Beautiful Puzzling 2…

14 Tuesday Apr 2026

Posted by Satin & Sand in Lauren DiMarco, Photography, Poetry, Reflections

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Bloomsbury style, Doubt and Failth, Imperfection, Jigsaw puzzle, Lauren DiMarco, Missing pieces, Original poetry, Photography, Poetry, Puzzle, Small revelations

_{© Lauren DiMarco – My daughter, Lauren, arranging the puzzle pieces.}

Puzzling 2 by Joan Currie

I brought home
a thousand-piece puzzle
from the library sale.

I sorted the pieces
by color, by edge,
and began.

A sail,
a spaniel,
a clock tower,
a child.

Then I saw
what was missing:

The sail’s middle,
the spaniel’s tail,
the clock face,
the child’s upturned face.

I turned each piece
in my hand,
looking.

I felt a small anger–
that it had been given away
like this.

Still, I went on,
knowing
it would not be whole.

Each piece placed
meant fewer left.

And then–
they were there.

Not missing.
Only overlooked.

I sat with that
a long while–
how quickly
I had doubted.

How beautiful to discover the missing pieces!

Please check out my Puzzling Post (1).

Beautiful Touch Typing…

08 Wednesday Apr 2026

Posted by Satin & Sand in Aging, beautiful, Poetry, Relationships

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Aging, Body, Halda typewriter, Love, memory, observation, Original poetry, Poetry, touch, touch typing, typewriter

_{© James Currie – Swedish typewriter. The designer’s father was the Royal Surgeon.}

It seemed a small thing then, learning by touch. – Joan Currie

Touch Typing by Joan Currie

I first learned to type
on a machine with blank key caps,
working through a manual
until I knew exactly
where every letter and number lay.
That early fluency
has served me well.

Your body, too, I first
touched–memorized
blindly, in the dark.
Exploring each contour,
as if it were a map
I could follow by feel alone.

From your thick, curling hair
down the slope of your forehead,
to each familiar landmark–
the aquiline nose, the square jaw,
the wide sternum, the strong arms,
the soft pads of your fingers,
the smooth plain of your belly,
the steely band along your outer thigh,
the steady weight of your feet.

Over the years
you have shown me
how your body has changed,
but I still see it
as I first learned it–
certain, enduring,
and, to me,
handsome still.

My hands remember.

Beautiful Easter Dinner…

04 Saturday Apr 2026

Posted by Satin & Sand in Art, Baking, beautiful, Easter, Family, Poetry, Reflections

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domestic life, Easter, Easter dinner, family traditions, memory, Original poetry, Pieter Claesz, Poetry, still life painting

_{Pieter Claesz – Dutch Breakfast Still Life (17th c.)}

Easter Dinner by Joan Currie

I think of Easter dinner
when my mother was alive.

The sideboard bowed
under its burden.

We came to the table,
hungry from Lent,
and ate.

Ham glazed with maple,
potatoes in cream,
asparagus with Hollandaise,
eggs split and filled,
ambrosia–too sweet,
with coconut.

There was lemon pie
with its high, wavering crown,
carrot cake thick
with frosting,
and the small bright candies
we carried away in our pockets.

I am grateful
for that appetite,
for the unthinking plenty.

Now my guests call ahead–
no sugar, no dairy,
no this, no that.

I pause at the counter,
hand on the phone,

and say,
perhaps we’ll go out.

Wishing you a very Happy Easter!

Beautiful One Small Light…

03 Friday Apr 2026

Posted by Satin & Sand in Art, Poetry, Reflections, Writing

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Algonquin Park, Canoe Lake, Darkness, Dusk, Finding your way, Group of Seven, Landscape painting, Light, Nature writing, Original poetry, Solitude, Tom Thomson

_{By Tom Thomson – Sunset, Canoe Lake, Autumn 1915. The artist drowned here in 1917. I know this lake well and have felt his presence.}

“The light will leave– and you must reckon with what follows.” Tom Thomson

When Darkness Falls by Joan Currie

The pale rose of dusk
lingered longer than I expected.
I knew there would be a parting–
a lover’s touch
I wished might go on,
but wouldn’t.

I left the path
to find a higher place,
hoping to hold
the last of the light.

But darkness came at once–
a dull closing,
as if a door had been shut
behind me.

I was off the trail,
caught in the undergrowth,
turning this way and that,
not knowing.

For a long time
I did not move.
Branches shifted.
The woods held their breath.
Something unseen
pressed close.

Then I saw it–
a faint light
threaded through the trees.

I went toward it,
careful now,

thinking
how little it takes–
one small light–
to be led out.

Have you ever followed a light in the dark?

Beautiful Magnolia…

12 Thursday Mar 2026

Posted by Satin & Sand in Art, Birds, Flowers, Garden, Nature, Poetry

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beautiful, Birds, Botanical poetry, Chinese Song Dynasty, Fleeing beauty, Garden, Impermance, magnolia, magnolia blossom, Nature, Nature and Poetry, Original poetry, Poetic reflections, Poetry

_{Magnolia and Birds – Chinese Song Dynasty}

Magnolia Blossom by Joan Currie

You have bloomed first
in my back garden–
O sovereign of pale flame.

