You can press the old year between the pages of a book, but alas the new chapter always writes itself.
—Terri Guillemets
Saturday, December 31, 2005
Memories old & new
There are those who try to bottle the old year for safekeeping but at midnight the cork always pops.
—Terri Guillemets
“But there never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do, once you find them...”
—Jim Croce, “Time in a Bottle,” c.1970
—Terri Guillemets
“But there never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do, once you find them...”
—Jim Croce, “Time in a Bottle,” c.1970
Monday, December 5, 2005
Heart purrs
When a cat speaks it's because he has something to say, unlike humans who are the great refuse containers of speech.
—Terri Guillemets
—Terri Guillemets
Monday, November 7, 2005
Free with a fever for home
Only those in tune with nature seem to pick up on the energy in wind. All sorts of things get swept off in the breeze — ghosts, pieces of soul, voices unsung, thoughts repressed, love uncherished, and a thousands galore of spiritual ether. Perhaps wind is an emotional rush because emotions are rushing by.
—Terri Guillemets
—Terri Guillemets
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Or puppy play
If purring could be encapsulated, it would be the most powerful anti-depressant on the market.
—Terri Guillemets
—Terri Guillemets
Wednesday, October 5, 2005
Friday, August 19, 2005
Autumn's Sister, Winter
Autumn may lose her colours,
But memory is a rainbow.
Spring a distant grandchild, reborn—
Greens, yellow, pinks, we sow.
Winter, in her belly white and gray
Nurtures many-coloured seeds,
For if Summer was her lover
He planted his future deeds.
Earth's seasons are a family,
A wheel and spinning prism,
Rotating by subtle degree—
Sometimes we think about only
The bland colours we can see,
Forgetting—rather sadly—
About the vibrant ones to be.
—Terri Guillemets
But memory is a rainbow.
Spring a distant grandchild, reborn—
Greens, yellow, pinks, we sow.
Winter, in her belly white and gray
Nurtures many-coloured seeds,
For if Summer was her lover
He planted his future deeds.
Earth's seasons are a family,
A wheel and spinning prism,
Rotating by subtle degree—
Sometimes we think about only
The bland colours we can see,
Forgetting—rather sadly—
About the vibrant ones to be.
—Terri Guillemets
Sunday, June 5, 2005
Sunday, May 1, 2005
Used to love the darkness
I used to love the darkness
But the sun is my new best friend
As soon as I embraced him
He put my misery to an end.
—Terri Guillemets
But the sun is my new best friend
As soon as I embraced him
He put my misery to an end.
—Terri Guillemets
Saturday, February 26, 2005
Present at supper
If wine were a lecturer
I would attend her classes
And duly roll-call "here"
With a couple of full glasses.
—Terri Guillemets
I would attend her classes
And duly roll-call "here"
With a couple of full glasses.
—Terri Guillemets
Friday, February 18, 2005
Left sip if pen, right if typewriter
The word "beer" can be typed using only one hand on the QWERTY keyboard. That means if you're a writer, you can use the other hand for drinking it.
—Terri Guillemets
P.S. The same is true for "tea" and "water" — you know, for morning writing.
—Terri Guillemets
P.S. The same is true for "tea" and "water" — you know, for morning writing.
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