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Archive for the ‘Compositions’ Category

Forlorn,

Creativity lost,

A train of abandoned thoughts,

Buried in the sands of time,

Like prairie dust.

If you’re silent – you can hear the whispers;

Now, only memories of a forgotten past.

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Stone Soup is a folktale about sharing during a time of hardship.

The age old tale begins with the arrival of a poor starving beggar at depression struck Village.  The Villagers hardly have enough provisions for themselves so refuse to feed this stranger.  The beggar then offers to share his meal with them. Obviously, the beggar has no food but he is an alchemist.  The magic begins when he adds a stone to a boiling pot of water. Curious, the untrusting Villagers gathered around the beggar to watch as he prepared the special soup.  Since none of the villagers had enough in there larder to share with others, they found the generosity of the poor beggar peculiar.

“What are you doing?” they asked.

He smiled politely at the unfriendly villagers while he wordlessly placed his pot of makeshift soup over a fire.

“I’m making stone soup.  It’s delicious.  I’ll be glad to share it with all of you when I’m finished.”

The villagers watched in awe as the beggar dipped his ladle into the mixture and tasted it. (more…)

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“Go ahead, you can pet her.  It’s okay.”

Little Britches eyed his father suspiciously, even at the ripe old age of two; he’d mastered the art of discernment.

Little Britches’ father was his hero. Still, he wasn’t totally convinced that petting that little bunting cow at the edge of the deck sniffing lilacs was in his best interest.  Heck, the cows buddy, a young golden lab, knocked him over in exuberant body wriggling, tail wagging licking episodes – and, that farm dog wasn’t as big as the mini black cow with the white face they called Mable!

Little Britches shoved his hands deep into the pocket of his jeans and shifted his weight from one rubber boot to the other, his bright inquiring eyes peering up at his father from below his Blue Jays ball cap. He needed a tidbit more encouragement before attempting, “Mission: touch-the-cow!” (more…)

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I got picked up by beetleypete in the United Kingdom!
Quite an auspicious milestone for this little ol’ country
gal and The Trefoil Muse!
Please read what happened, “Upon Finding beetleypete!”

beetleypete

We don’t hear that much about Canada these days. Ever since the French-speaking people in Quebec stopped protesting about the British Royal Family, and Pierre Trudeau died, it seems that Canada hardly exists outside of North America. No reports of how they have been affected by the pandemic, and not even a feature on one of their ‘big freeze’ weather events. So when I read a post on the blog of Canadian writer Nadine Gordon, I thought it was only right to ask her to appear here as a guest blogger, and let us know what is going in in that vast country.

The Trefoil Muse Blog

https://thetrefoilmuse.blog/

This is a short ‘bio’ about the author, Nadine Gordon.

I began my writing career as a journalist for a small local newspaper. That’s where I discovered while interviewing several subjects that they shone while relating their own stories of how they…

View original post 2,941 more words

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This is an update on my last post regarding the progress of Bill C-10; an Act to Amend the Broadcasting Act here in Canada.

Let me start this article by sharing a quote from a fellow Canadian regarding the digital sphere:

 

“We need to pay attention to what is happening. 

The very character of our country is at stake,”

                                Justin Trudeau, Prime Minister of Canada, May 16, 2019

 

I agree; we most definitely do need to pay attention to what is happening! Our entire country is literally being torn apart by some of the very characters who lead it!  The digital sphere is only one area being abhorrently affected by these characters. (more…)

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Normally, I stay out of the political arena however there are times when one needs to stand up and shout.

This bill will directly affect Canadian’s freedom of speech and since mainstream media has not been reporting on it as yet, I feel the need to share.

True, I do not have a great deal of followers but I might have enough to cause a ripple effect. For if my Canadian readers feel the same way I do about this bill and value their right to publish or even read the written word without fear of Government censureship. Then the attempt to pass this bill behind closed doors needs to stop.

If I tell two people then you tell two people, the ripple will become a tidal bore – perhaps even a tsunami. Let’s cause some awareness.

Stop Bill C-10!

Thank-you for reading, sharing and taking action!

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Imagine the power it must take for a seed to burst from its shell.

All around us seedlings are growing from the warmth and strength provided by Mother Earth.

Imagine if you too had that type of power.  How would you use it?

Now, remember this; you do have that type of power – use it with gratitude and a loving heart.

The Earth sustains us all.

Happy Earth Day!

April 22, 2021

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Yonder lays a crawling valley,

Where mustangs once did graze,

Amongst the sage and prairie grass,

But, that was in my younger days;

Now coyotes howl and eagles shrill,

At the setting sun on yonder hills,

We mourn the horses of crawling valley.

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“I am a weaver; a weaver of words.

Writers are weavers of words.

I am a writer. 

Oh, what tales we Weaver’s weave when our well scripted words are spun together into a magical yarn.

I am a writer; a weaver of magical yarns. 

I am a Weaver; a weaver of magical yarn.

I am a Weaver.”

 

 

I have always been a fan of folklore, myths and parables.  Recently, I came across the story of a Wise old Weaver woman hidden in a cave. Every culture has mystical tales that tell of Weaver’s hidden in places unknown or away from civilization.  Their only company a big black dog. They weave beautiful capes, robes or blankets with ethereal cords from the cosmos which are never completed because chaos (the dog) intervenes to unravel their work, at which point the Weaver’s begin again.  The myth is that if the Weaver ever completes their work, the world will end.  These Weaver’s have been creating this article of beauty since the beginning of time.

During the winter months, I began to weave.  It all started because of boredom.  I am an active person.  I don’t deal well with boredom.  Boredom led me toward the need to purge.  It’s astounding the amount of items that one accumulates and then holds on to for no real reason.  The time had come for me to remove needless items from my home – make more space – let’s say; in those dark, shadowy closeted spaces one like me hesitates to venture into.

I read a piece of prose by Andrew The Lonely Author at www.thelonelyauthorblog.com ; it started with, “love hung in her closet,” what an enchanting thought!

I am a little terrified of what might be hanging in my closets – cobwebs and skeletons.  But, there is proper timing for everything and the time for purging was now. (more…)

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