Tuesday, February 28, 2012


Park City Utah Feb 28, 2012
Some fancy boots in a Park City store window. While helping a friend find the perfect pair of earrings, I also spent some time rediscovering my love of windows. 
unseen hearts are carried
by more than boots and cars
love and light reflections
upon the littered shore
of our tangled hearts
 carried in our clinging
abandoning desires
for a blessing

Sunday, February 26, 2012


Entranced by the overload of dense directions,
cumbersome as wet cement.
Reluctant stray answers,
murmur and pelt the senses.
I light a match and watch the map go up in smoke.

Notes- The words came though from Brenda, last night before I went to bed.  I let the stew and simmer while I slept. At breakfast while drinking my tea the words wrote them self  out. 

 The words were-

Friday, February 24, 2012

Monday, February 20, 2012

Stirring Turquoise

Stirring Turquoise by Teri H Hoover

Stillness falls between the branches,
just before the wind finds its way.
Stirring the turquoise bell.  

Sunday, February 19, 2012


Morning  by Teri H Hoover

It was early morning in the garden... the dog and boy were still asleep.
The restless ginger fairies, had danced into the sunrise, just as it kissed the clematis.

Almost recklessly, they flitted out from under leaves and overturned seashells.
Forgetting once again their sunscreen, but not their wide brimmed hats.
Straps of ribbon, tied loosely under pointed chins.
Little rings of laughter, balanced on the tip the sleeping rose-
then skipped over to the bird bath for a dip.
The fairies followed right behind, startling the mourning dove that had dozed off in mid-splash.
Loosing his balance, a fluster of flapping and involuntary cooing, veering off -
leaving a trail of grey down,
narrowly missing the bird feeder,
haphazardly he lifted into an arching branch of the lilac.

The sun had climbed the boxwood hedge and was peeking through the long tresses of the willow.
And between the rocks, the moss seeps silent and dreaming. Unable to awaken or know the light.

The fairies took no notice and continued to delight themselves, now darting between the honey bees.
This was the mornings work, their diminutive baskets swayed from their slender arms,
filled to overflowing with the sweet song of the honey bees whistle.
The honey bees so enjoyed the little tickles from the fairies.
It was the song of the garden in morning- while the sun still seeps around corners.

Just then the sun blazed out from the willows grasp.
And boy and dog romped into the garden.

The faeries flitting into shadowy shelter- like a startled mourning dove. 
Saved from being scorched, narrowly avoiding the sores of sunburn.
They nestled into the cool,
of the purple leaved plant called Persian Shield.

If there was something bizarre in this morning the bees did not say. 

Among the shadowy ghosts of morning fairies
the smudgy faced boy and his sniffing dog,
play with abandon
in the garden.

Process Notes- Got up read the words and wrote down the last "paragraph".   Came home from church, did lots of laundry. I was avoiding the rest of this wordle... I did not want it to go down the dark path today.  But with words like ghosts and sore that was going to be tricky.

It started to snow. I thought of my garden which I worked in for several hours yesterday... filled with the first snow of the season, on February 19th! So  sat down for an hour or so with my dog and played with fairies in my garden.