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Satin & Sand

~ Reflections on Beauty

Satin & Sand

Tag Archives: Poetry

Winter solstice…

21 Monday Dec 2020

Posted by Satin & Sand in Photography

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Hope, Poetry, Susan Cooper, Syracuse, WInter Solstice

© David Dodds


The Shortest Day
And so the Shortest Day came and the year died
And everywhere down the centuries of the snow-white world
Came people singing, dancing,
To drive the dark away.
They lighted candles in the winter trees;
They hung their homes with evergreen;
They burned beseeching fires all night long
To keep the year alive.
And when the new year’s sunshine blazed awake
They shouted, reveling.
Through all the frosty ages you can hear them
Echoing behind us — listen!
All the long echoes, sing the same delight,
This Shortest Day,
As promise wakens in the sleeping land:
They carol, feast, give thanks,
And dearly love their friends,
And hope for peace.
And now so do we, here, now,
This year and every year.

by Susan Cooper
The Shortest Day book

There is something magical about the winter solstice. It is a time to celebrate! Despite all the woes of this last year, we have made it through to its shortest day and can now look forward to longer, lighter, and dare to hope for, better days ahead!

After 800 years, The Great Conjunction of Saturn and Jupiter can be seen again tonight after sunset.

A snapshot of the day….

07 Wednesday Oct 2020

Posted by Satin & Sand in Design, Fashion, Photography, Reflections, Writing

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Happiness, Jane Kenyon, Photography, Poetry

© James Currie

There’s just no accounting for happiness
or the way it turns up like a prodigal
who comes back to the dust at your feet
having squandered a fortune far away.
from Happiness by Jane Kenyon

It was a day of happiness and it was wonderful!

Another spring…

20 Friday Mar 2015

Posted by Satin & Sand in Photography, Reflections, Writing

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Bird nest, Christina Rossetti, Nest, Poetry, Spring, Victorian poetry

Spring Nest by Joan Currie

Spring Nest © Joan Currie

Another Spring
If I might see another Spring,
I’d not plant summer flowers and wait:
I’d have my crocuses at once,
My leafless pink mezereons,
My chill-veined snow-drops, choicer yet
My white or azure violet,
Leaf-nested primrose; anything
To blow at once, not late.

If I might see another Spring
I’d listen to the daylight birds
That build their nests and pair and sing,
Nor wait for mateless nightingale;
I’d listen to the lusty herds,
The ewes with lambs as white as snow,
I’d find out music in the hail
And all the winds that blow.

If I might see another Spring –
Oh stinging comment on my past
That all my past results in “if” –
If I might see another Spring,
I’d laugh to-day, to-day is brief;
I would not wait for anything:
I’d use to-day that cannot last,
Be glad to-day and sing.

By Christina Rossetti

Savoring the signs of spring…

You, on the other side…

21 Saturday Dec 2013

Posted by Satin & Sand in Art, Reflections, Relationships, Writing

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Art, Grieving, Loss of loved one, Memories, Mixed media, Poetry, Remembering, Woman with Roses

Lauren in Joshua Tree

Lauren DiMarco at Joshua Tree

 Still Too Sharp
by Joan Currie

My memories of you are like shards of glass, 
they have to be handled very carefully.
Fearing that if I were to sustain a wound,
the bleeding would never stop…

A life worth living…

16 Friday Aug 2013

Posted by Satin & Sand in Aging, Art, Design, Garden, Reflections

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Alfred Austin, Art, Charcoal sketch, Poetry, Summer, Youth

Joan Currie Iris

African White Iris © Joan Currie

When Summer, lingering half-forlorn,
On Autumn loves to lean,
And fields of slowly yellowing corn
Are girt by woods still green;
When hazel-nuts wax brown and plump,
And apples rosy-red,
And the owlet hoots from hollow stump,
And the dormouse makes its bed;
from Is Life Worth Living? – by Alfred Austin

This poem brought me back to the delicious summers of my childhood…

RP-T-1948-88

A lasting fragrance…

07 Wednesday Aug 2013

Posted by Satin & Sand in Aging, Art, Fashion, Photography, Reflections, Relationships, Writing

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Aging, Fashion, Lauren DiMarco, Longfellow, Photography, Poetry, Time

Party dress by Joan Currie

Party dress @ Joan Currie

Maiden, that read’st this simple rhyme, Enjoy thy youth, it will not stay; Enjoy the fragrance of thy prime, For oh, it is not always May!

from It Is Not Always May by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Sometimes it is hard not to lament the passing of time…

Getty image

Getty image

Standing pretty…

02 Saturday Feb 2013

Posted by Satin & Sand in Art, Design, Fashion, Relationships

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Fashion, John Burroughs, Poetry, Shoes, watercolor

lauren in Joshua Tree w

Lauren DiMarco in Joshua Tree

What matter if I stand alone?
I wait with joy the coming years;
My heart shall reap where it hath sown,
And garner up its fruit of tears.
from the poem Waiting by John Burroughs

Still hopeful that you will stand by my side one day…

Hallowe’en…

31 Wednesday Oct 2012

Posted by Satin & Sand in Design, Fashion, Photography, Reflections, Writing

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Hallowe'en, Hallowe'en costume, Poetry, Robert Herrick poem, Witch

© Joan Currie

To work magic is to weave the unseen forces into form; to soar beyond sight; to explore the uncharted dream realm of the hidden reality. – Starhawk from Simple Abundance by Sarah Ban Breathnach

My childhood Hallowe’en costumes were always some variation on the witch theme, with the capes becoming more and more elaborate as the years went on. I think I fared better than my siblings who opted for ghost garb.

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Red hot…

28 Friday Sep 2012

Posted by Satin & Sand in Fashion, Photography, Reflections, Relationships, Writing

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Emily Dickinson, Fashion, Love, Photography, Poetry

© Joan Currie

That I did always love
I bring thee Proof
That till I loved
I never lived-Enough-
from That I did always love by Emily Dickinson

Perhaps it is time to turn up the heat…

Memory overload…

16 Thursday Aug 2012

Posted by Satin & Sand in Art, Design, Photography, Reflections, Relationships

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Art, Collage, memory, Poetry, Relationships, Tennyson, The Idylls of the King

Lauren in Vancouver at ferry docks

Lauren DiMarco in Vancouver © Joan Currie

Her memory from old habit of the mind
Went slipping back upon the golden days
In which she saw him first,…
from The Idylls of the King – Guinevere by Tennyson

I remember first seeing him standing in the doorway of the dockside restaurant.

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