Janet Fogg's Blog, page 32
April 8, 2020
little birds
Photo by Richard Fogg
may my heart always be open to little
birds who are the secrets of living
whatever they sing is better than to know
and if men should not hear them men are old
~ E. E. Cummings.
April 7, 2020
Lending a hand
[image error]Hoping to lend a hand by entertaining you and your children, so I’ve made the Kindle version of Trail Winds FREE for five days. On Amazon, click on the print below the Kindle Unlimited box, where it says “$0.00 to buy”.
From Splitwing, the first Red-winged blackbird, to HeCoYa, a massive gray coyote, in Trail Winds you’ll find fanciful tales of how five natural phenomena came to be.
Be safe!
April 5, 2020
April 1, 2020
If you listen closely
Photo by Richard Fogg
Now if you listen closely
I’ll tell you what I know
Storm clouds are gathering
The wind is gonna blow
The race of man is suffering
And I can hear the moan,
‘Cause nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.
Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.
~ Maya Angelou
March 29, 2020
Oh, the company we keep!
Beyond flattered that Fogg in the Cockpit is No. 4 today, and keeping company with Leonardo da Vinci and Elon Musk!
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March 25, 2020
With scented dew still wet
A single flow’r he sent me, since we met.
All tenderly his messenger he chose;
Deep-hearted, pure, with scented dew still wet—
One perfect rose.
~ Dorothy Parker
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Photo by Richard Fogg
March 18, 2020
A whisper of warmth
Photo by Richard Fogg
The geese are finding their voices.
Broken cackles
on dark mornings.
A restlessness for the North.
And hidden shoots
unfurl in freedom.
Called into being
by a whisper of warmth.
The long night closes,
as a faint light
streaks the dawn.
And my broken voice
sings once more.
~ Lyn McCrave
March 11, 2020
Leaving in the water
Photo by Richard Fogg
Mallards
leaving in the water
rippled sky
~ Penny Harter
March 5, 2020
Drowsing forth a prosy song
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Photos by Richard Fogg
Little chemic-artisan,
Doing work no other can,
Deep in dewy nectaries,
Petal-walled refectories–
Apple-blossom, columbine,
Rose and lily, all are thine,
Yet, though oft thy weight they bear,
Dost thou know how they are fair?
What’s a lily? What’s a rose?
Down the golden lane he goes,
Drowsing forth a prosy song,
“Honey! Honey!” all day long.
~ Arthur Guiterman
March 3, 2020
Wild Geese
Photo by Richard Fogg
High through the drenched and hollow night their wings
Beat northward hard on winter’s trail. The sound
Of their confused and solemn voices, borne
Athwart the dark to their long arctic morn,
Comes with a sanction and an awe profound,
A boding of unknown, foreshadowed things.
~ Charles G. D. Roberts.
