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DW group

Hello Friends,

Please join me at my first book signing for my newest book of poetry.

Date: Saturday, November 4, 2017

Place: Barnes & Noble

1725 Arden Way

Sacramento, CA 95815

Phone: 916-565-0644

Time: 11 – noon

( The manager mentioned a book order for 15 books and I said, we will need more.

He warned me that attendance may be poor. Do you have family?  I said, No family. But I have friends.  So he increased the order.)

 

 

 

 

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Cover Art Flattened.indd

 

The Purple Place
363 Green Valley Road, El Dorado Hills, California 95762

 

NCPA: Northern CA Publishers & Authors is launching this book on May 28, Tuesday night at 6 p.m.

at The Purple Place. Please join the authors and poets whose stories and poems appear in this anthology. Yes, I have a piece

titled: Junkyard for Writers. If you can’t  join us for an autographed book, they are available at:

 

http://www.amazon.com/Golden-Prose-Poetry-Collection-California/dp/098260145X

 

 

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How to have an AHHH moment.

What is this Ahhhh moment. It’s that moment between the lst and last word of a haiku. It’s those moments  the haiku poet experiences before he captures each of them  with seventeen syllables.

I like to have an ahhhh moment everyday  and more often than not, I do.  And when I find the sun rising and setting day after day without such moments, turning each day into another ordinary day without notice, I know it’s time to intervene. How do I do this? By orchestrating, planning, creating, pulling, tugging and even conniving.

I received a book the other day. It’s a special book because the author is a new friend of mine. I leafed through the book  and set it aside. No, I’m not  going to read this now. I’m setting a special time for this.

The author will be pleased (or insulted) to know that I decided to take the book with me to my mammogram and bone density tests. I will sit in the waiting lounge, perhaps way beyond my appointed time, with one ear attuned to the calling of  my name. But it will be a pleasurable wait this time because I plan to read this book.

Ever since I made this  decision to read the  book at UC Davis Medical Center, it has been days of anticipation. Ah, I get to read this book on Thursday, I said over and over. I have another day to wait.

Well, Thursday is here. I got up this morning feeling I had a gift waiting for me. I’m off to my appointment with  book in hand.

You may want to join me.

Book title is: The Light, The Dark, and Ember Between by J.W. Nicklaus

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Poetry Writing Support Group for Teens

I met someone just like me  at my first Poetry Support Group for Teens. She was 12 years old. I started this group for teens whose grandparents have Alzheimer’s or other dementia related illnesses. She wrote three poems about her grandfather. I joined her and wrote a few poems. I could sense the poet in her and read my children’s book “Wordsworth the Poet.” By her reactions, I knew she understood and related to the character Wordsworth. I later signed the  book,  “You are Wordsworth”,  and gave it to her. I wanted to hold her and protect her from her deep sense of feelings and awareness but knew she wouldn’t need my protection. Here are the poems I wrote. Sophia gave me permission to use her name and will share her poems later.

Poem #1

Sophia

When I was her age,
Where did my pen take me?
To far away places,
Writing to pen pals
In Michigan, Germany
And even France.
It was my escape from
The tiny little village of my birth.

And here is Sophia,
This rainy Saturday afternoon,
Preserving memories
Of her beloved grandpa.

Shouldn’t she, too, be
Dreaming dreams
Of any 12 year old?
Frivolous, funny,
Texting messages
In a generation
Unfamiliar to me?

But this thief Alzheimer’s
Who came uninvited
Into her grandpa’s life,
Has given her another pen.
And she has grasped it,
Bravely, with all her heart.
She sits here, writing, capturing,
Preserving the Grandpa
She loves.

#

Poem # 2

Sophia’s Blades of Grass

“Go for that one blade of grass.”
I said. “Not the whole yard,
Just that one blade of grass.”

She took that one blade of grass
And wrote of her visit with her Grandpa.
Images of a doll held in his arms,
Her grandpa’s mind,
A library of memories,
Flow from her pen.

But there are so many more
Blades of grass.
And she’s taking another one,
And another one.

Alzheimer’s has become
A whole ball field and more.
Unlike a weed whacker.
She’ll take it one blade at a time,
Weakening that thief,
In her Grandpa’s name.

#

Poem #3

Sophia the Poet

Wordsworth, I found you a friend.
Her pen is as powerful as yours.
Her senses, like a thousand and one antennae,
Will blow your mind away.
She’ll be that friend
Who’ll sit next to you
Without saying a single word.
And she will know that you know,
What’s she’s saying in her silence.

For this is how poets are.
Wordsworth the Poet,
Meet  Sophia  the Poet.

#

My support group for teens is supported by the Alzheimer’s Association. Please call

916-930-9080 for more information.

My books “Wordsworth the Poet” and “Wordsworth Dances the Waltz”  ( Wordsworth’s grandma has dementia) , are available through major bookshops and the author.

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