Mj Pettengill

In Flanders fields, the poppies blow...

In the wild soft summer darkness...

...born of another time...

The smell of wet wild earth Is everywhere.

The original blog was replaced with a simple poem. Here's why...

In Flanders fields, the poppies blow...

Forget-me-not because we grow together...

A Light exists in Spring

It’s been so long since you went away, my butterscotch curls are silver and gray.

It was a dream-filled night. And I had lost my way.

Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high... Rabindranath Tagore


"As I Began to Love Myself" —Poem by Kim and Alison McMillen
 (Falsely attributed to Charlie Chaplin)

Poor wretched Outcast! I will weep for thee, And sorrow for forlorn humanity.

Up the airy mountain, Down the rushy glen, We daren’t go a-hunting For fear of little men...

By W.H. Auden For Cyril Connolly The piers are pummelled by the waves; In a lonely field the rain Lashes an abandoned train; Outlaws...

Your face is neither infinite nor ephemeral. You can never see your own face, only a reflection, not the face itself. So you sigh in...