Robyn Hood Black - children's author, poet, artist

 

Greetings, Poetry Lovers!  Mid-July, just about... how did that happen? 

 

Summer adventures with a grandbaby and grand-toddler have literally taken me out of the news cycles for some welcome child-centered outdoor escapes.  With the visiting wee ones this week, we set up a little portable pool in the back yard.  (A perfect next activity after trucks in the sandbox, by the way.) I'd ordered the pool with the baby grands in mind, and also, for our Keeshond, Rookie, who just turned two.  He loves the water and will immediately stick his whole snout below the surface and blow bubbles - as well as dig and splash.  Hence, the small water bowl in our kitchen which I refill a zillion times a day, but I digress. 

 

Our oldest grand-dog, Maggie, is a lab - so water-love is in her genes.  She and her just-turned-three-year-old boy have already been splashing in a little plastic pool in their back yard this summer. 

 

Dogs and summer just go together. Here is a poem I found in one of my antique magazines, by a P. C. Fossett.  I didn't discover anything about that name online.  But this poet knew kids and dogs!

 

From the August 13, 1892 edition of GOLDEN DAYS....

 

 

My Chum, Jack

 

by P. C. Fossett

 

I have a chum that sticks by me,

   In fair or cloudy weather,

And when from books and tasks I'm free

   We're always seen together.

When my playmates give me the shake

   I don't sit down and grumble;

I call for Jack, and we two make

   A game at rough-and-tumble.

 

Jack is not now, and never was,

   For beauty celebrated.

But "Handsome is as handsome does,"

   My copy-book once stated;

And though some folks may criticise

   My chum in form and feature,

One look into his honest eyes

   Proclaims a faithful creature.

 

No slave could my commands attend,

   Were I a sovereign royal,

As does this staunch and honest friend --

   This subject true and loyal;

And when we're rambling wood and field

   I fear no hostile stranger,

For Jack would die before he'd yield,

   Defending me from danger.

 

In pond and stream we swim and wade,

   Until my anxious mother

Frowns and declares that she's afraid

  Some day we'll drown each other. 

And when my trowsers' legs are wet,

   And Jack's coat saturated,

My father says, when home we get,

   "Two vagabonds well mated!"

 

Now, do you want to see my chum?

   Just wait a half a second;

I'll whistle for him, and he'll come

   Almost before you've reckoned --

See! here he is with wagging tail

   And bark of salutation.

Of all the chums that never fail

   A dog beats all creation!

 

Hard to argue with that. 

 

One of my poetry-art-beautiful-life chums who never fails is our amazingly talented Tabatha, hosting the Roundup this week at The Opposite of Indifference.  Thanks, Tabatha!

(Note - I'll be in and out of town this month - and next - so it might be a couple-few weeks between my splashes in the Poetry Friday pool.  I hope you are having a lovely summer!) 

HAPPY FOURTH of JULY! Still dipping in and out of town and such this summer, but please go see Mary Lee at A(nother) Year of Reading for this week's Roundup and for links to all the hosts from July through December. Cheers! Robyn

Quick Wave, and Happy Solstice! I'm in and out and taking a wee blog break for this week and next week, but be sure to catch the June 20 roundup with Carol at The Apples in my Orchard, and the June 27 roundup with Tanita at fiction, instead of lies.  Thanks, Ladies - and see you all in a coupla!  I hope to pop into a few posts in the meantime. :0)

 

 

Greetings, Poetry Lovers!

 

In the midst of all the turmoil this week, I'd like to pause and wish a Happy Pride Month to all who celebrate.  

 

Here's the middle part of a very old poem praising rainbows, by Romantic poet Felicia Dorothea Hemans (1793-1835).  It's not about Pride Month, of course, but perhaps it will bring a smile.

 

Excerpt from "The Rainbow" 

 

But mark! what arch of varied hue
From heaven to earth is bowed?
Haste, ere it vanish, haste to view
The Rainbow in the cloud.

 

How bright its glory! there behold
The emerald's verdant rays,
The topaz blends its hue of gold
With the deep ruby's blaze.

 

Yet not alone to charm thy sight
Was given the vision fair;?
Gaze on that arch of colored light,
And read God's mercy there.

 

I found a reference to the poem here, with a link to the full poem here. 

