Monday, 27 August 2012

I love August...

...when high summer-hype is over,
the main bulk of holiday guests gone....

time to relax...

and to chill-out...



This is the time when our Hydrengeas turning...

...into a multitude of color shades....

The time for...


...with family...

...and friends


Time for reading and "day dreams"....

"In August"

Heat urges secret odors from the grass.
Blunting the edge of silence, crickets shrill.
Wings veer: inane needles of light, and pass.
Laced pools: the warm wood-shadows ebb and fill.
The wind is casual, loitering to crush
The sun upon his palate, and to draw
Pungence from pine, frank fragrances from brush,
Sucked up through thin grey boughs as through a straw.

Moss-green, fern-green and leaf and meadow-green
Are broken by the bare, bone-colored roads,
Less moved by stirring air than by unseen
soft-footed ants and meditative toads.
Summer is passing, taking what she brings:
Green scents and sounds, and quick ephemeral wings.

-- Babette Deutsch


August - my favorite month of the summer

I love it...


Babette Deutsch

Poet, novelist, editor, and critic Babette Deutsch was born and lived much of her life in New York City. 
She began to publish poems in journals such as the New Republic while a student at Barnard College, 
where she earned a BA. 
Two years after her graduation, she published her first poetry collection, Banners (1919). 
read more .....

Friday, 17 August 2012

Tuesday, 7 August 2012

"Full of Summer".....

"Full of Summer"

This is the full of summer, this is all
Bold bumblebees have always dreamed about;
This floating is my rise that has no fall;
This steadiness my in that has no out.

And this my body's happiness -- the call
Persuading me to pause deep in today
As purple clover scents the swaying air
Bold bumblebees have always dreamed about.

I watch more ripeness ripening the way
A whirling orange blur of oriole
Blends with lake water blazing everywhere;
A hummingbird suspended at a rose
As if in mimic of the sun whose flare
Holds her eternal moment in my mind.

This is my opening that has no close;
This is my now with then now left behind
And icy wind a thought thought can forestall:
This is the full of summer, this is all.

 Robert Pack




"Entschleunigung" - "Deceleration".... a friends place....




...and peaceful

taking a few holidays...

Until then......k


Robert Pack
 (born New York, NY, May 19, 1929) is an American poet and critic, 
and Distinguished Senior Professor in the Davidson Honors College at the University of Montana. 

 In 1957 Pack was awarded a Fulbright Fellowship to Italy to translate poetry. 
During his year abroad, he traveled extensively, attending opera performances. 
Later he would publish translations of the Mozart librettos, and the figure of Mozart -- 
along with other beloved figures, such as Darwin, Freud, and Einstein -- appear throughout his poetry.
Pack, as always, exhibits a technical mastery that has all but disappeared from recent poetry. 
His meters have relaxed, creating an unusual suppleness and ease in his recounting of family anecdotes, 
and they have veered further than ever from those of his old master, Robert Frost. by Mark Strand

here more: