Kissing Winter

Over at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Gillena asked us to collaborate for the Holiday Season. So, of course, I flew to the Poetry Foundation, borrowed two lines from “The Snow Fairy”, by Claude McKay: “My heart was like the weather when you came/The wanton winds were blowing loud and long”, added my own bits, and the result is… well, collaborative poetry.

“Kissing Winter”

Between you and me, Yule
is love, bedecked and solsticed
with a caress happily waning
and kisses waiting to be born.

I heard you shout into winter;
and my heart was like the weather when you came,
the wanton winds were blowing loud and long.

I feel you, my all… as the sun
and I sing of miracles and rebirth.

Between you and me, Yule
kissing winter

and mistletoe.

“Winter Love”, by Nico Wittgens
via

Growing Our Twiglets

“A Twiglet is a short phrase. Or a word. Maybe two. Its aim is to “prompt” a flow. A thought. A memory. If something comes to mind, write. A polished piece isn’t the goal; creativity is. Poetry. Prose. Short lines. Whatever you create is a success.” ~ Misky

Several friends (and some strangers) have asked if I would consider hosting weekly fiction, poetry, or just writing prompts. The simple answer is… no. I will not. But worry not, my Wicked Luvs, for there are some wonderful places already offering what you’ve been asking for. Here is my short list:

Imaginary Garden with Real Toads – “a place that always welcomes Followers and Visitors ~ every prompt and challenge is open to anyone…” Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays (poetry, and the occasional fiction prompt). I host a poetry and flash fiction prompt at The Garden about once a month.

Prompt Nights – a different topic every week. Writers should “feel free to take the subject in whichever direction [they] desire. Previously written work is more than welcome.” Fridays (fiction and poetry).

The Twiglet – as stated in the opening quote, “a Twiglet is a short phrase. Or a word. Maybe two. Its aim is to “prompt” a flow. A thought. A memory. If something comes to mind, write. A polished piece isn’t the goal; creativity is. Poetry. Prose. Short lines. Whatever you create is a success.”  Tuesdays.

Poets United – “a community for poets who blog.” All week (poetry prompts, interviews and more).

dVerse – “a place for poets and writers.” Monday, Tuesday, Thursdays (poetry prompts and a bit more).

I shall continue hosting Dark Poetry for the Cruellest Month, in April… and Witches in Fiction, in October. However, if twice a year doesn’t satisfy your Magaly-hosting needs, come and visit the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads—you will find me there once a month, hosting Poetry and Flash Fiction with Magaly. Yep, I’ve just written “hosting” 4 times and “Magaly” 3 times in the same paragraph. I must love to Magaly and to host. Fine, make that 5 and 4 for a deliciously uneven 9.

So, my Luvs, here is to growing our twiglets together… in the friendliest of word-gardens.

“Little Prince”, by Su Blackwell
via

Old and Young, I Dance

When my bones were new and my soul already old, my laundromat was a river. On Saturdays, we scrubbed grime from fabric until fingers bled clean. We smacked tough stains against stones, laid our garbs to be kissed by the sun, while the river cleansed fatigue and sweat from our flesh.

When my thoughts were young and my mind still old, the river was Gaia’s milk, her tears, her blood. On the Winter Solstice, we sat on the west side of the riverbank with the dying Sun… We faced east, waiting for the Sun to be reborn. From across the river, sunlight kissed treetops and skin.

I am far away from my river, my laundromat, her milk, her tears, her blood. My bones and thoughts are nearly as old as my soul. The Sun still dies and will again be reborn. On the Winter Solstice, I stand on the west side of my terrace with the dying Sun… I face east, waiting for the Sun to be reborn. From across the street, sunlight kisses treetops and skin. Shiny eyes soak in the new warmth, breathe in the world, smile, and close—I am dancing by the riverbank… I’m young, I am old, I’m young…

in the dark,
winter births the sun
and all life

.
the wee notes…
The Twiglet #3 (“from across the room”)
Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Tuesday Platform
* If you are here for The Twiglet or The Garden, then you are already done. If not, read on…
.

Tomorrow, the Northern Hemisphere welcomes the Winter Solstice. Yep, my Wicked Luvs, the baby Sun (a bunch of fantastic people) and I will be celebrating the shortest day of the year. Well, I’m actually celebrating that the days will get longer (but don’t you tell the dark I said that… I’ve heard Lady Darkness can hold a grudge). Anyhoo, I always welcome the reborn Sun with something yellow and yummy—usually an orange. But it’s freaking cold outside. So this year, I’m opting for soup.

Roasted Kabocha Soup

Ingredients:
– 1½ cups of roasted kabocha squash, cubed
– 1½ cups of water
– 1 teaspoon of coconut oil
– 2 tablespoons of pecans, crushed and roasted
– Ground cumin, dill, salt

Preparation (about 45 minutes/239 calories):
– Preheat oven to 375°F. Coat the kabocha with the coconut oil, place on a baking sheet (lined with parchment or foil). Bake until the squash is a bit browned and soft (about 28 minutes). Let the squash cool a bit, then remove the peel from the flesh. Set the (yummy crunchy) peel aside.

Add the water, cumin, dill and salt to saucepan. When it comes to a boil, add the squash. Simmer on low for 5 minutes or so. Let it cool for a bit, blend, and yum-yum!
Roasted Kabocha Squash Soup

While the squash cools a bit, chop the peel and mix with the pecan. It makes a delicious snack.
Kabocha Squash Peel and Pecans

Or, if you are feeling wild—I often do—add the mix to the soup.
Roasted Kabocha Soup with Pecan

Happiest Winter Solstice, my Luvs.