Author: isobel cunningham
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This is a hard form so. . . just so you know, it has to be in five stressed syllables to a line (iambic pentameter) . It has to have 14 lines, the last 2 being a couplet that sums things up and the other lines have to be three four-line sections . The…
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Cars and houses and even an asphalt street rolling on up that hill wonders, real wonders for human beings a whole world to fill. Fashioning the world, drawn out, drawn, spun out to some fantastic peak Of art, of technology, of skill of stubborn persistence, of flawless technique Trial and error, over and over again…
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The red-headed boy and his mother Run in the morning of rain Run as all red-headed boys before him Running in Ireland, Scotland, in Norway Running away from, running toward the steady cool rain. A thatch of thick straight red hair to run off the steady cool rain. The rain and the…
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Today day the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts opens the Faberge Exhibit. I will be guiding today and for the next two months. I have already done the “walk through” that guides are permitted before the show officially opens. It is really lovely and all my fears if how such tiny objects could…
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Yoga is is not for wimps. I have been congratulating myself on being comfortable in my Pilates class. I go to a class in a nice yuppie neighbourhood. Lots of young women, some of them dancers attend. And I keep up. . . . mostly. When I don’t I blame it on my artificial…
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Somehow how this reminds me of The Godfather. Wasn’t there a parade like this at one point? In my little neighbourhood there are several churches. One huge monument has been turned into a theatre. French Canadians no longer to church. It seems a very odd idea that enormous churches like Our Lady of…
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It it had been a very long time since I had seen a snail in its shell slowly edging his ( her?) way along. I remember seeing these guys when I was a child. Odd that we tolerated snails and even admired their horns poking out of the shell, but poor slugs were despised…
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For poets sunsets are a tricky thing Like roses, kittens or a diamond ring. They’re a miracle that makes us gasp But we hold back for to say it is beyond the grasp of ordinary poets. “What a sight!” “Oh, look how lovely!” Pink and gold, come sip your tea. You poet, you! What…
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Beauty is lurking in a city lane She hears the hum of traffic and the bird’s refrain. She springs up green and not to be denied Sheltered by the old elm she stands beside. Beauty is blooming here in shade and sun Scented and fragrant when the day is done. She hears…
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The heat and heavy air blanket the whole city, drawing moisture from the great river and from the full young foliage that crowns the trees. The weather-man says there is a storm warning but we are so blase after our terrible winter that we toss our heads and sneer a little. The weather…
