Category Archives: Poetry

Beautiful Quilt With Dad’s Shirt Fabric…

16 Wednesday Oct 2024

Posted by in beautiful, Design, Father, Photography, Poetry, Sewing, Upcycling

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© Joan Currie – Our quilt in progress…

Grandad’s Quilt for You by Joan Currie

With needles keen, we stitch a quilt,
From Grandad’s shirts, worn soft with years,
The very ones you helped me choose,
Each shade of blue he held so dear.

The solid hues, the stripes, the checks,
Each fabric as familiar as he,
For birthday, Christmas, wrapped with care,
You’d place the gift upon his knee.

And oh, how he would smile so bright,
Holding aloft his cherished blue,
For all to see the color’s light,
That whispered of his love for you.

We measured then, with careful hand,
And cut the cloth in even squares,
Each stitch was placed with loving thread,
To weave together tender cares.

The backing soft, the lining pure,
Hand-quilted, tufted with delight.
This quilt now seems to you so sure,
A cloak that wraps you in the night.

You say it feels like his embrace,
His arms around you as you sleep,
And in the warmth, you find his grace,
In every seam his love runs deep.

My youngest daughter and I made the quilt shown above from my late Dad’s shirts. It was a wonderful project to do together and I am so glad that she suggested it! I know my Dad continues to be with her (and all of us) in spirit!

Beautiful Acorn (but not so beautiful squirrel)…

11 Friday Oct 2024

Posted by in Animals, Garden, Mammals, Photography, Poetry, Reflections, Wild animals

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© Joan Currie – The squirrel has stashed his acorns all over my yard.

The Rogue of My Yard by Joan Currie

In my garden once peaceful, in days of late,
A scoundrel returns – wrecking havoc, his trait.
Not the soft squirrel of a Potter tale,
But a beastly fiend with a bushy tail.

He clambers and clatters with ill-intent,
O’er apples rotting, their skins now rent.
Like billiard balls scattered across the green,
A trickster’s delight, a demon unseen.

With acorns stuffed in each nook and crack,
He piles his plunder no thought to slack.
The feeder he topples with impish glee,
Chasing away all the birds that flee.

A tyrant of trees, this devil’s dance,
He spares no corner, no happenstance.
The gutters rattle as apples roll,
From rooftop heights, his heartless goal.

O cursed creature, why dost thou stay?
To plague my yard both night and day?
Return to your woods, you menace black,
Please, or I fear, I might set a trap!

I’m afraid it is time to catch and release this squirrel to a woods far far away.

Beautiful Interior of My Sweet Home…

12 Thursday Sep 2024

Posted by in Art, beautiful, Daily Life, Flowers, Home, Photography, Poetry, Reflections, watercolor

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© Joan Currie – My watercolor of a vase with lemons after Vanessa Bell


My Sweet Home by Joan Currie

Within these walls, my heart does rest,
A haven wrought with love’s own crest.
The strokes of brush on canvas bare,
Birds in flight and animals fair.
Vermont’s wild lands in oil unfold,
Sunset’s fire, winter’s cold.

Here roses bloom in vases old,
Ceramic treasure finely scrolled.
Their petals whisper of the past,
Of father’s gifts – how time does last.
And glass that gleams, my mother’s hand,
In paperweights from foreign lands.

On shelves, the books of poets dwell,
Their words, like spells, my soul compels.
Photographs with faces dear,
In every frame, I hold them near.
This is my world, a soft embrace,
Where every corner finds its place.

Some speak of spaces clean and bare,
Of lives unbound by things they wear.
Yet here, amidst this cherished cache,
I find my peace and hold it fast.
For in each token, vase, or frame,
Life’s rich fabric, for now remains.

So let the world of minimal claim,
Their rooms untouched by love’s sweet flame.
For in my charming abode, I see,
The beauty that belongs to me.

I have just started giving my special treasures to my daughters for their own homes. I love seeing how my belongings look surrounded by completely different color and decorating schemes, and, my daughters’ own art and objects of affection.

Beautiful Falcon…

05 Thursday Sep 2024

Posted by in Birds, Nature, Painting, Poetry, watercolor

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© Joan Currie – My watercolor painting of a falcon.


