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  • David W. Parsley

    Lothlorien Poetry Journal - The Bridge at Tsavo, 1898

    By David W. Parsley

    Continuing to follow in Phil's footsteps.  Longtime readers on PMO will recognize this one, but check out the illustrations chosen by the editors to accompany it. Lothlorien Poetry Journal: One Poem by David Parsley And of course it can also be found here with all the scintillating commentary and discussion by PMO members.  An entry for the languishing Notes from the Common Era.  - Dave
    • 2 comments
    • 1,258 views
  • bob

    The Violin

    By bob

    illustrated by Robert g. Jerore   The Violin     It was an average size theater, capable of seating two hundred persons. Tonight it was filled to capacity. The variety of entertainment presented during this evenings program was very enjoyable. There had been two vocal solos; a small singing group; an orchestral presentation; twin pianos duet, and a flautist. The twenty minute intermission which allowed a comfort break was over, and the second half of the evenings program was near
    • 2 comments
    • 4,788 views

Our community blogs

  1. PMO Members' Promotional Blog

    badger11
    Latest Entry

    By badger11,

    I have a collaborative effort appearing here

    https://www.streetcakemagazine.com/issue.html

  2. SKY 268
    Latest Entry

    By SKY 268,

    Bien venido
    God's children
    Bien venido
    To a beautiful day
    Let's not waste that day
    By sleeping in
    If we sleep in we will
    Not sleep at night
    So we must enjoy this
    Day
    Then we decided to go for
    A swim
    We don't go into the deep area
    Because the deep is not
    For us
    Because we are not a
    Strong swimmer
    Also we could drawn if
    We go into the deep
    And also we are not
    Planning to die
    We are only teenagers
    Now
    And we will enjoy it
    While we can
    Because one day our
    Teenager lives
    Will be over
    And then we will start
    Our adult lives
    Also at night before we
    Go to bed
    We say prayers to each other
    At our teenager lives we
    Had our first communion
    AIso in our communion
    We had cried out of joy
    Also we felt very emotional
    We never forgot that day
    Our father had thought
    Us how to pray
    And we all had had prayed
    Together for one hour
    We know that it was amazing

  3. Before I wrote poetry I danced. I told stories with my hands.  You might say as a poet I still tell stories with my hands as they float across the keyboard.  I was recently prompted to write a blog about what kind of music made me want to get up and dance.  Here is my response.

    Storyteller

    Time has flown since
    humuhumunukunukuapuaha’a *
    swam from my fingertips
    as I danced
    the tales I was taught.
    These same hands
    built a business,
    showed horses how to trust
    and the babe
    in my arms how to love.

    Now spotted with age,
    my fingers float
    across a keyboard
    placing phrases on a page
    to tell my stories.
                    ~Judi Van Gorder

    I dance to the music in my soul. If it has a beat, I can move to it. I have been a dancer all of my life.

    My Mom said I danced before I could walk. By the age of 5 she put me in tap lessons, very popular in the 40s. I graduated to jazz and at the age of 7, the dance school offered a class in hula taught by a Hawaiian instructor. My Mom thought it would teach me grace and enrolled me, There were only 4 girls in our class, I was the youngest. Throughout my teens our little quartet toured with a troupe, dancing the hula and some Tahitian numbers. We were very popular and got pretty good.

    Many years later when I first opened my insurance agency, an older woman came into my office for insurance. She had just moved to California from Hawaii. When I asked her occupation she said "hula dancer". And of course, I responded, "I can hula". She shook her head and politely laughed at the blonde houli on the other side of the desk and nicely told me that to be a good hula dancer you need to begin training at a young age. At that, I stood, slipped off my heels, walked around the side of the desk and went into a vamp. She could only respond, "You can hula!". Yes, I can.

    A few years later while visiting the Island of Maui as a Soroptimist regional board member for an International Leadership Conference, other board members and myself were out for an evening and stopped at a nice bar for a drink after dinner. There were some locals at the bar, playing ukuleles and guitars and a woman from their group got up and began to hula. It happened to be a song I knew from when I was a kid so I took off my shoes and joined her. The local Hawaiians were delighted that I knew the dance and moved like a native. They wanted more and the woman and I obliged. My fellow board members were in awe and wanted to learn. Of course, I had to shake my head, politely laugh and nicely told them that to be a good hula dancer you need to begin training at a young age. *Wink*

    I may be old now, but my body knows how to move with grace and rhythm. I can still do the hula. I love to dance and don't need much encouragement to do so.

    graceful hands
    tell a story while hips sway
    in rhythm
              ~~jvg

    * Hawaii’s state fish shown through the hands of the hula dancer by extending the left hand, palm down and placing the right hand on top with thumbs protruding on each side. The hands then undulate while the thumbs rotate. “when the humuhumunukunukuapua’a come swimming by”  ♬

    Keep Writing!

    ~~Judi aka Tinker

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