Hello blog friends, 

Today I have the privilege of introducing author Harmony Kent and her most recent publication, Sorrowful Soul. I've read many of Harmony's award-winning books. She writes through her heart, and in so doing, she reaches ours. 

Harmony's background is unique. She was a Zen Buddhist monk for thirteen years. That experience provides the foundation upon which she faces life's challenges, including a horrific life-changing injury. 

​I never was a monk, though I am familiar with that way of life. For five years I frequented Zen Buddhist temples, joining other contemplatives longing for a deeper experience of the Divine. I mention this because Zen Buddhism isn't a religion; it is a philosophy, a way of life. At the close of my meditations, I went home. The monks remained and lived in that quiet setting full-time. I can only imagine the culture shock Harmony must have experienced when she left the monastery. 

I have deep respect for the monks I knew. Their kindness guides me still. When I met Harmony through her blog and her books, I found a sister, a friend, and a mentor. She is a teacher without a title, and a writer with a powerful voice. She deserves the spotlight and more. 

Please join me in welcoming Harmony Kent. ❤️

 ​Hi, Gwen.
 
Thanks so much for hosting me today.
 
It’s always wonderful to visit with you.
 
Here’s a little bit I’d love to share about my latest book of poetry, Sorrowful Soul.  Full of freestyle poems, which provide company and compassion through the devastating journey of grief and loss and onward, this heartfelt collection shows us we do not travel this lonely road alone.
 
The cover for Sorrowful Soul depicts a Calla Lilly, which comes in many colours, holds much symbolism, and finds itself called upon for both weddings and funerals and many occasions in between. This beautiful Lilly is well known for crying—where water droplets form on the petals—and this phenomenon inspired my design for the front cover.
 
The wonderful, versatile Calla Lilly has truly caught my imagination. Do you have a particular flower that speaks to you? If so, chat with me in the comments.

ABOUT THE BOOK:
 
If we’re lucky, we meet twilight at the front door and old age creeps in on the night breeze.
 
Even if we make it to our twilight years, the more we age, the more loss we must endure as part of the cycle of life. Many of these poems lament death, but they also relate to broken relationships, severed friendships, and the loss of youth. This book of grief poetry is as much about saying goodbye and working through loss as it is about death and love split asunder.
 
This heartfelt collection provides company and compassion through the devastating journey of loss and shows us we do not travel this lonely road alone. Within these pages we share shock, numbness and denial, catapult into anger, bargaining, depression, loneliness, and guilt, and—eventually—make the seismic shift into testing the possibility of a new normal and finding acceptance.
 
 
Universal Sales Link:  https://mybook.to/SorrowfulSoul
​
​Book Trailer: 

Hello blog friends. If you celebrated Thanksgiving this past week, I hope you enjoyed family, friends, and plenty of good food.

My celebration was twofold and very different from prior Thanksgivings.

​First, my adventurous sons returned safely from a two-week trek to Patagonia, Argentina. Their 24-hr flights to and from were challenging but their journey more than made up for that inconvenience. They had an amazing time. And ... this mom is very thankful they are home.

​Second, the washing machine broke. The water seeped under the flooring into the closet and our bedroom. We initially could not understand why the carpet was so wet. Spilled water? Then we feared the worst. Burst pipes? After several hours of worry and search, a friend came to our aid and identified the culprit. 

I was immensely grateful that all we needed was a new washing machine. The thought of digging for a broken pipe was horrifying, but buying a new appliance, well that could be fun--and was. Friends pitched in by lending us their fans, and now we have dry carpets and baseboards AND a new washing machine.  

Since this is the final Tuesday of the month, Colleen Chesebro asks that we share our day via a poem. I've done so through a tanka. I hope you enjoy it. We all have so much to be grateful for, even with our unexpected hurdles. 😊

Have a wonderful week! 

Hello blog friends, it's #TankaTuesday, and author Colleen Chesebro has a new Ekphrastic (photo) prompt. She asks that participants choose a syllabic form and create a poem about the image. 

My poem is a tanka, a simple 5-line form (5-7-5-7-7), and it is my response to the photo of the Ukrainian dolls below. 

Have a wonderful week, dear friends.
In the United States, we prepare to celebrate Thanksgiving.
David's photo above is all the more poignant because
the children in Ukraine are not able to join us for the table feast.

For peace, I long. For peace, I work. For peace, I pray.
May we all, someday soon, celebrate as a family. 
❤️ 

Today is Veterans Day in the United States, and I'd like to share a personal story. 

In my pre-retirement years, I worked at a college in southern California near the Marine Corps Base Camp Pendleton. Many returning servicemen enrolled in classes. They went from the warzone of Afghanistan to a privileged setting of lattes and frisbees. The culture shock was profound.

These young men, and a few women, had no place to gather, and they clearly needed each other. I turned my office suite into a Veterans Center and took a small office. Soon the place was bustling.

What I didn't expect was how transformative this experience would be for me.

Firsthand I saw the impact of war. Physical, mental, and emotional. I heard and saw things that broke my heart, and slowly these brave young people became family. I've many stories, but there is one I'd like to share with you today.

An Army Ranger veteran came to me. He looked like a Hollywood movie star, but below his exterior, he carried experiences few could imagine. He explained that he had been promised an education, but at the college he was considered a non-resident. This meant his classes would cost a fortune. He said, "I don't know what to do. This is my only home. I have no other. Why must I pay out-of-state tuition when non-citizens are considered residents?"

