Welcome to where I am, where my kitchen's always messy, a pot's (or a poet) always about to boil over, a dog is always begging to be fed. Drafts of poems on the counter. Windows filled with leaves. Wind. Clouds moving over the mountains. If you like poetry, books, and music--especially dog howls when a siren unwinds down the hill-- you'll like it here.


MY NEW AUTHOR'S SITE, KATHRYNSTRIPLINGBYER.COM, THAT I MYSELF SET UP THROUGH WEEBLY.COM, IS NOW UP. I HAD FUN CREATING THIS SITE AND WOULD RECOMMEND WEEBLY.COM TO ANYONE INTERESTED IN SETTING UP A WEBSITE. I INVITE YOU TO VISIT MY NEW SITE TO KEEP UP WITH EVENTS RELATED TO MY NEW BOOK.


MY NC POET LAUREATE BLOG, MY LAUREATE'S LASSO, WILL REMAIN UP AS AN ARCHIVE OF NC POETS, GRADES K-INFINITY! I INVITE YOU TO VISIT WHEN YOU FEEL THE NEED TO READ SOME GOOD POEMS.

VISIT MY NEW BLOG, MOUNTAIN WOMAN, WHERE YOU WILL FIND UPDATES ON WHAT'S HAPPENING IN MY KITCHEN, IN THE ENVIRONMENT, IN MY IMAGINATION, IN MY GARDEN, AND AMONG MY MOUNTAIN WOMEN FRIENDS.




Friday, March 20, 2009

The SOUND OF GREEN



(Green as seen through a scrim of still-leafless Sweet Shrub)

In response to my appeal for poems that sound like "green," (on my Laureate's Lasso blogI received only one! Where are you, spring-crazed poets? You are supposed to be out smelling the first green, inhaling the sunshine, listening to the tree frogs and letting your imagination fill up to the brim! Send me some poems!

Thank you, Diane. This is a lovely poem, and as I told you in my comments, I particularly like "The days stretch, the nights shrink." I wish I knew more about you. Your students are fortunate to have you as their teacher.

Diane, Teacher said...

As I stood on my porch at sunset today, I could hear the "sound of green".

Tree frogs sing
Crickets cheep
Pink fingers of sunshine stream along the horizon
The days stretch, the nights shrink
Nature’s music reveals
Spring is here!

4 comments:

Evening Light Writer said...

If I would have seen your call for poems I would have surely sent in my ode to green. Going through my work I found a poem I wrote last year on the first day of spring.

Ode to March

Oh you great, wet thing!
Vast as a mountain
Lithe and lean, carried by the wind.
How will you, with all your promises
Fulfill them?

Push out the green of bulbs, the buds, the birds!

For today, the very first
You’ve covered me in fog.
Made me a soggy thing of little worth

Mindy Evans

Kathryn Stripling Byer said...

Mindy, I have never, ever read a spring poem that begins --or ends--like this one. And I love "push out the green of blubs, the buds, the birds." What an image of birthing! Thank you.

doris diosa said...

Happy Spring Equinox, Mindy & Kay & All (one day late but still) -

i also missed the call for green poems but i have a dogwood rant-poem in progress that you can have for cheap (yukyuk). Meanwhile, i am obsessed with green *jewelry* - jade rings in simple silver settings, and varieted green mother of pearl necklaces and another soft green stone whose name i don't know . . .
Hugs.

Kathryn Stripling Byer said...

diosa, cabbage sistah, always fab to see you here, but even better in person! Do send the dogwood rant. Green mother of pearl? Surely there's a poem in that? Jade, I love that word. Just love green/verde generally.
Why not make up a name for that soft green stone?
Something fitting, something only you pull out of your green imagination!