The universe called this week…
Why do I feel as though each of these is linked?
The Nevermores poetry prompt:
“texture”
I traded mountains for desert
snow for spring
white for green
Moved from alder and glass and stove
to suburban shiplap
countertop covered in mail
And a HOLIDAY POEM SWAP
welcomed me home
Shower of gifts from Robyn Hood Black:
a most delightful found poem & glossy reproduction of my pup; Robyn found four textured items that have found their way into Bonny’s tummy
gorgeously crafted, vintage earrings – my initials!- of brass letters and pen nibs dotted with crystals
original color sketched notecards, truly one of my favorite things
My Bonny Lies Over the Bathmat
(in her own words)
found by Robyn Hood Black in blog post by Patricia J. Franz
Dec. 8, 2022
the scales
tallying seven months
bathmats- sweet
stuffies – sweet
tissues – sweet
socks – sweet
family – definitely, joy
Thinking about texture on the long drive home…then greeted by a deceiving green. Desert green. This is one of the poems I composed from The Nevermores word prompt: texture.
desertscape
foothills alight in green
if you thought: not a desert sheen
you’d be wrong
like peach fuzz
on a dowager cheek, undetected
unless you know to look
tell-tale signs
appearance of youth
ahh- spring cometh!
though you know, it is only
temporal glow of gratitude
for a timely downpour
no crepe-y aging,
she is sun-toughened
no small, single mole
calluses pock the hillside
nary a weed survives
still, from a distance
teddy bears beckon
–cholla’s hypodermic bouquet
a killer mirage
the desert staged
creosote waves, awakened
by recent rain
best guest, didn’t stay long
splashy hello, perfumed trail
then disappeared-
introvert that it is
©draft, Patricia J. Franz
January 19, 2023
photos ©2023, Patricia J. Franz
…and then came across this gorgeous reflection that ends a 2019 documentary THE BOOKSELLERS that Rotten Tomato calls “unputdownable.” (I have not watched it; it was passed along by a friend who highly recommends watching). I mean… TEXTURE!
All this and it’s POETRY FRIDAY, hosted this week by one of my NEVERMORES poetry partners, Marcie at Marcie Flinchum Atkins.
Marcie is the author of WAIT, REST, PAUSE
and she is showcasing it with great companion books that all curious children will love.
She crafts beautiful haiku for up-close photos she takes on her frequent nature walks; she’s a librarian-extraordinaire (her website offers incredible teacher resources); and she may be THE MOST ORGANIZED WOMAN I know!
Patricia Franz is a kidlit writer and published poet. She believes children, dogs, and sourdough have a lot to teach us about life, joy, and wonder. She has raised two boys, four dogs, and holds a master’s degree in Theology with a focus on children’s spirituality. Patricia, her husband, her Bernese Mountain dog, Bonny, and her sourdough starter split their time between the Arizona desert and the Sierra Nevada mountains. 
Lots of glorious texture! I don’t often get to see the desert, but I am fascinated with the so very different textures it offers from my usual landscape.
Happy New Year, Patricia – and thanks for featuring my Swap gifties. I love leaving a PF post with a new perspective, and today I leave with two – the ‘green’ sheen of a desert (not how I normally think of deserts, even if fleeting) and the ‘book, too (reading) its readers in real time.” Love all the layers and textures here this week!
You offer so much in this post, Patricia! I love seeing that “sun-toughened desert” – such a contrast to your last few PF posts. And Robin’s gifts – fantastic! Even your opening is poetic:
I traded mountains for desert
snow for spring
white for green
Yes, the universe did reach out to you in many ways this week.Thank you sharing it.
I searched for a definition of ‘texture’, Patricia, & part of it was the “quality that defines something”. It seems your entire post is defining, a desert, special gifts, the feelings of books, each one with so much to love and appreciate. Thanks for this rich, “textured” post.
I feel my soul somehow resides in the desert, so lost myself in your beautiful poem with one image after the other that I have seen and now hold close. The “hypodermic bouquet” is simply spectacular!
Oh Patricia, hello, so glad I managed to come to Poetry Friday today. Your post is a treasure of texture and poetic beauty. I enjoyed all of it. I am not surprised to see the desert in your poem! You bring it alive.
Janet Clare Fagal
I loved your images, the textures in the desert. I’m fascinated by cacti, the shape and the texture that says: stay away! Rain, when it comes, is a temporary visitor, isn’t it? Any green so brief. I drove through the Nevada desert recently, and saw it in your poem.
A beautiful post. Lovely gifts. Textures of words and images.
I enjoyed reading your textual transcripts Patricia. I noted the contrasts of the different environments and enjoyed the metaphorical comparisons you employed. It is such a joy to find such stimulation in settings -and clearly you found it in your travels. As Margaret noted, you have captured texture in both words and images. I found myself stopping to savour -‘foothills alight in green if you thought: not a desert sheen you’d be wrong, like peach fuzz on a dowager cheek, undetected unless you know to look.’ Great imagery.
You’ve woven all of these words and images into a fabulous textured tapestry of a post. Wow!
What a collection of textures! This bit made me laugh:
“teddy bears beckon
–cholla’s hypodermic bouquet
a killer mirage”
And I love the idea of a book reading ME!
Oh, my gosh! Where to start? I love, love, love ‘The Booksellers.’ Thank you for that quote. I. have snapped it up for my journal. And, just the word, texture…it holds texture with the “t” “eh” “x” “ture” sound. Such a rich word. I think I must play with it too. Thank you, Nevermores! “Peach fuzz on a dowager’s cheeck.” Yowsa…that is a seriously sharp description. Well done.
Wow, you really ripped into the texture of the desert, Patricia! I love the cheek fuzz and that and the temporal glow of gratitude! Gorgeous.
Patricia, your post is a potpourri of splendor. Everything pops. Your desert photos take me back to a conference in Tuscon. We were across the street from the Sonoran Desert. The vegetation was unlike anything I ever saw. Thanks for the silent moments of peace.
Rose is right! The contrast between your two locations. What texture differences! Thank you for your sweet words.
I looked up “cholla,” and totally get the “hypodermic bouquet.” Ha! True. My own kiddo (now a young adult) has a small collection of cacti that sit in our front window, trying their best to make do with the wan New England sun. I enjoyed the poem very much.
Thanks for this bevy of texture flowing, crawling, pointedly poking Cactus-style, all through your post Patricia! And I would welcome soaking up a bit (and sketching) in your Sun-drenched desert, it’s pretty cold and overcast here in Chicago, thanks for all!
This is such a *textured* post, Patricia. This stanza is so layered — it makes its own haiku.
the desert staged
creosote waves, awakened
by recent rain