Fences That We Build
Are Not Always Meant
To Keep People Away


There’s a house
Down the road from us.
It’s been there for years
Longer than I.  

It was neglected and it
Looked weary, trying to hold
Its own in
A grove of cedars.  

Then people of character
Moved in.
They patched holes and they
Painted boards.

But mostly, they
Put up fences.  
Fences that stretched
Around the sides of the
House, curving like
Welcoming arms
Reaching out
To passers by.  

Fences, offering
Friendship to  
All who would but
Venture a visit in.    


Susan Patterson
10-2013

This poem tells the story of a house that was in disrepair, but made whole again by people of character.  I love houses, any style, any kind.  It is sad to me to see a house that is left to fall apart little by little.  It is disrespectful.  And so the house in my poem is restored and then it is protected by fences that curve around and reach out. 

But the poem is also about people who build fences or barriers to protect themselves.  Often barriers are not meant to keep everyone out, just those who would do harm.  Getting to know a person who has his or her barriers up, may very well be the best thing since sliced bread.  So, when you meet someone who is surrounded by fences, it might just be worth the extra effort to find a way in.  skp

It's that time again,  Halloween.  Time for costumes and candy.  Now, I'm not fond of Halloween when it is all about the dead, evil spirits, fear, and blood that is spilled.  Personally I don't think that we should honor evil things, nor should we encourage our children to celebrate them. 

But, one cannot find objection to two such fun costumes as the ones that Dick and Lisa are sporting.  In fairness, however, I think that I must tell you, Dick is not wearing much of a costume.  That is almost his every day attire. 

In following with the Halloween holiday, you are invited it listen to an except of The Raven.  I recorded it for a presentation on Radio Kinver,  www.radiokinver.co.uk

Until next time, happy poetry to you!    skp

Unnoticed Moments


I cherish the unnoticed moments of life.
They drift in and out of my memory
Like the scent of a new season,
Or the touch of a warm hand.

Unnoticed moments make us wise.
They make us brave.  

It is the unnoticed moments
That urges us to forgive and
Brings us closure.  

It is unnoticed moments
That causes us to fall in love.

Unnoticed moments--
Sounds that
Utter what we need to hear.
Sights that allow us to see
Pieces formerly imperceptible.   

Unnoticed moments are those
That fly away if we do not reach
And catch them.  


Susan Patterson
09-2013

This poem is surely self explanatory.  There is no secret depth, there is no treasure in double meanings.  The poet simply proposes that what we think we don't need to pay attention to, may be just the very thing that our attention may value the most.  Best wishes for noticing your moments.  skp

My dear readers,

Thank you for reading The Causerie. You are faithful and attentive.  Some of you noticed that I did not publish for two weeks.  Ah, the rigors of daily life and the passions of a poet do not often coincide.  My apologies.  However, I feel that I am back on track with my life as well ordered and as peaceful l as I can make it.  My plan is to settle in to the fall and winter seasons with structure, beauty and calm.  And so, I hope that you enjoy today's Causerie,  a day early of my usual posting on Wednesdays. 

On another note, we are planning a visit to the United Kingdom in 2014.   If any of you readers have advice of specific places or people that we should certainly visit, please let me know.  I am a novice in traveling. 

And lastly, watch for a tea poem next posting for all of you tea affcianados.  Thanks.  skp

Cheery-bye my dears!  skp

Knowing

I was chatting with a long time, but not
Intimate friend.  I extended my usual
Asking of the family. This one time she
Spoke, without constraint.   
She told of grown children, still not grown, of
Broken marriages, of debt and
Desperation.  Illness of mind.
Pain lasting decades.
Pain, not always hers, but that which she
Witnessed to the point to taking on.   
And she told of supplying aid, but
To no avail.  

So soft and in such short words, she spoke,
There was no need to elaborate.
I knew.  I knew in my own world.
I knew and could only utter a low, almost inaudible
Response, ‘Yeh.’  ‘Yeh.’ my mouth hardly moving.
A dialogue in monotone.
There we were two worn women, telling what didn’t need
To be told, but must be shared to be endured.  We
Were in voice, barely a whisper, not looking at each other,
But in stares, out into the space of our ever-reaching time.
‘Yeh’, I murmured.  

Then she took charge, as each of us must do.  
She talked of music recitals, of meal preparations,
Of waiting for the future.  And she went on her way.
And I went on mine.  


Susan Patterson
6-2012

This poem is simply a conversation between two women.  But I think that it is one that most people can identify with, whether male or female.  We all struggle with life, with this and with that.  Sometimes our struggles are minor, other times they are almost more than we can bear.  But the bright spot of this poem is that both of the ladies were strong.  They took charge of their lives and moved forward.  It's often difficult to do, but it is something that all of us must do... take charge and move forward.   skp

Open Studios of Beavercreek Coming Up!


This fall, October 25, 26 and 27 there will be an art tour and sale, Open Studios of Beavercreek.  I hope that you plan now to attend.  This is a twice a year art show, sale and scenic drive.  There are 12 studios and 28 artists that will be offering their works to the public.  Please join me at my studio where you will books, cards and maybe a surprise or two.  Simply download a map from www.OpenStudiosOfBeavercreek.com  We are stop number one.  Come join the Patterson's for a visit, tea and cookies and let me read some poetry to you.  Watch for more information in the next Causerie.   skp

More Tea Poetry Coming Soon:  

Dear Readers,  I've actually had a request for more tea poetry on The Causerie.  It's true.  So, a little bit more often, I will dig into the archives and post some of the lovely tea poetry that got me started on this whole writing thing.  Hope you enjoy it.  skp

À bientôt !  skp

The Punctuality of a Yellow Rose


A friend sent me an image of a very late rose in his garden.
How stunning it was, blooming in the early autumn.  

One would not even think it had to struggle
With the shorter days or cooler nights.

One would only see the rapture of its beauty
In the depths of its center and in the fullness of its petals.

One would not consider it to be a very late rose at all.
One would only think it to be right on time.  


Susan Patterson
10-2013

Alexander Pope, the English satirist and poet, said, "Whatever is, is right."    I don't know if I totally agree with him, but there is something to think about in his supposition.  In this poem of nature I contend that a rose knows when and how to bloom. 

I've been amazed of late how often I am presented with exactly what I have needed out of circumstances that I thought were all messed up.  And then, of all things, I am surprised at the outcome.  Is it possible that if we let things be, whatever that is right will come along?  It's certainly something to think about.  skp 

▶ Find out what you have to have to live a good life.  Then surround yourself with those things.   Earlene Grey

I'm in the process of moving back into my old office space in my home of 35 years.  I've been out of this office space for about four years now.  I've missed it.  It's like being with an old friend. 

As part of my thinking process, I need to be able to look up and out in order for my thoughts to gel.   This room has a big front window from which I can look out and see what's going on.  It also has a second window at my back which lets light in for me to type without strain.  It is perfect for a writer. 

We are painting, putting up some knotty cedar panels, adding new book shelves and hanging my favorite art work. The whole process is causing much more work and hoopla than I anticipated, but the results will be very much worth it.   I will post pictures of the new office when it is complete.  Might we have some new and different poetry from the new/old space?  Well, I'll be right here, waiting for the muse to let me know.  skp

Cheery bye!    skp