June—a favorite month to be outdoors—to breathe the nascent summer scents, to listen to birdsong and bellowing frogs and wear the warm cloth of the summer sun on bare skin. Evenings too, are especially sensual and sweet with fireflies (or lightning bugs), soft breezes, rustling leaves and rain or stars pulsing a sticky sky. It’s a perfect time to sit and write, read poetry and indulge longings of the creative sort. With that in mind, I let go a free flow of hand through brush and words come what may.

This June, I also watched and was engrossed in National Geographic’s program Genius: Picasso and was very inspired by his relentless pursuit of his artistry and his sad pursuit of women/muses often to the detriment of their lives. There is much debate these days about whether or not one can/should separate the art from the artist. Picasso was narcissistic, egotistical and highly competitive, traits I most often find offensive. However, watching the brilliant performance of the actors on a small screen, his story in hindsight and empathizing with Picasso’s process and pain as an artist, I was engrossed and inspired by his vision despite these flaws. Also with his circle of creative compatriots—Matisse, Gertrude Stein, Braque and others. I will read Francoise Gilot’s book Life With Picasso to get her take on their life together as his lover and contemporary artist. From the blurb: “Francoise Gilot paints a compelling portrait of her turbulent life with the temperamental genius that was Picasso.” Oh, and he was a poet too.

So this warm but comfortable night, I share these thoughts, words and paintings:

O me!
O Life!
A few pencil strokes between the o
in Picasso
and Grillo


tumbleweed a rusling breeze
nomads of the night sky


the unturned stone’s lost syllables


in the holy of the artist rides the shotgun












Ode To Summer ~ revisited

Some oldie but goody haiku and tanka for summer heat. Most have appeared previously on one or another of my blog posts.

for what ?





a cicada’s
raucous call for a mate
makes me wonder…
should I wear
my low cut
dress tonight


of shooting stars
a naked beach
and foaming waves
oh to be so seductive

Published: Take Five
Best Contemporary Tanka 2008


blue again
no summer sky
blue… that blue
deep into the wail
of a saxophone blue


Published: Modern English Tanka
Summer 2007

The Seduction of Romance



June and the Strawberry Moon (revisited)

Lightning bugs are out and about! This is a reblog in honor of the  solstice, full moon and lightning bugs/fireflies that keep the sun’s light pulsing throughout the short but dark nights.



thunder drums
the earth
returns the call
red roses issue
bullfrogs echo
rivers storm
however brief
that passion
eddies back
a plea from
the full strawberry moon
and her wild
goddess energy
pay attention
to these gifts

ag ~ 2014




Fireflies and Fiddleheads

Rain and Rust


Between all the self-talk —
and yearning for a potato chip.

If only I could paint this time
between rain and rust
how would that look?

Once I was a river wild,
whiskey notes, and
summer squalls bending light.

The day you asked
I could not explain
in search of some moment.

Despite all the doubts
it was worth the while
it takes to see fireflies

In the words you whispered,
wearing my wounds,
and the distance of blue.

AG ~ May 2016

A Sunday Stoll In The Rain


Blue Chicory and Queen Anne’s Lace

Aware are we now
where we are now 
and nothing more.
Our youthful dreams and desires bend toward
the graceful acceptance of simpler joys:

Tigerlilies calling forth thunderheads.
Blue chicory and queen anne’s lace 
that run along abandoned railroad tracks.
Meadows of ripening summer grass
anchored by a heaving stone wall.
Rockface punctuated with Prickly Pear
beside a muddy river minding its own.
Dogs lapping at the edge of a pond 
and joyfully rolling in fresh-cut hay.
Clouds holding their own conversations 
in a cornflower-blue sky.
Finger-sniffing rubs of tomato and basil
in a walled and weeded garden 
next to plants creeping back into wilderness.
Still air heavy and languid 
slow-walking in the rain.
Slow-waking and rising
to Sunday morning quiet.
Breakfast on sweet-tart apple pie
with smelly gooey farm fresh cheese.
Blueberry tea in a china cup 
with no handle 
and a curvy aubergine pattern.

The long day gives way to dusk
as tree frogs bellow their lustiness
and the summer moon slips through
billowing clouds until only

without your light –
the hurry of life

ag ~ June 2013

for Karen 
with love and gratitude
for sharing the lush and simple beauty
of our beloved land and time together.

A Summer Moon

A Summer Moon

born to
a summer moon
always yours
to hold

with golden curls
that honeycomb
the morning’s
early glow

through fields
woods and meadows
on pond seas

we play
catching rides
on children’s swings
laughing in the breeze

we hunt seaglass
the color of your eyes
tumbled by the shore’s
rocky waves

pray to the goddess
and converse
with trees
amongst the craggy graves

the warmth of tea
bread and butter
a smile through tears
on your face

we watch two eagles
soar and glide
alone and together
hearts fill with grace

this breath
of life but
a firefly’s

catch it
the sweet dimple
of evening’s
soft light

born to
a summer moon
always yours
to hold

a shooting star
blessed with grace
finds her way

for Robin ~ beloved friend forever

Rest In Peace ~ July 18, 1952 – August 13, 2012


Summer ku

wildflower honey
the sweetness
of yielding


wafting sky
bullfrogs bellow
my longing


calla lilies
I finger my hair
waiting for your next poem


long grass the apricot drift of late sun sky


fireflies eddy the long summer night

ag ~ 2012

a June romance

fireflies gently tilt and float
the night into my bedroom mirror
eddying their sparkling lullaby
a glance of light here and there

such short flights of fancy
and the lush brushing of leaves
together with bullfrogs bellowing
swells our longing onto the breeze

what maestro’s baton so sweetly kindles
June’s symphony of wafting sky light
pulsing rhythms inside and outside
my window this long summer’s night

ag ~ 2012

Glorious June

June is one of my two favorite months. It oozes heat and passion in the right mix especially at twilight:

twilight ripens
the rose red
ripens twilight

dusk between my toes the long day*

in the old meadow
the sky too
in this garden**

scatter my ashes
in a summer garden
as daylight ebbs
and colors ripen

warm moon on the rise pulsing fireflies

*first published Haiku Canada Review
** 1st published Blithe Spirit