He was not being political. He simply stated facts. I met with college officials and did what I could, but ultimately, this young man returned to Special Forces. He explained, "It's something I do well, and I can't make it here. I don't have the funds I need to take classes."

This encounter disturbed me greatly. No matter which country we call home, if we expect our young people to defend our country, we have an absolute responsibility to help them transition back into civilian life at the end of their tour. 

I wrote to many California elected officials and met with a couple of them. Before I retired, I believe the law was changed, and veterans in California are now given residency. I hope I am not mistaken. 

The young men below are a few of the veterans who made my office their campus home. 

Veterans Day for me is an emotional experience. It is not a nationalistic day, not a day to say my country is better than yours. No. It is a day to honor those who innocently decided to give their lives to serve their country's ideals. 

When asked how many veterans are homeless in the U.S.A., PolicyAdvice.net states, "A precise count is almost impossible to make, yet, according to estimates, over 40,000 veterans are homeless on any given night..." 

​​In the United States, we give hotel suites to illegal immigrants. We offer them food. Why aren't we demonstrating that same respect to our veterans? 

Today I honor all those who wore the uniform. And I ask veterans to forgive us if we've walked past you on the street and offered not a coin. Forgive us if you are unemployed and need help. Forgive us if we've forgotten our obligation.  

Hello blog friends. As I write, it's election day in the U.S.A. Most folks are on edge, wondering how the votes will swing, and if there will be a huge backlash. I've never seen our country this divided or this contentious. For most of us, it's a heartbreaking era.

Hoping for the best, whatever that might mean, I have a poem to share. This week author Colleen Chesebro asks writers to compose a Kouta poem. Never heard of it? I certainly hadn't, but here's a bit of history.

Kouta is an ancient Japanese form, used by the geishas during the 14th through the 16th century. It remains popular in Japan today and typically follows a 5-7-5-7 or a 7-7-7-5 syllabic structure. The focus is usually on everyday circumstances.  

My poem is a bit escapist. I'm hiding from the news and anyone wanting to talk about current events. I've chosen to be a bit dreamy in this poem, following the second syllabic structure mentioned above. 

I hope you enjoy it. Simple. Sweet. My answer to chaos...

Have a lovely week! ❤️

Hello blog friends,

I am elated to host best-selling author Diana Wallace Peach today. Her newly released fantasy, The Necromancer's Daughter, has garnered over 35 5-star reviews, and that includes my own.

She is a prolific and disciplined writer, with 20 books and 5 anthologies, and a multitude of breathtaking poems. She lives in Oregon's rainforest in a log cabin. Is it any wonder that she writes fantasy? 

Please join me in welcoming Diana with a big ​ CONGRATULATIONS!

​Thanks, Gwen, for having me over to your beautiful blog.

You write lovely poetry, so I decided to write a poem for the post today.  In the past, I’ve tried to pen a poem that summarizes the theme of a book or encapsulates the core of its plot or the message I wish to convey or the question a story poses.

This poem is about the questions underlying my characters’ choices and the answer they discover at the end.

I hope you enjoy it. Thanks again for welcoming me to your blog and introducing me to your visitors. Happy Reading!

Blurb:
A healer and dabbler in the dark arts of life and death, Barus is as gnarled as an ancient tree. Forgotten in the chaos of the dying queen’s chamber, he spirits away her stillborn infant, and in a hovel at the meadow’s edge, he breathes life into the wisp of a child. He names her Aster for the lea’s white flowers. Raised as his daughter, she learns to heal death.

Then the day arrives when the widowed king, his own life nearing its end, defies the Red Order’s warning. He summons the necromancer’s daughter, his only heir, and for his boldness, he falls to an assassin’s blade.

While Barus hides from the Order’s soldiers, Aster leads their masters beyond the wall into the Forest of Silvern Cats, a land of dragons and barbarian tribes. She seeks her mother’s people, the powerful rulers of Blackrock, uncertain whether she will find sanctuary or face a gallows’ noose.

Unprepared for a world rife with danger, a world divided by those who practice magic and those who hunt them, she must choose whether to trust the one man offering her aid, the one man most likely to betray her—her enemy’s son.

A healer with the talent to unravel death, a child reborn, a father lusting for vengeance, and a son torn between justice, faith, and love. Caught in a chase spanning kingdoms, each must decide the nature of good and evil, the lengths they will go to survive, and what they are willing to lose.
​

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Hello blog friends!

Today author Colleen Chesebro invites us to create a syllabic poem with a specific color in mind. Her #TastetheRainbow challenge prompted me to focus on yellow. 

In northern Arizona, at elevations exceeding 5,000 feet, temperatures have dropped, and leaves are falling. My vegetable garden is now mulched and bare of its bounty. I stripped tomato and zucchini roots, took down the bean vines, and tilled the ground. Somewhere in that mix, I decided to add an additional raised bed. That sounds easy, doesn't it?

The picture below is my new raised bed. To create it, I took away 2 wheelbarrows of ​rock, pieced together metal siding, and then added enriched soil and mulch. Sore? Mightily. But I'm ever so proud to see the result. 😊

My Tanka - 

Have you begun preparing for Spring? I'd love to know. 💛