room
I am I and you are you
Whatever we were to each other,
That we are still.
Call me by my old familiar name,
Speak to me in the easy way
which you always used.
Put no difference in your tone,

Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.

 Laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was,

Let it be spoken without effect, without the trace of a shadow on it.

 Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was,
There is absolute, unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind
because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you,
for an interval.
Somewhere very near.
Just around the corner.

All is well.

 Henry Scott Holland

For My Mother

Last month was my mother’s birthday.  She turned 75.

For the first time in her seventy-five years, our dear mother wasn’t able to eat any birthday cake.  She is bedridden, in and out of consciousness on morphine, and dying.  There is every reason to expect – and actually, dare I say, hope – that this is the year of her last birthday, and that her painful battle with Alzheimer’s disease will finally be over.

Mom has taken a turn this past week, a turn that plants her squarely in the final stage of this heartbreaking disease. She can no longer swallow even liquid food, so we know the end is near.

I can hardly think of anything or anyone else right now. I dread what lies ahead, even though I said above that I hope this, her last trial, will soon be at its end.

Here is a poem I wrote over twenty five years ago, when my mom and I were much younger women. I made some changes, updating it to reflect the present, but the essential message remains the same. I love you, Mom!


When I needed someone to hug
You were there
Your arms outstretched and waiting, your gentle, warm embrace
Absorbing all my love.

When I felt the pain of problems
You were close by
Your soft, smooth cheek was soothing, your warm familiar bosom
Blotting out the fears.

When we begged a little comfort
From each other, over the years
With a love so unconditional, as one woman to another,
We shared our tears.

And now,
When you have reached completion
Of this, your final trial,
I will treasure precious moments, tender memories, my sweet haven
Because, Mom,

When I needed someone to love,
You were there.

Take My Advice


Take my advice. I know;
I’ve seen it all before.
Don’t take that chance on love:
You don’t need it.
You don’t need the hurt, the betrayal,
The aching disappointment.
Turn away from it all.
Don’t second-guess.

Stop short on your desire
To return that charming wink–
Don’t think, not for a moment
Maybe this one could be true.
Turn up your haughty nose
At dependence on another.
Laugh with scorn at silly flirting
And the thought of ever playing
Those degrading games again.


Wrap yourself in sullen comforts,
Insulate your timid soul.
Extricate your battered heart
From such disturbing folly.
Only then will you be certain
Your pride remains intact,
And in time
You will forget
How it ever felt

To love.

– taken from Pages from the Past by Jennifer Kelland Perry


the sea breeze softly whispers
hot sun on my skin
the drone of bees, the sway of grass
the cloudless day begins

a bead of sweat runs down
I sigh with upturned face
consummate season’s reverie
in nature’s warm embrace

wild magenta roses
bright petals downy soft
tiny nodding buttercups
and butterflies aloft

boat with sail unfurled
glides out from little cove
horizon, mediterranean blue
the sea a treasure trove

the quietude is broken
a fisher homeward bound
his vessel leaves a foamy wake
then seabirds circle ’round

a lone tern drops and dives
the laughing gulls ignore
they soar o’er brimming neap tide
where kelp adorns the shore

beside crystalline water
wrapped in summer’s heat
reflections blur and coalesce
my past and present meet

the world is as it’s ought
vague worries fall away
caught in the brief eternity
of a summer day


she remains

grey winds freeze her heart
an ever-withering blight
cold memories linger
of  her recreant knight

brave dreams she had reached for
often misunderstood
blinding her intention
eclipsing any good

space between, polluted
by unrecoverable words
pregnant silence the only
sound you ever heard

you hurried its demise
you cannonballed through that
exhausted, so exhausted
until it all fell flat

no words for you now
from the lips you once kissed
love undone forever
by your traitorous fist

surviving the deluge
of hot tears that hurt
she keeps wearing the scars
like a comfortable shirt

when looking back on it
her battered soul aches
the curse of good memory
is all that it takes

those sepia snapshots
that fade in bright sun
no longer vivid
by a promise undone

you couldn’t erase her
though she’s twisted and bent
like a tuckamore tree
in the wind’s harsh lament

she is living, enduring,
on the edge she remains
to quash her forever
will take more than love’s stain


this morning…

eyes open wide at sunrise,

i’m pondering a metaphor

for love

to paint a poem of words

of the two of us in couplet

yet apart

today between the lines

you will teach chess to

the school children

today among minutiae

i will savour our


let this stanza of our lives

speak to beauty in its rhythm

and its rhyme

let passion write the verse

twin souls in gentle tandem

through the hours

tonight, reverie abandoned

i’ll bathe in quiet


tonight, your page bookmarked

you’ll read me as i want

to be

you whisper my name jennifer

i think i’ve found the metaphor

in you