 

For a lovely poem celebrating May 17, 2004, the date Massachusetts first issued marriage certificates to same-sex couples, please find Lesléa Newman's triolet, "To Have and To Hold." It begins with these lines:

 

On May 17th, two by two, side by side,

Surrounded by love, we were bursting with pride.

 

You can read Lesléa Newman's blog post describing that jubilant day here.

 

This poem was also included in the National Geographic volume for young readers, The Poetry of Us, edited by J. Patrick Lewis and published in 2018. 

 

This week the Southern Baptist Convention, the country's largest Protestant denomination and the one I grew up in, passed a resolution calling for the reversal of the U.S. Supreme Court's 10-year-old nationwide legalization of same-sex marriage.   (Click here for the PBS story, while we can still consult PBS.)

 

Why LGBTQ love is so threatening to some straight folks, I will never understand. 

 

While we're on the subject, and since we're literature lovers,  let me give a shout-out to a long-time young friend of mine, Garrett R. Chase, founder and executive director of the Queer Liberation Network.  Based in Texas, QLN's mission is "Empowering queer and trans individuals to thrive by providing inclusive support, resources, and advocacy." Garrett has put together a wonderful fundraiser which kicks off later in July, a literary auction!  He's a voracious reader and talented writer himself, and he loves making connections.  There are some awesome signed books, critique opportunities, and other treasures to bid on here. Check it out! 

 

And be sure to check out the Poetry Friday Roundup at There is no such thing as a God-forsaken town hosted by our lovely Ruth this week.  She's on a stateside visit from Uganda, and she's sharing fireflies with us. Thanks, Ruth!

 

Greetings, Poetry Lovers! 

 

Just a wee birdie update here this week. Two weeks ago, I shared a photo of the house finch nest in the hanging fern on our front porch.  All FIVE babies hatched, and they're all still here.  I had feared we had a single mom doing all the work, but when Morgan and her human baby chicks were here last weekend, she spotted the male.  No deadbeat dad after all!

 

Audubon tells me they will fledge between 12-15 days, which should be any time now.  They barely fit in the nest!!

 

Here are a few lines from Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) about bird nests, and social "climbing," perhaps?

 

 

For every bird a nest (79)

By Emily Dickinson

 

For every bird a nest,

 

Wherefore in timid quest

 

Some little wren goes seeking round.

 

Wherefore where boughs are free,

 

Households in every tree,

 

Pilgrim be found ?

 

Perhaps a home too high —

 

Ah, aristocracy ! —

 

The little wren desires.

 

The lark is not ashamed

 

To build upon the ground

 

Her modest house.

 

Yet who of all the throng

 

Dancing around the sun

 

Does so rejoice?

 

 

Wing your way over to see Karen for this week's Roundup! Thanks, Karen.  :0) & Congrats on the recent family wedding!  

Next week we'll be on the road to celebrate our first baby grand's THIRD birthday.  How did that happen so fast?  Will catch up when we return.  Happy SOON-to-be-JUNE!

Happy Holiday Weekend!  I've been dancing with deadlines this week and will have a happy houseful these next few days, so I'm just waving.  Feeling deep gratitude this Memorial Day for all who have served and those who died for the values which our imperfect nation has embodied for 250 years, and which I hope will hold.  Thanks to all military families.  The Roundup this week is being hosted by the multi-talented Michelle, who welcomes us with red-winged blackbirds. 

 

Greetings, Poetry Lovers!  Greetings from "Travelers Nest," to be precise.  We live in Travelers Rest, but when we bought this house a few years ago, I had a little sign made for the front porch that says, "Travelers Nest."

 

I'm always excited when birds nest near us.  (Though I've had to stop putting a spring wreath on the front door; we need to use the door!) 

 

This year we replaced an old bird house with a new nesting box for bluebirds.  Two, actually.  I've seen activity at both (one out front and one in the back), but know the back one was definitely used, with a mom and dad going in and out over recent weeks.  It's quiet now; curiosity got me today, so I lifted the little side door which has a hard plastic "wall" to peek through.  Definitely a lot of nesting material going on (I'd seen pine straw through cracks in the bottom), but also remnants of, well, birds living there - so much that I couldn't see through.  So I slid my cell phone through the opening at the top and took some pictures.  Honestly, I can't make heads or tails of the messy situation in there, but I hope it led to baby birds which fledged while we were gone (maybe during the wedding week or such).  I'll have to clean it out for the next time!

