GLORIA (R.I.P.)

       My Dear Sister Gloria,

       Gone from our world--two years now--we speak love to you and about you.

       Remembering with grateful hearts your generosity in all ways. 

       Your journey is ended; our journey continues.

       Love and Peace from all your family & friends.

            

                                                  

Remembering the Veteran

                                   With Love

Jane Kenyon

            As promised a little moment from my cento collection:  

 

                 The poet Jane Kenyon was born on this day in 1947. 

                                     She died of leukemia in 1995.

                           Her beloved husband was Donald Hall

                                                              

                                                             

                                            Beautiful Poet

                                                                           Rest in Peace

                                                

                     

                           

Book Of Cento Poems--Gunton

              

          Putting Words Next To Silence

          Dear Friends,

          With joy and gratitude I share with you the publication

           of my collection of cento poems by SpecialBooks.com

           Royalties from this book will go to The Eudist Servants

           of the 11th Hour (an Order of Religious Women) founded

           by Mother Antonia Brenner--known lovingly as the "Prison

           Angel." 

           

                                        

                I look forward to sharing more about this book with you, especially as we

              continue to celebrate National Poetry Month. 

                     I hope you will take a minute to check out the publisher's website.

                                      Blessings as we move into Holy Week.

Begin Again . . .with "A Prayer"

 Dear Friends, 

 Because of my absence from this space for so long, I thought

 it might be nice to put a song in your heart. Here is one that

 never fails to move me. 

 https://youtu.be/DbviXG_56ss

And during these April Days of Poetry--

may we find the right words 

to express our sadness and hope for the world around us. 

 

MARVIN BELL (Poet)

                                      

                               Marvin Bell was born August 3, 1937. 

                       He died in 2020 after publishing over 20 books.

                      The first Poet Laureate of Iowa gave me a cento 

                                            through lines appearing

                                              in his 1984 collection: 

 Drawn by Stones, by Earth, by Things that Have Been in the Fire.

(Antheneum, New York)

        The Literary journal Vita Poetica recently published my Marvin Bell poem

                               "Putting Words Next to Silence."

                    You may read/listen to this cento poem at 

          https://www.vitapoetica.org/poetry/putting-words-next-to-silence

                                    (With thanks to all at Vita Poetica.)  

        "Being a grownup means knowing that things end."

                                                                                                               -Marvin Bell

                                                                (2018 Interview The Rumpus)

                                                  

E. B. White

 On this day in 1899  E. B. White was born.

In a letter to the poet Philip Booth, Mr. White said that a good poem is

like an anchovy: it makes you want another right away and pretty soon

the tin is empty and you have a bellyache or a small bone caught in your

throat or both.

Makes me smile! (and if you're a poet) you wish you might be as true 

and clever and original as Mr. White.

        Now why place an Agapanthus (Lily of the Nile) right in the middle
       of good stuff about E. B. White. Well, our sidewalks are leaning with
       an abundance of these flowers  and one can hardly get by without
       knocking the neck out of them. And I have another little story about
       our New Yorker essayist, which has to do with sidewalks and a comment
       from one of his friends.

               I trust that you will spare the reading public 

          your little adventures in sidewalk contentment. 

       With deep gratitude to E.B. White for all his stories.