In Verses & Song

I am pausing my blog due to family needs at this time.  When I am able to write, sing and share again, I hope you will be here to read and listen.  Thank you for understanding, and for supporting my creative ventures.  Sincerely, Stacie 

Renewal Tears spilling  welcome rain upon skin refreshment washing scars healing hurt mending pain resilient   hearts revived in sunlight we arise   radiant       Copyright @ Stacie Eirich October 1, 2022 *Author Note* Renewal  is a tri-dodeca poem of 3 stanzas, 4 lines, 3 syllables per line.  As October rushes in, I've decided to embark upon a new creative journey....in podcasting! This is something that I've thought about doing for a long time, and the encouragement of my writer friends and library coworkers has spurred me forward.  Poetry for Peace Poetry for Peace, a podcast that finds the light in verses, will debut on October 19th, with episodes each Wednesday and Saturday. The trailer for Season 1 is up! Find it on Spotify, Apple, Amazon, Google Podcasts, and more.    📝 In this month's writing news , I'm pleased to have new poems out in two print publications:  Last Leaves Magazine, Issue 5: Growth, Fall 2022.  https://www.lastleavesmag.com/last-leaves-issues T

Image Credit: https://fineartamerica.com/f eatured/whisper-in-the-wind-jessel-miller.html I am the Wind Woman I am the Wind Woman whispering through the trees rustling their leaves with laughter twirling the air in constant rhythm  of motion, bright and cold in early spring, playful with hints  of warmth, evoking smiles born from breezes that bring them out of their docks to sail smoothly across rippling waters, their flags flapping to the tempo of my voice beating to the rhythm of my breath.    I am the Wind Woman lightly passing over your skin , delighting in gentle afternoons beams of sunshine floating on my dancing wings  open and welcoming as blossoms, their faces   brilliant and shining, awakened to the buzzing of bees, arisen  to the trilling of birdsong.    I am the Wind Woman whipping wildly in the night proclaiming my power sending you down the path with my strong gusts and while you sleep, I too shall rest stilled until the dawn  when with my wispy fingers I’ll slip through

🌞Every summer, I travel with my children to visit our family in the place I once called home. Here are a few photos taken, along with a new poem composed during our visit this July. Summer’s Ardor Sunlight spills through baby blue, Stretched across a span of puffy white,  Clouds spun plentiful and plump,  White winged in still repose,  Silence broken by the coo-coo of a gray dove,  She perches in a thicket of blue spruce,  Carries grubs to her waiting nestlings,  Takes flight swiftly, body ample yet lithe.   Day seeps in slow and warm, a turtle’s pace,  Echoing the long, throaty, round coo-coo of the dove, Time lulling in summer’s stippled light,  Hours elongating with heat and light and color and life,  Pink hydrangea, rose petals opening to a waking sky,  White lacy bouquets swaying  on green stems in soft breeze,  Hush of dawn broken only by birdsong,   Hum o f steady stillness  dappled in sunlit shadows.  Summer’s smooth jazz quartet ,  Of light and warmth,  melody and repose,  St

A few weeks ago, I took a trip home to visit my family up north. Early summer is a beautiful season there, even the rains are soft and shimmery. Nearly every day I was there I took time to sit, observe, and write. Here is a poem that came from that respite: Summer Pastoral This morning’s sky is blue-gray, strewn with clouds.  The air is cool and fresh, purple-green-gold leaves rustling gently  in thick, sturdy trees. A windmill circles in constant motion as geese pass, honking and calling across the pond.  They swim across in twos and threes, then perch  upon the grass, nipping and squawking at each other,  proclaiming their right to this bit of land.  A parading procession of them pass through the lawn,  black necks stretched high, beaks opening  to guide their goslings along.  The waters of the pond ripple and flow, fast, constant - a soothing stream.  The high, musical chirping songs of birds mingle in the air  with the drone of a mower and the hum of engines on a highway.  Streaks

Summer comes with the promise of sunlight and opportunities for new adventures and, hopefully, some rest and relaxation. Here's a previously unpublished poem I wrote last summer, after my children and I went on an impromptu day beside the sea.  Beach Day Our toes sink in the sand, cool wet ripples washing over them, spraying our faces with salt water in green-blue waves. My daughter rushes into them, face lit with smiles  as she plunges in for a swim — fearless, exhilarated.  My son digs into the warmth of the sand for shells, "Mama, come play!" he shouts to me, building a moat for our feet to dangle in, joyfully stamping upon it, the thrill of its creation and destruction equally delightful. "Mama, look!" my daughter emerges from the waves, carrying a perfectly rounded shell with a tiny hole in its center. "For a necklace," she says, sharing her treasure. My son lays down beside me, sun beaming bright and hot upon us.   "Mama, bury me!

With the sights and sounds of summer nearly upon us, I'm enjoying every lingering moment of spring. It's still cool enough to enjoy mornings and evening outdoors, listening to chirrups of birdsong, feeling a soft rushing breeze. It's a luxury to sit outside on a weekend morning with nothing calling to me on the calendar. Here's a new poem written on one of those mornings.  While Having Coffee on a Saturday Morning I feel the day awaken, fresh with golden light blooming, see tulips opening, pink petals waking to splendorous sun,  hear the frogs croaking, l ow throaty moans against soft winged trills above, watch squirrels rush up the bark tree branches luminous with green,  listen to the rush of motors on the highway beyond the whirring buzz of a saw behind the fence,  sip slow the caffeinated warmth, linger in rustling breezes carrying leaves into delicate dances,  observe the bright wings of a redbird hopping along the lawn, quick and inquisitive  he searches for break

Happy National Poetry Month! Spring is beginning to blossom, and I'm looking forward to a month celebrating the works of poets and writing a poem a day. I’ll be following the prompts at https://www.napowrimo.net/  where there are already early bird prompts.  Today, I'm also celebrating the publication of a poem in The Bluebird Word, a literary journal. Check out the poem & journal here:  https://thebluebirdword.com/i-am-learning-to-be-still-by-stacie-eirich/ I'm happy to share a poem-a-day aloud in short videos posted to my YouTube channel this month. I'll be choosing a wide range of poems and poets to share, as well as a few verses of my own. You can follow my daily read-aloud playlist here:  National Poetry Month, April 2022 You can find many poetry resources for home and in the classroom at  https://poets.org/national-poetry-month  including a sign up for a Poem-a-Day in your inbox. Here's a previously unpublished poem that I wrote last April during National