Tuesday, June 26, 2012

For Me


Morning by Teri H Hoover

Outside birds flit between lilac branches
Cool air brushes in through an open window
Tickling the dogs nose

This indeed will be a summer of healing.

Note: We carry many things on our shoulders. Now is time to pause and put it all down. I have surgery at 2 later today, to repair a torn rotator cuff. It indeed will be a summer of healing. I am off.

Tuesday, June 19, 2012


Margo Roby- Wordgathering- June 19, 2012- Tuesday Tryouts- Summer Style
Healing by Teri H Hoover June 19, 2012

Through dirty open windows,
Freedom moves the stagnant air.
Moving beyond escape.
This is the season of possibility.

When the color green bandages all things broken
and the heart breaks into silent song.

Through aging screens, that squeak and shutter,
light unrestrained, streams unhindered.   
The pollen of  life settles into glass jars
collected and labeled, on dark pantry shelves.

When the sun glows warm like simmering peaches,
cooking down into a salve of forgetting. 

There in the still of evening dusk
the cigarette blends with the campfire,
while the night air erases all blame. 
Wings fold in with purpose .

About the prompt....

Sunday, June 17, 2012


Wordle#61-Sunday Whirl-06-17-2012 
Unchecked  by Teri H Hoover

Latch the chest to
spare the heart.                                                                        

Strike a pose to 
blend the currents.

Refrain from racket to
draft the temper.

Trace the string to
crack the code. 

Cracked codes- check
Traced strings- check
Drafted tempers-check
Refrained rackets- check
Blended currents- check
Poses struck-check

The spared heart...

living in the latched chest-

is not living at all.

I seem to be whirling around heart work this week. Whirling is such a good word. Have a wonderful Sunday everyone.

The words for the Sunday Whirl are: blend, latch, chest, current, draft, string,crack, spare, temper, refrain, racket, trace, strike

Friday, June 15, 2012

Refilling my Heart

Front Yard Garden, Blacksburg Va- June 15. 2012

 "It is because our hearts leak and we forget that we are loved."
Thankfully they are replenished simply by loving. 

Monday, June 11, 2012

For a Friend

For Maggie 

too soon
not yet

to another daughter-
How do I tell you ... my heart breaks for you.

Sunday, June 10, 2012

I think I know You

For my WOWH friends June 10 2012
I think I know You by Teri H Hoover

Here I am,  jumping on the train
at the very last minute. I think we have met before.
I shift my glance
Awkward and unsure- but curious.
Mirrored in the glass I see
you looking at me.
Familiarity sits between us-
A sudden shift in direction
and a simultaneous  smile.
This small offering is all we needed to begin.

Lessons from the Willow

Lessons from the Willow  by Teri H Hoover

Cut by the hands of my brother; the gift  of a willow branch wrapped in a water logged burlap bag.
Traveling down I-90 West from Buffalo to Pittsburgh, winding through West Virginia- all the way to here.
"Let it sit...", soaking in a 5 gallon plastic bucket filled with water,  "...till the thing grows roots." 

I planted the thing in a hole full of mud, on the side of the yard, close to the street.
Five years later, it was taller than the house.
Five years later, the house became too small.

Moving away, but not too far.
Another cutting set to soak, in a wrapping of burlap.
Again, waiting for the roots; a slip of a willow into the ground.
For the longest time, it hid between the boxwood bushes
and trembled. I promised my husband I would keep it from taking over the yard.
I lied.

Once it could see where it was going, it claimed the bluffs among the clouds for a playground.
Becoming herself
a vessel of benevolence and high spirits. 

Hovering over the new deck, watching as we prepared the wood for stain;
cleaning off the leaves, pounding in nail heads. As we finish the last coat
leaves fall in a flourish. We look up and see the willow shaking with laughter; her idea of a joke.  

A loose knotted conundrum of high spirited energy 
and easy going watchfulness. Faithful yet fitfull, in her flailing. 
Wild limbs tell of an oncoming storm. 

But on quiet days, gracefulness and equanimity return. She stands quiet as stone.  
And we hardly notice willow shadows that brush against our skin.We drink Corona with limes, 
while the willow drops leaves like prayers, into our evening meal.
More than twenty years has filled my friend the willow.
And I could not ask for more. She embraces this home and reaches out beyond. Swaying like a song and
waving to everyone who passes by. Not many will notice, but she does not mind

I crawl towards understanding all she has to share. I wait beneath the blessing of the willow.
As she waits for me to hear. Softly swaying in every season with bouts of intractable wildness. 
Slowly reaching toward the sun, light falls through her branches.

This weeks words from the Sunday Whirl:
 bluffs, willow, corona, brush, trembled, mud, crawl, vessels, nail, stain, shadows, stones

Notes: I deeply admire the willow... 

Additional notes: I was asked if this piece is autobiographical. It is indeed. My love of the willow began as a child. I remember moving into a new home in the suburbs of Buffalo, NY. At the age of five we moved to our new home. I can remember how unsettled I was by the bare expanse of the new subdivision. Thankfully, the neighbor behind us planted a row of twelve, quick growing willows. From the window of my second story bedroom I watched these willows cavort with the sunset... and swore I would have a willow in my yard when I grew up. And I do. A large wonderful willow blessing.

Here is a link to another piece I wrote about watching the willows from my bedroom window.Solace is a Place  

or click down for the full piece below-

Wednesday, June 06, 2012


June 6, 2012  - a Small Stone
separations by Teri H Hoover 

Chirping, on either side of the double yellow line.
Unseen birds stay connected.


Tuesday, June 05, 2012


June 5, 2012  - a Small Stone
honeysuckle by Teri H Hoover

Walking into a jog
all the way
the hill
Rewarded with a deep inhale
of what heaven will smell like.

A late afternoon walk with my dog on a cool afternoon. No one on the trail. I was prompted to jog down the hill. It was all of an 1/8 of a mile.  I have not jogged in 10 years. It felt good.

Monday, June 04, 2012

if only

if only by Teri H Hoover

by Anna Ancher

Remembering the tentative steps...
onto the floorboard canyon of her childhood.
Hollow, empty, hallways...
echo with the the weight of latent fears.

Walking with the muted colors, but finally alive.

Sunlight careens through dusty windows
finding a safe place on the wall.
No longer shrinking backwards,
from what she cannot see.

The echoes fade away.

This poem may have been influenced by Purple Pen in Portland.
I try to never read others work on a prompt because I am easily influenced- especially with haunting imagery. With that said my write is autobiographical . I continue to walk towards light.

Sunday, June 03, 2012

getting their fill

Wordle#59-Sunday Whirl-06-03-2012 
getting their fill  by Teri H Hoover

Words like vagabonds waiting for a hand-out  
crouch  at the bottom of the page.
Some are shifting  from foot to foot.
Others like wilting wallflowers, nearly crumple at a glance.

Thankful for the bright ones 
that burst forward with a crash.
Bold hearts set a place for all the rest.
A shred of dignity draws forth a beat,
soon chatter fills the silence. 

Letters chisel into words and life begins to glow.
Nothing can stop them 

a  full sentence dangles on the edge
of incoherence
tenuous dribbling lines 

Split and crumple, 
returning to a crouch.

Pierce this poem or stand by a bruised yet beating heart-
we raise them up when we step down.

 This weeks wordles words are : split, bruise, crumpledraw, burst, pierce, crash, chisel, crouch, glow, edge, beat

Brenda- Thank you for the beginning, here's to beating out something edgy that glows!