 

At the front of the house, I did see cardinals going in and out of the Chinese Fringe bushes we have at the front porch, maybe a month or so ago.  I haven't been able to tell if they've really used the nest they built, as it's hard to see without making a ruckus, and I haven't wanted to encourage the dog to bark at them through the railing! 

 

But one nest has for sure resulted in eggs.  No sooner had I brought home a couple of hanging ferns for the front porch than I started seeing a small brown blur when I'd go out there. So small and so fast; I haven't been able to 100 percent identify it. It's not a Carolina wren; we used to host a pair every year back in Georgia. I was thinking sparrow (there are several kinds, of course!) but now I'm pretty convinced this little mama is a house finch. Yesterday after she'd flown off for a minute, I grabbed my phone and held it above the hanging basket, and I discovered the picture above - four eggs with one very brand new hatchling! 

 

So now I'm keeping the dog mostly away fom the porch and trying to give Little Bird Mama a wide berth if I have to open the door. I can see the silhouette of her wee brown head looking at me when I do! She's literally too fast for me to properly i.d. when she takes off. 

 

As the amazing David Sibley says:

 

Birders often struggle to distinguish the streaky brown birds, lumping them together with nicknames like "LBJs" (for "Little Brown Jobs"). Click here for more from BirdwatchingDaily.com. 

 

I haven't seen Dad; that would help. But the eggs look like house finch eggs. 

 

**FRIDAY MoRNiNG NEST UPDATE!** - ALL the eggs have hatched!  I snapped a quick (blind) pic on my phone when Mama briefly flew off this morning, and the nest is full of very fluffy babies!  I think there are four. :0)

 

Any bird nests in your realm?

 

Here's a little tribute to all of our feathered families, as a metaphor for our human ones, from British poet William Barnes (1801-1866):

 

 

HOME'S A NEST

 

O Home is a nest of the spring,

Where children may grow to take wing.

 

A nest where the young folk are bred

Up, to take on the work of the dead.

 

Where babes may grow women and men,

For the rearing of children again.

 

Where our children grow up to take on

Our own places, when we are all gone.

 

All forsaken, when children have flown,

Like a nest in the bush-top alone.

 

Where our children are bred to fulfil,

Not our own, but our Father's good will.

 

O, Home is a Nest!

 

 

The Home Book of Poetry, compiled by Dana Estes, Estes & Lauriat, Boston, 1882.

 

We have so many wonderful books of bird poetry, several by talented members in our Poetry Friday community!  And, if haiku is for you, here's a little shout-out for the 2023 collection from bottle rockets press, Bird Whistle: A contemporary Anthology of Bird Haiku, Senryu & Short Poems, edited by Stanford M. Forrester/sekiro & Johnette Downing. I have a couple-few poems in there.  Here's the link! 

 

Thanks for coming by, and be sure to wing your way over to see Ramona at Pleasures from the Page for the Poetry Friday Roundup!

Greetings & Happy Mother's Day weekend! Extra hugs for those who have a hard time with this holiday. I actually flew south this weekend for a wee visit with my own mum.  See you next week, but be sure to check out the Poetry Friday Roundup hosted today by Sarah Grace Tuttle. (My phone is not letting me copy and paste the link, much less a hyperlink.) ;0)

 

Greetings, Poetry Lovers!

 

We're still catching our breath after a whirlwind but joyous weekend, celebrating the wedding of our son Seth and his lovely bride, Ginnie.  Those two had made things official last November at the courthouse, but we had the ceremony and the fun to-do's around the I-do's from Friday to Sunday. 

 

Seth picked a poem to be read during the ceremony, and my hubby Jeff ended up doing the honors. He was familiar with this work. 

 

"For Marriage" by poet and priest John O'Donohue has been shared at many a wedding, if the internet is any indication.  I couldn't find an official link for it, so I'll just share a couple of the eight couplets, the fourth and fifth:

 

 

As kindly as moonlight might search the dark,
So gentle may you be when light grows scarce.

 

As surprised as the silence that music opens,
May your words for each other be touched with reverence.

