Writer
“In the stillness of our West Cork garden in February, I could hear nothing; and the sound was deafening. I pushed up against it, leaning into its vastness, and listened harder.”
Would that she were a woodworker/ how gently she would blow/ the cherry dust away/ and lift aside the curls/ caught fallen from her shave
“I had been a fully licensed driver in the United States for sixteen years when I took the Irish driving test and failed. As I recall, and I think my driving tester would agree, it was because of the sheep.
Batter Up! Organic Carrot Salad, Tempura Shrimp & Soy Glaze
“a flour like gauze, or a batter so delicate that it resembles a revealing dress”
“Where a man feels at home, outside of where he’s born, is where he’s meant to go”
– Ernest Hemingway
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I nestled the baby between us. When he settled into feeding, I closed my eyes. Then I heard footsteps in the hall behind me, not more than ten feet away. Suddenly I was wide-awake.
“You call yourself a mother, the voice sneered. He’ll be dead before you find him and it will be All. Your. Fault.”
The joyous, drunken raucousness of the Irish holiday season was upon us and, even with the storm clouds and the early evening spreading out against the sky, our village seemed festive rather than pensive.
Lovely Lilly, who rolls her toes in cookie dough to dream delicious dreams, is just one of the captivating characters romping through PUDDLES of POEMS: A Read Aloud or Alone Then Write Your Own Poetry Book.
Just try to keep your kids from writing poetry after reading this book; they’ll be wriggling with giggles to get started!
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“Savannah slid down the back of the wave and was smoothly lifted up and carried on by another over the threshold and out into the night.”
“It’s 5:30 when our boat pulls out into the Gulf of Mexico. It’s a small working ferry that transports supplies from the mainland to Sunset Key so the seats are hard and the engine loud.”
