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We have had the most marvellous week having hired Hellfire Jack’s at Trengove Farm for the family to stay so we could celebrate my 80th birthday all together. There have been treats and delights every day and one of those was the set of four beautiful Christmas Jigsaw crackers I bought from Wentworth Puzzles, one for each family. These are tiny wooden jigsaws that each fit in a cracker and which are really quite hard to complete. The competition to finish first was fierce!
    Today we have started on of the three jigsaws we were given for Christmas. I have shared poems from Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer from whom I get a poem every day in my inbox. She gave me permission some time ago to share whenever as long as you all know who the poet is. I love her work and would share even more but it seems greedy.
Thank you for all the comments while we have been ill. We are bettering but not yet better. I will reply to all comments in the next day or two. To enjoy the family visit we slept most of the day and joined ithem for the evening meal and fun every evening. |
Tag Archives: Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
Jigsaws, Another Jigsaw and A Poem
Yellow, A Contrast and A Poem
Our Rhododendron, new last year, is flowering well this year.
We are delighted with the colour of the irises in contrast with the Crinodendron flowers. Last year the irises didnt flower at all and Mr S wanted to take them all out. However, after their rest, they have come back in force!
Each day I get a poem in my inbox from Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer. thanks to unexpectedincommonhours.
who told me about the opportunity. I love the poems and this one really touched me and took me back to 2004 and the hospice where my lovely Dad spent his last 17 days and I spent every day with him.
Last Days
In the end, my father couldn’t
raise his arm to feed himself.
Couldn’t sit. Could barely ope
his eyes. But damn, could he love.
He still could curl his thick
fingers around my hand.
Could still say my name.
And though I had never known
a moment when I was not sure
this man loved me, in those last days
I knew it more. Somehow, barely
able to speak, he drenched me
in his devotion. In those last days,
all was reduced to love. Or was it
all was expanded to love? Either
way. Somehow I hadn’t known
how love can take over a body.
A life. The purity of it. The gift.—Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
New Moon, Soup and Hope
Last night my lovely Mr S spotted the tiniest sliver of the new moon, above it Venus and below a richly red sunset sky and I caught the photo with the better of my two cameras.
Friends came for soupy lunch today before we went together to see the live streaming of Macbeth by the Donmar Warehouse. It was absolutely brilliant! Catch it if you can.
Leek and Potato Soup with some of the last leeks from our allotment.
Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer gave me permission some time ago to post her lovely poems as long as I credit her properly. This one seems so particularly apt after the last few days.
Hope by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer University of Arizona Poetry Center. Thank you for this one.
My Dad, Angels and A Poem
Yesterday marked the 20th anniversary of my Dad’s dying after 17 days in a most wonderful hospice. I thought about him yesterday, of course, and today feel his not being here more than usual. There’ve been so many times over the years when I’ve wanted to tell him something and a split second later, remember that I can’t.
This poem by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer just fits for today.
For the Heartbroken
December 8, 2024 by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
I don’t know if there are angels,
but if there are, do they weep for us?
With all the beauty they know could be,
do they weep for all the pain we sow,
weep each time we hurt the world?
I don’t know if there are angels,
but sometimes when my own tears come,
I imagine the angels gather me
in their great and tireless arms,
and their tears mix with mine as they whisper,
That’s right, dear, feel everything.
We feel it all, too. That is why we sing.
Here’s one of my glass angels, for Dad.
Two Treasures and A Poem
Walking back from town after coffee with a dear friend, I came up Church Lane and spotted a couple of treasures among the gorgeous autumn leaves.
Pink hydrangea
Little feather
I have posted a poem by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer before and at that time, one of my readers told me that the poet publishes a poem a day and that people can subscribe to get these in their inbox every day. So I did and this is today’s poem which really touched a chord in me. I have been given permission to share it with you.
It’s the Forgettable Moments I Miss
I want to be in the garden
with you again,
hands in the dirt,
maybe listening
to cottonwood leaves
spreading rumors
of fall, but maybe
not even listening.
I want a moment
so mundane, just
pulling bindweed,
nodding and humming absently
as you talk about race cars,
a moment so unmemorable
I forget how damn precious
every single moment is;
I want a moment I take
for granted, want to
be bored or even fussy
standing beside you,
the beets too small
to harvest, your voice
rambling on about pole positions
and pit stop strategies,
and me utterly clueless
I would ever look back
and long to hear you
wax on about balancing fuel loads,
worn tires, soft compounds,
anything, anything at all.—Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
You, too, can get her poems in your inbox and follow her blog. She blogs here on WordPress at A Hundred Falling Veils
A Poem and A Picture
At the end of September I posted a poem by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer that pleased me very much and one of my blogging friends, in her comments, told me that you can subscribe and get a poem every day in your inbox. Thank you unexpectedincommonhours. I did that and today came this most apt poem. As regular readers know the situation is one I have been in very recently.
On the Night Before Your Surgery
While one hand
brushes my teeth,
the other reaches
to your room far away
to cradle your heart
as you sleep.
I emailed the poet and she very kindly said I could post this special poem for you too. It really touched me.
Taken October 9th 2020
If any of my readers are in Florida, I hope you have gone somewhere safe. My heart goes out to you all.
A Charm, A Pair and A Poem
At one point there were a dozen Goldfinches at the feeders this morning – now that’s a Charm of Goldfinches!
I could only get 8 or 9 in the photo.
We have a delightful kinetic sculpture of a pair of swallows, a little drippy but otherwise unaffected by the hoolies today. 
This poem came my way today and I thought you, Dear Reader, might like it too.
