Remembering …

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Remembrance II

~*~

Their blood was lost;

In battle died

While far away

Their mothers cried.

The war not theirs,

But fought they did

For noble cause

Their bodies bled.

With open heart

And focused mind

They gave their all

For humankind.

Remember them,

Forget them not,

Our precious freedom

Their lives bought.

~*~

Stream of consciousness words for a day of remembering.

~*~

Archie Gordon

A salute to my great uncle, Flight Engineer Archibald Don Gordon, Bomber Command 405 Squadron killed in action April 6, 1942 over the Bay of Biscay, France. He was 23 years old.

Thanks for visiting …

Dorothy

©Dorothy E. Chiotti … All Rights Reserved 2018 … Aimwell CreativeWorks

Day’s End

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Light

~*~

Mother Earth

Blanketed in warm embrace

Of setting sun.

Another day is done.

Father Moon

Singing silent lullaby;

A chorus of emerging stars

Twinkling their

“Good night …”

~*~

Thanks for visiting …

Dorothy

~*~

©Dorothy Chiotti … Aimwell CreativeWorks 2015 

Reflections of England

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Weekly Photo Challenge: Reflections

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Near Fishbourne, Isle of Wight

Near Fishbourne, Isle of Wight

~*~

This reflection written during our visit to England last fall.

An Ode to England

A part of my heart

In England lies,

Upon the green hills

Under grey skies.

By acorns grown old,

In villages quaint,

By waters run cold,

By the church of a saint.

Embraced by a wood,

Entranced by a dale,

Enamored of history

Hearty and hail.

~*~

Roman Baths, Bath, Somerset

Roman Baths, Bath, Somerset

~*~

Near Skipton, Yorkshire

Near Skipton, Yorkshire

~*~

The garden gate at Hilltop, home of Beatrix Potter, Windermere, Cumbria

The garden gate at Hilltop, home of Beatrix Potter, Windermere, Cumbria

~*~

A swan upon the River Thames, Windsor, Berkshire

A swan upon the River Thames, Windsor, Berkshire

Thanks for visiting …

Dorothy 🙂

~*~

©Dorothy Chiotti, Aimwell CreativeWorks 2014

Shout Outs

Stuff and Nonsense

Wind Against Current

Eclectic Odds n Sods

The Other Pictures.

Isadora Art and Photography

Freddy’s Photo Project

Just Another Sunset

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Just Another Sunset

Just another setting sun,

Another burning sky.

Another chance to bid the day

A lingering goodbye.

A fiery prelude to the night

Tired spirits to renew,

As nature’s warm enduring light

Now fades away from view.

~*~

Thanks for visiting …

Dorothy 🙂

©Dorothy Chiotti, Aimwell CreativeWorks 2014

Snow Can Be So Pretty

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Coated

~*~

An eerie stillness permeates the air

And with the wind the trees doth creak and moan.

Their naked branches not so very bare;

As coat of ice doth shiver, shake and groan.

Ol’ Man of Winter hath his fury wrought

As Mother Nature weeps for what she’s lost.

The children of the Earth in tempest caught

Their innocence, as e’er, too high a cost.

*

The calm after the storm a vacant shock

As minds and hearts and souls themselves adjust

To what is lost of nature’s precious stock

And come to terms with this we children must.

For precious life to all of us is given,

But none of us are guaranteed to heaven.

~*~

I’ve started a new journal.

As I am inclined to do, I flipped through the pages of my last journal to see what I’d left behind and found this sonnet written during the great ice storm of Christmas week December 2013.

Written by candlelight, I imagine. I don’t remember. That week is such a blur. Surreal, I suppose.

I love trees and it distressed me to see them suffer under the volume of ice they bore. 

Now, two months later, the only ice left is under foot, and this is a hazard all its own.

Perhaps a month from now the view will be green instead of white. Judging by the mountains of snow and three inches of ice underneath it, spring could be a long way away … and messy.

Still, snow can be so pretty.

Winter

Thanks for visiting,

Dorothy 🙂

~*~

©Dorothy Chiotti, Aimwell Creative Works

A Drive In the Country … Yorkshire Dales, England

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Malham

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Not for the faint of heart

Those devil-dare roads

That wind and course

And spill o’er vale and rambling hill.

 *

‘Tween walls of stone unyielding.

Scarce room to breathe as

Bumper whispers to bumper

“Take care o’er there by Malham Cove.”

 *

As mists roll in a view obscured.

One dare not say, nor breathe, a word

As through the rolling roads we pass and

Pray for cushion of the grass.

Dorothy Chiotti
All Rights Reserved

~*~

Malham Cove

Malham Cove

This short, haphazard poem was inspired by a rather haphazard drive through the Yorkshire Dales.

My husband wasn’t driving at the time. His uncle, who resides in Skipton, sped us through a jam-packed one-day excursion, which took us by many lovely ancient villages; up into the hills at Malham; over to Bolton Abbey and whatever else he could squeeze into a whirlwind tour.

The scenery was glorious. I really wish we could have spent more time there.

It was a long driving day and Lloyd’s uncle, who is 86 and has lived in the area for many years (and who swims 34 laps of a 25 metre pool four mornings a week), drove those familiar narrow, winding stone wall-lined roads like a speedway ~ that is to say FAST!!!

To be fair, everyone drives those roads ~ roads that were never designed for modern-day passing traffic ~ like speeding demons.

It’s all part of the charm, I suppose … and why it’s unlikely I shall ever take the wheel of a car in the Yorkshire Dales myself. 😉

~*~

While in England, in September, I adopted a bit of a writing experiment.

As we travelled by car around the country, my husband driving, I kept a blank-paged journal and a pen ever at hand to write down whatever inspired as we went.

It was a fun exercise which, apart from leaving me with a few inspired gems (and some jibberish, but that’s the creative process, right?) also instilled a greater sense of how much of my heart still resides in this land where I spent my formative years.

The view inspired, the memories flowed, my heart was filled and the words came.

I’ll be posting them as the spirit moves.

Thanks for visiting …

Dorothy 🙂

~*~

©Dorothy Chiotti, Aimwell CreativeWorks 2013

God’s Grandeur

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Weekly Photo Challenge: Grand

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Grand is the splendour of things ... Sunset over West Sussex, England

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God’s Grandeur

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.

It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;

It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil

Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?

Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;

And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;

And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil

Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

*

And for all this, nature is never spent;

There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;

And though the last lights off the black West went

Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —

Because the Holy Ghost over the bent

World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

Gerard Manley Hopkins 
1844-1889

~*~

One of my favourite poems by one of my favourite British poets.

This beautiful reflection on nature and renewal was brought to mind as I considered the word “grand.”

Thank you for visiting …

Dorothy 🙂

~*~

Image ©Dorothy Chiotti, Aimwell CreativeWorks 2013