The Falcon’s Spiral by Joan Currie

Upon the highway’s winding course I sped,
When, far above, a falcon soared and spun,
In widening gyres, a dancer in the sun,
The sky its stage, the world beneath it fled,
Each sweep, each turn, with majesty it led,
The climbing spiral, silent, graceful run,
Riding the breeze till earth and sky were one,
And all my thoughts were to its freedom wed.

Not mine, the wings that cleave the golden air,
Yet in my breast, a strange desire grew-
To feel the lift, the warm caress, the rare
Delight of flight that to the heavens drew.
Not to escape, but for the joy to share
A moment’s lightness in the sunlit blue.

Perhaps the joys of my first roller coaster rides and waterskiing around the lake come the closest to the feeling of flight that I craved that day.

Beautiful Koi…

30 Friday Aug 2024

Posted by in Art, Nature, Poetry, watercolor

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© Joan Currie – My koi in pond watercolor.

A Rare Moment with a Koi by Joan Currie

Beneath the ancient willow’s shade,
Where waters rest in jade’s embrace,
A koi of gold, with fins that played,
Arose to meet me, face to face.

Its form, a marvel, vast and bright,
With scales like sunlit autumn leaves,
It pierced the tranquil morning light,
As though it swan through silvered sheaves.

It broke the glassy surface wide,
A monarch in its water’s reign,
And in its gaze, both deep and wide,
I felt it knew my heart’s refrain.

A moment passed, yet seemed a year,
As time itself did lose its hold,
The world around so still, so near,
Was bathed in hues of green and gold.

In that calm, we two did meet,
A silent bond, no words did need,
For in the koi’s serene retreat,
I found a peace, profound indeed.

I came upon a koi pond with the biggest fish I have ever seen. One, in particular, surfaced and stayed very close to where I sat. It seemed we connected in that short time together.

Beautiful Farewell to Summer and a Quail…

23 Friday Aug 2024

Posted by in beautiful, Birds, Nature, Painting, Poetry, watercolor

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© Joan Currie – My watercolor painting of a California Quail

A Farewell to Summer by Joan Currie

I sense the shift, the whispered chill,
The tender breath of autumn’s will.
Where once the summer’s golden beam,
Danced lightly in a wistful dream.
Now lingers faint upon the air,
A fading warmth, too brief, too rare.

The roses, once in bloom so fair,
Now bow their heads in quiet prayer.
Their petals fall like summer’s tears,
While winds begin to wake my fears.
The squirrel gnaws on apples bright,
Then leaves them, half-consumed, in flight.

The clothes, once crisp beneath the sun,
Hang limp, their drying days near done.
No longer do they flutter light,
But cling, as if a ghost at night.
I stand in stillness, heart grown sore,
For summer passed, and nothing more.

I did not seize the season’s cheer,
Nor dance beneath the skies so clear.
Now autumn comes, with somber grace,
To steal the warmth I can’t replace.
And yet, I brace for colder days,
Winter’s chill in a frost-bound haze.

I spotted a California quail while walking in the woods today – a last offering, perhaps, of the summer season.

Beautiful Roses (sort of)…

15 Thursday Aug 2024

Posted by in Art, Flowers, Garden, Poetry, watercolor

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© Joan Currie – My mixed media painting of roses.

A Rose Bush with Barbarous Thorns by Joan Currie

I tended a rose bush with loving care,
In hopes her beauty might my heart ensnare.
Her petals bloomed, a velvet blush of red,
But soon I found her charm, a thing to dread.

Her thorns, like daggers, pierced my seeking hand,
Each touch a wound no comfort could withstand.
The blood she drew ran crimson on the earth,
A wicked price for such a meager birth.

No scent she gave, no fragrant breath of grace,
A beauty hollow, lacking warm embrace.
Where other roses filled the air with song,
She stood in silence, sharp where she was strong.

And though a flower crowned her once, then fell,
She offered little more than this to tell.
A bloom or two, in early summer’s light,
Then naught but thorns to meet my hand in spite.