 

 

O'Donohue was born in 1956 in County Clare, Ireland, and died suddenly and much too soon in 2008.  You can learn more about him and his work at his legacy website: https://www.johnodonohue.com/.  I haven't listened to this yet, but the public radio program On Being has a link to an interview originally aired in 2005 here, with a YouTube video here. 

 

The poem, the address by pastor Brian, the vows and other elements were moving and beautiful.  Another wedding moment that was charming beyond description was when our grandson Sawyer, two-going-on-three, served as ring bearer.  We had all been practicing, but one never knows. Parents Morgan and Matt were in the wedding party, so they dropped off Sawyer to sit with me as they processed in.  Just before his big part, I slipped a green velvet cape over his head and let him take the two rings from their box.  With a little encouragement launching him forward, Sawyer walked solemnly to the front and gave the rings to Uncle Seth and Aunt Ginnie.  All to the tune of "Concerning Hobbits" from Lord of the Rings playing over the sound system (Ginnie's doing). Precious!

 

Speaking of magical beings and Ireland and such, as I write this on Thursday, it's May Day!  The fairies have been whispering to me in recent months, and I've been looking all over our property trying to find the perfect place for a secret project - a fairy garden. I've been collecting items from a dollar store and from Amazon, and got to work with a wheelbarrow and tools this week, hiding my progress until today.  I hope the wee grands love it!  It was all - ahem - for them, of course.  Yep.  For the grandbabes. (There's a short little video on my artsyletters Instagram & Facebook pages).

 

It might be May, but you can still go back and enjoy this year's April/Poetry Month Kidlit Progressive Poem, which just ended its journey with oh-so-talented April this week at Teaching Authors. 

And be sure to catch this week's Poetry Friday Roundup, which has moved to A(nother) Year of Reading  with our wonderful Mary Lee!

 

 

Greetings, Poetry Lovers!  We are more than halfway through Poetry Month. Time flies! 

 

April 17 is (was) International Haiku Poetry Day.  You can learn more about that here.

 

Each year, among its celebrations, The Haiku Foundation hosts the Earthrise Rolling Haiku Collaboration.  Haiku poets around the world are invited to submit haiku on a particular theme, with the editors choosing a "seed" poem to start it all off.  In theory, folks would add their poems at dawn, wherever they are.  But it's Thursday afternoon as I write this, and I just added a poem. It's dawn-o'clock somewhere. 

 

You can click that link to read about this year's theme and read several poems editor Jim Kacian included for inspiration, as well as the seed poem. 

 

In short, the poems relate to glaciers this year.  An apt image and metaphor for so many explorations.  

 

In snooping around online about my own area's geologic history, I wondered how far south glaciers came in the ice age.  They didn't cover the Southern Appalachians, which is one reason we have one of the most biologically diverse temperate regions in the world.  The geologic history (lots of species moved down here when the ice encroached), and the topography and climate (many variations of elevation and all kinds of microhabitats exist) - plus the stability of the mountain range - make for amazing discoveries around every bend. 

 

Because a haiku needs juxtaposition, and I like to write poems connected to my own sensory and lived experiences, I wondered if I could somehow incorporate the recent wildfires in our area. 

 

The Table Rock complex fire was the largest in upstate South Carolina's history, burning more than 15,000 acres last month. (My husband and I have a special connection to Table Rock, as that's where he proposed decades ago when we were at Furman, and we hiked it again year before last.) Turns out it also has a pond with roots in the Ice Age!  Who knew?  I don't know how the pond fared with the fire, but I hope it will live to see another mellinium or ten.  

 

 

wildfire smoke
a Pleistocene pond
in the watershed

 

Robyn Hood Black

 

 

Here's to slowing down for a poetic moment or two this week and this month....  To read the rolling haiku, some of which are responses to other posted poems, click here.

Our multi-talented and ever-reflective Jone Rush MacCulloch has the Roundup this week; Thanks, Jone.  Remember to follow the 2025 Kidlit Progressive Poem. And for all-things-Poetry-Month in the Kidlit bloggie realm, see Jama's roundup here.

I won't have a post next week, as it's our son Seth's and his bride Ginnie's wedding weekend! :0) Enjoy the rest of Poetry Month, and I'll see you with the May flowers.