Your receptacle, a golden crown,
royal, resplendent;
your lavish velvet robes,
pallid yet proud, spread wide
and stained with magenta
all around you.

Astonishing us–
magnificent, insolent–
you parade your brief glory.

Beautiful White Horse…

05 Thursday Mar 2026

Posted by Satin & Sand in Animals, Art, beautiful, Nature, Painting, Poetry, watercolor

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beautiful, Eleanor Farjeon, Poetry, watercolor, white horses

_{© Joan Currie. My White Horse watercolor. Reference photo by Jane Davies.}

White Horses by Eleanor Farjeon

Count the white horses you meet on the way,
Count the white horses, child day after day,
Keep a wish ready for wishing – if you
Wish on the ninth horse, your wish will come true.

I saw a white horse at the end of the lane,
I saw a white horse canter down by the shore,
I saw a white horse that was drawing a wain,
And one drinking out of a tough: that made four.

I saw a white horse gallop over the down,
I saw a white horse looking over a gate,
I saw a white horse on the way into town,
And one on the way coming back: that made eight.

But oh for the ninth one: where he tossed his mane,
And cantered and galloped and whinnied and swished
His silky white tail, I went looking in vain,
And the wish I had ready could never be wished.

Count the white horses you meet on the way,
Count the white horses, child, day after day,
Keep a wish read for wishing – if you
Wish on the ninth horse, your wish will come true.

Beautiful First Iris, too…

26 Thursday Feb 2026

Posted by Satin & Sand in Art, beautiful, Flowers, Garden, Nature, Poetry, Reflections, watercolor

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A.M.S. Merian, First riser, Iris, Poetry, Poetry challenge

_{Bearded Iris by A.M.S. Merian that I colorized to match my dark purple one.}

The First Iris by Joan Currie

You rose before the others
and seized the light entire.

Brazen in purple,
you flung your velvet wide
and drank the sun in reckless drafts
as though it had been poured
for you alone.

Such extravagance is brief.

Already the hem of your robe
thins into air;
already the proud throat slackens,
gold dimming in its beard.

You, who would not share the morning,
shall be first brought low–
first to stain the earth
with the wreckage of your splendor.

And they–
patient, indistinct–
will rise in measured turn
and keep their modest light
long after yours is spent.

Beautiful First Mover…

19 Thursday Feb 2026

Posted by Satin & Sand in Art, Garden, Nature, Poetry, Reflections, watercolor

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Beauty, Continuing line drawing, Garden, Iris, Poetry, Post a week poetry challenge, Tiffany, watercolor

_{Mourning Iris by E.D. Ehret that I colorized to match the dark purple iris from my garden.}

First Mover by Joan Currie

When the weather is right–
not warm, not cold,
but something the earth understands–
a single iris
pushes through the soil.

No announcement.
Just the lifted stem, urgent with bloom,
certain of itself,
taking the light
as if it had been called.

Soon the hyacinths,
the daffodils, the crocuses,
will follow.

But for now
it stands alone-

and I wonder
about the others
still folded in darkness,
waiting for their hour.

_{© Joan Currie – My continuous line drawing of the iris.}

Beautiful Valentine…

12 Thursday Feb 2026

Posted by Satin & Sand in Art, beautiful, Daily Life, Family, Love, Mother, Mother-Child, Poetry, Reflections, Relationships, Valentine's Day

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Art, Childhood, Mary Cassatt, Mother's Love, Mother-Child, Poetry, Valentine's Day

_{Mary Cassatt, The Child’s Bath, c. 1880. Los Angeles County Museum of Art}

My Valentine by Joan Currie

Years now
from sleepless nights–

hands testing the warmth
of foreheads
and bath water,

kisses pressed
to crowns
after unsteady tumbles,

singing rhymes,
reciting ABCs,
pushing the swing
higher–higher–

and somehow,
by grace or miracle
they arrived at adulthood.

Even now,
my youngest daughter hands me a brush,
turns her back,

asks for a French braid,
a twist in her long chestnut hair–

as if I am still
the only one
who can do it just right.

Sometimes she asks me
to redo it.

Not because it is wrong.

But because she likes
the slow drawing of bristles,
the deep, patient strokes through
her thick hair,
the quiet nearness–

to have her hair brushed
by her mother
one more time.

Happy Valentines Day!

Beautiful Maker…

05 Thursday Feb 2026

Posted by Satin & Sand in 100 Day Creative Challenge, beautiful, Needlepoint, Poetry, Reflections, Winter, Writing

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Beauty, Creative challenge, Elizabeth Bradley, I am a Maker, Needlepoint, Poetry

_{© Joan Currie – My “Winter” needlepoint sewn into a cushion.}

I Am a Maker by Joan Currie

I love to behold beauty
in all its forms,
especially what the world offers
freely…
Rose-tinged sunrises,
a dragonfly resting on my hand,
cats’ eyes at dusk,
stones made smooth enough to skip.

But there is something nearly sacred
in making:
entering that quiet realm
where the hands know
what the mind cannot utter.

Nothing compares
to the birthing of my children,
those ultimate acts of making.

Still I take comfort in smaller
labors:
strands of embroidery floss,
skeins of wool,
tubes and palettes of paint.

And the ability to shape them
into something that lasts–
sometimes admired, worn or passed on,
carrying the warmth
of the hands that made it.