{Day 19} 31 Days of Writing Challenge

Well, I have truthfully written every day so far! But today, I wanted to share a piece that I wrote last year….before I had roses! 

Hope you enjoy!

I’ve never grown roses. Have you? I have contemplated their scent: overwhelmingly intoxicating and romantic. I have admired their petals: perfectly formed and symmetrical. I have cursed their thorns, evasive and then fierce. But I have never purposely grown roses. The wild tangle of beach roses criss-crossing over the stone slope doesn’t count. Does it? It was just there one spring. Branch after branch of sweet smelling goodness. The kind of scent that evokes childhood memories of picking beach plums and making jam, of glass preserve jars over-filled with blossoms and used as the centerpiece for a summer supper by the sea.

I have never grown roses, but I have grown zinnias in every hue, feather-edged and bright as a brand new box of Crayolas. I have grown phlox that seems to spread overnight, that spills its cheerful tie-dyed blossoms over the tumbling white picket fence. I have grown knee-high coleus, whose soft velvety leaves and deep-veined colors remind me of the overgrown raspberry patch in the woods.

I have grown tomatoes, plump and sandwich ready. I have grown green beans by the bushel, my kids, (and dog), crunching their garden fresh goodness.

I planned on growing roses. I watched the shadows under the Maple. I plotted and considered.  I flipped glossy pages and folded the corners back neatly as I made my selections. But then spring came to the thicket. Branches covered with blossoms gave way to a crop of juicy berries. The catbird nested here, calling her pleasure to me as I headed to the garden. Robins built their nests up above, tending their sky blue eggs so tenderly, anticipating the safety of my overgrown imaginary rose garden.

I revel in this special use for my almost rose garden. I pause there daily on my walk to the vegetable garden. I am not sad…rather, joyful. This thicket has become a place of new life, of solace, of peacefulness in what can often be a haphazard balance of motherhood and career. It is welcoming. It does not judge. Instead, it is revitalizing, embracing, calming.

So even though I don’t grow roses…perhaps never will, I still take time daily to contemplate life, to revel in nature, to be thankful for all that surrounds me. I take time to smell the roses.


{Day 18} 31 Days of Writing Challenge


a place where time stops
and dreams come true

a place where a soft breeze
breathes life

a place where quitting
is never an option

a place where a touch of a petal
brings a smile

a place where distant views
infuse hopes and wishes

a place where chaos
actually soothes


{Day 17} 31 Days of Writing Challenge


this little junco
landed on the deck
in the midst of
a blizzard

he found the seeds
we had sprinkled
in a small shoveled path

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he called to the others


don’t be afraid


{Day 16} 31 Days of Writing Challenge


I can feel it

an almost
sitting at the doorstep

a maybe
lurking in the shadows

a sliver of sunlight
sneaking above the horizon

I can feel it

a perfectly
formed snowflake
melting on my nose

a possibility
laying its head
upon my shoulder



{Day 15} 31 Days of Writing Challenge

Pure Joy

they played basketball
against the garage
as I gently tugged the weeds
from my childhood garden

pansies and coleus and wild violets
streams of light and color
an artist’s brush
swept haphazardly,
yet, purposefully across a landscape

aromas so intoxicating
a blossom held
in a 10 year old hand
love at first sight

pure joy.


{Day 14} 31 Days of Writing Challenge


A rock on the beach
A kiss on the cheek
A balmy breeze
A smile
A gentle touch
A memory
A glance
A Roaring Fire
Holding Hands
A long forgotten song
A peaceful heart

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