Oh roses sweet, that gentle hearts adore,
‘Tis not enough – one might yearn for more.
The fairest face is not the fairest soul-
Without the perfume, beauty is not whole.

I finally gave up on this difficult rose bush and replaced it with a tea rose that had the most alluring fragrance. I wish I had done it years ago!

Beautiful Finding Happiness in a Flower…

07 Wednesday Aug 2024

Posted by in Art, beautiful, Flowers, Nature, Painting, Poetry, Reflections, watercolor

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© Joan Currie – My woman looking at a flower watercolor.


The Bloom of Happiness by Joan Currie

In a small and quiet village, lived a woman kind and true,
She helped her friends and family, no matter what they’d do.
Her heart was filled with charity, her hands with gentle grace,
She asked for nothing in return, just a smile upon each face.

But fate, with cruel fingers, wove a twist within her life,
She fell into a sickness, her body racked with strife.
She tried to mend her weary self, with strength she couldn’t find,
And so she called for those she’d helped, with hope they’d be as kind.

Yet each one had their burdens, and other tasks to tend,
They turned away, their busy lives, no time to help a friend.
Alone she faced her suffering, with tears and silent pleas,
Her heart ached more than body, as she fell upon her knees.

One morning in her garden, beneath the sun’s embrace,
She saw a sight that took her breath, and brought light to her face.
A flower, bright and beautiful, bloomed from a plant so plain,
A gift from gentle nature, to soothe her deepest pain.

In petals soft and fragrant, she felt a tender care,
A message from the earth and sky, that someone still was there.
Nature’s touch had reached her, when human hearts had failed,
And in that bloom, she found the strength, her spirit once more sailed!

I hold the gifts from nature so very close to my heart, especially in times of need. Every so often, I feel they are my late mother’s way of caring for me – still.

Beautiful Squirrels…

01 Thursday Aug 2024

Posted by in Animals, Art, Garden, Mammals, Nature, Poetry, watercolor

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© Joan Currie – My watercolor of a squirrel peering in my bedroom window.

A Troublesome Trio by Joan Currie

In the oak beside my house, there lived three sprites,
Three mischievous squirrels, with morning delights.
At six they’d start, with a thump and a leap,
On my bedroom roof, disturbing my sleep.

They’d dig up my tulips, so eager and keen,
Gnaw at my porch, where they often were seen.
Cracked acorns scattered, my yard was their feast,
These furry intruders, to say the least.

I grumbled and muttered, “A nuisance, no doubt,
These bothersome squirrels I can do without.”
Yet, one fateful day, my neighbors took heed,
They chopped down the oak, the squirrels left – Godspeed!

No more early wakes, no more tulips dug,
No gnawing on wood, no playful bug.
But silence grew heavy, the mornings so still,
I found myself missing their antics and thrills.

Now I wonder, where did they roam?
These mischievous friends, onto other homes.
Though I complained and wished them away,
I long for their presence at the break of day.

Be careful for what you wish for! After the squirrels left, a groundhog moved into my backyard – a much bigger nuisance than the squirrels ever were.

Beautiful White Ram…

06 Saturday Jul 2024

Posted by in Animals, Art, beautiful, Design, Mammals, Nature, Photography, Poetry

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© Joan Currie – Detail of White Ram sculpture by Federico Uribe – 2013

The White Ram by Gilbert Keith Chesterton (an excerpt)

Once a white ram, with curly horns
and deep brown eyes,
Roamed the verdant hills beneath
the azure skies,
In fields of green, he wandered
wide and free,
A noble beast, grand as one
could see.

His coat was pure, a snowy,
gleaming white,
That shone like stars on a crisp,
clear night.
With horns that curled in a majestic
sweep,
He stood as proud as ancient lore
runs deep.

I saw this charming sculpture of a White Ram by Federico Uribe yesterday. It was created using electrical wire, conduit, and keyboard keys. Check out his latest work (2023): lion, moose, turtle, and black lion, on his website.
I started looking around my house for old ethernet cables to see what I might create, as well. Stay tuned!

© Joan Currie – White Ram sculpture by Federico Uribe – 2013
© Joan Currie – Face detail of White Ram sculpture by Federico Uribe – 2013