Ode to Orange Slice Cake

Last year, my youngest daughter, Chris, baked me an Orange Slice Cake for the very first time, but I was unable to enjoy because of my illness. I'm hoping she will indulge me again this year and bake another one because I will gobble it up! The following poem was written three years ago.

 

Ode to Orange Slice Cake

By Bobbi Rightmyer

Although butter is no longer my friend

it is hard to resist the creamy fluff it makes

when blended into sugar so pure and so white.

The eggs combine to give more texture still,

to the all-purpose flour that forms the cake.

Yummy dates so sweet

with pecans and coconut

give an irresistible taste delight to make a mouth water.

But it is the candied orange slices that make this dessert

a heavenly, to die for treat.

Orange slice cake comes but once a year

at a time when Old St. Nick is near. 

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Windsday

WINDSDAY

Oak leaves dance and twirl

like a brown whirlwind littering the air
as the unusual windsday blows through.
Robins going from treetop to tree
teeter off course in the gusty gale.
Bags, napkins and other garbage
take flight to pollute other areas.
Flags snap to attention,
stiff in the cold air;
weak tree branches break and bow,
as young saplings dip to the ground.
Ladies over 60 protect tightly permed hair
with plastic rain caps,
while the under 40 crowd let their hair
blow wildly in the storm.
Garbage cans, Christmas decorations and all manner of yard art
have been gobbled up by the current
and deposited down the street.
Umbrellas turn inside out and no longer protect from the rain,
and doors are ripped wide open with the cold, wet blast.
Makes you kind of wonder if mistral gusts are meant to scare us away
or draft us closer together,
or maybe it is angel kisses from on high
giving us a whiff of what's to come.

Hiding Again

HIDING AGAIN

Hiding from the world,
sealed away by choice;
fearful of what?
Heart palpitations, cold clammy sweat,
feeling the world is out to get me,
irrational thoughts won't go away.
There's a safety in cloister
with comfort items around
in every pile of books you'll see,
offering a calm serene.
Many call it nesting,
having treasured items within easy reach,
but when this behavior continues on
and interrupts your life,
this nesting syndrome has gone too far
and a solution must be found,
only ...

rapid breathing takes over again,
and the tightness in the chest returns,
these aren't only mental ailments,
but physical manifestations,
so I hid from the world again.


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Book Mention

The Bluegrass Bookshelf from the Lexington Herald-Leader on Sunday, August 21st, gave us a shout out. Thanks everyone!!

From Press Release Distribution

From Press Release Distribution (PROLOG):

PRLog (Press Release) - Aug 01, 2011

"The newest addition to Arcadia Publishing’s popular Images of America series is Harrodsburg from local authors Bobbi Dawn Rightmyer and Anna Armstrong. The book boasts more than 200 vintage images and memories of days gone by."

A Blurb on World News

From the World News website:

"Soon to be released from Arcadia Publishing is Images of America: Harrodsburg, written by Harrodsburg’s Bobbi Dawn Rightmyer (writer) and Anna Armstrong.(photography). The book will be released the week of August 8th, but is already up for pre-order on several different websites: Amazon Barnes and Noble Arcadia
As of this moment, we are not sure when the book launch and signing will be, but we will keep you up-to-date. The book will also be for sell in several local
business, as well as Lexington and surrounding areas."

The Night Has Ended

This is another poem inspired by a photo by Dan Felstead of Wood and Pixel Narratives.)



THE NIGHT HAS ENDED



Frightening sight, an apparition from the past,
even by day can be immensely dangerous place,
with many unsolved mysteries and grave danger.
Determined to seek out the truth,
a secret from the past
which can force things once thought long gone,
thus could make things happen even though we have
difficult decision to decide our path of existence.
Streaks of red, the color of blood, mix with rain the color of the sky
Chase away the sunset, bringing forth the dawn,
but it is like the day would end up with a horrible death
even though the shimmering reflection offers the peace of day,
the sunset usually offers
a raging night could end with a horrible death.

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Mysteries

(This photo is copyright of Dan Felstead of Wood and Pixel Narratives. Although it doesn't exactly match the tone of the poem, the color are breathtaking. The "...great estate of an enormous heart..." could be the Church - use your own interpretation.)

MYSTERIES



Night clouds hang over the fast approaching dawn,
still holding the dark captive, under the light of the moon.
Twin evils revel a danger with the largest house,
the great estate of an enormous heart,
feeling trapped, a prisoner,
like a women from the dead, come to life,
but seeking the warmth and life from the living.
The light from the moon continues to gleam in the night mist
and it is here an imaginable paranoia intrudes;
time for the woman to follow a new destiny.
It is a strange and disturbing time,
trapped, chained,
unable to follow the different fates or
to what will happen from one life to the other.
Her secrets are now in danger,
no longer able to penetrate the disguise,
unaware of the dangers.
The night continues toward lighter hours,
ancient knowledge,
multiple mysteries,
warping the bands of time to cross the plain,
leaving behind the troubled curse weighing heavy on her mind.
The sun rises blood red at dawn
hanging almost frightful over the countryside.
And even as the dark passes, the mysteries remain
the web has been spun with terror and mystery
as the fissures continue to expand into ever-deepening whispers.


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Care and Feeding of Nightmares

For anyone who would like to purchase my 2nd chapbook of poetry, "Care and Feeding of Nightmares" - you can email me at:

careandfeedingofnightmares@gmail.com

with your snail-mail address. The books are $5 each plus $2 for shipping and handling. I hope to have PayPal set up on my blog in a few weeks for payments, but currently I can only accept checks or money orders. I will mail out the book on the day I receive your order. You can also buy the books at J. Sampson Antiques on Main Street in Harrodsburg. Thanks to everyone who buys a book!

Time

TIME

I want time to blow the fluff from a dandelion.
I want time to blow a bubble that sparkles like a rainbow
as it bounces on the breeze.
I need the time to see how many licks it takes
to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop.
Give me time to smell the roses and lilacs, the herbs and wildflowers.
Give me time to taste a fresh, juicy peach, the perfect tomato from the vine -
Rocky Road ice cream.
Time to feel my lovers arms around me;
time to nuzzle with my little tadpole;
time to tell my girls "I love you."
I want to hear the serenade of frogs on a hot summer night,
time to hear the red-tailed hawk calling to his mate.
I need time to see the beauty of nature,
be it God, Goddess or Spirit - thank you.
Thank you for the time you've given me on this earth;
and if it is in your power, allow me to remain just a little longer.

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Wake Up and Live

WAKE UP AND LIVE

I can't see my way around
the dark veil of depression
increasingly squeezing in on my life.
Even medications are not enough to control the suffocating blackness.
Occasionally, tiny specks of happiness are sprinkled through my life,
like bits of candy canes in peppermint ice cream -
sharp, but sweet, lessening the edge of torment.
I've live half my life, so why don't I feel better about myself?
Why does this torture continue,
causing nothing by hopelessness and pain?
Life is too short to live in misery and despair.
I've got to wake up and smell the fresh,
tantalizing fragrance of my family,
my life -
I must wake up and live.

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Bright Future

BRIGHT FUTURE

Out of the fallen dusk
night draws near,
and a stranger, who is not a stranger,
approaches with a soul shaped by remembrance and loneliness.
The persistent strain of moans and groans,
don't rule out the possibilities.
The shapes of the stories and descriptions
handed down from roots and blood and soul;
form their own destiny.
Indulging in fanciful attitudes
will only lead to sadness from the past.
So return to live the life you never got to live,
the uneasy days,
the invasion of privacy,
the great mystery is finally over.
The future awaits, and it is a bright future indeed.

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