Have a Happy Day!

Dill Pickle Relish
by Shelley Bain

Onions

Cucumbers

Bell peppers

Garlic

Wispy

Dark green

Ferny

Leaves,

Light brown

Oval

Convex seeds

Atop an umbrella

Of delicate

Yellow green fronds

Chopped cucumbers

and garlic

Simmering in

Vinegar

Onions and peppers

burning your eyes

tingling your nose

Tangy

Sour

Oh so sweet

Dill pickle relish

Packed in jars

On the shelves.

An Unbeautiful Face

by Shelley Bain 

An unbeautiful face

stares,

at an unbeautiful face.

Gleaming pearls

spilling

into the palm of her hand

one

two

ten

twenty.

Lustrous saffron pearls.

An unbeautiful face

stares,

at an unbeautiful face.

Gleaming pearls

nestled

in the palm of her hand

one

two

ten

twenty.

An empty vial.

An unbeautiful face

stares,

at an unbeautiful face

and swallows

lustrous saffron pearls.

some more journaling -

My poem and the journal pages to illustrate it:

Call me Crone

By Shelley Bain

Well-worn woman

old, rawboned.

Never—

Wise woman

Vibrant, voluptuous—

Once

maiden,

full of youth’s passion— laden

with eagerness for summer.

Underestimated strong savvy

Maiden,

lover of intercourse, exploring delightful-uninhibited wonder—

wise guidance sought

knowledge attained

Goddess revealed.

The waxing moon.

Forever

Mother

nurturer, protector—another

springtime, bountiful earth transformed.

Selfless, compassionate caretaker

Mother,

Lover of fulfillment from life freely shared—

fierce with emotions,

fecundity and grace,

Goddess reborn.

The full moon.

Behold

the Crone

wise woman grown

 from the chill of winter, the evanescence of earth.

Wise teacher, peaceful consort,

Crone,

Provides sage counsel, imparts sacred wisdom—

Conscious, empowered; ready

to rewrite the story of aging,

Goddess fulfilled.

The waning moon.

Call me Crone.

I've been doing some art journaling for the past few months so I thought I'd try to share some of my pages here.

Imagine it

Imagine it

Come with me let's open the door—
If we can imagine it—it
can be done.

Spring urgently rises, from the transition
winter sank deeply into the brown
brittle skeletons of fall’s
frozen harvest.

The land awakens as we embark on our
journey to conquer the dragon—
Fairy magic transforming
the kingdom—
Fragrance

filling the air with insatiable desire—Thirst
swelling as the naked earth
opens—quivering at
the touch of the
sun’s sublime
embrace.

No longer resisting the palpable expectancy
our hearts embrace the earth’s essence—
The glint of green announcing
nature’s rebirth, as we walk
among beds, preparing
to turn our vision
into a garden.

by Shelley Bain