Creativity exists within constraints or it perishes. At the moment of their growing, at the moment of their giving shade, at the moment of their falling. Once upon a lively hour. There grew a sprightly flower. But before I can rightly say sprightly. The flower struggled daily and nightly. Trapped under the ground in a seed. It wanted only to be freed. So it pushed and sought for the top. To live with the other crop. But to no avail the flower did remain. To struggle until the next rain.

Thanks for stopping by my blog. I am currently caring for my sick mother and so, while I have uploaded some past works my new work will likely be slow in coming. Have a lovely day! Friday, April 1, 2011.

Observations, Poems, and Essays by Francesca Hampton. I am a 60 something Californian, former world traveler of the back packing variety, a Buddhist, a writer, photographer, and teacher. Sunday, May 22, 2016. Ah, who was it coloured that little frock, my child, and covered. Your sweet limbs with that little red tunic? You have come out in the morning to play in the courtyard,. In the end it is this.

The denizens had died weeks earlier. Of traps that snapped vertebrae. They lay with eyes like blackberry grains,. Serves yous right for poaching potatoes. And shitting in the grocery basket,. Bag them up and bin them,. But opening the drawer was sadder,. The mess of paper, leaves, string,.

A look into the tortured soul of someone in love. Wednesday, May 7, 2014. Sometimes you let someone right in and sometimes it can take months or years to open the heart. But once you let someone in you can never get them out. What is the most dangerous four letter word? MS, I Like you a lot. Wednesday, February 9, 2011. Cyndi will get up tomorrow, go out and play with the kids. I will dream about being with them and .

Saturday, August 08, 2015. Long, striated and with sharp edges. Strange, given the plant is so heavy that the wind has dislodged it or maybe its upended state has more to do with the number of fronds. The pot has lost its centre of gravity. There it sits on its side like a beached whale or a creature otherwise out of its natural habitat. Why do mother in laws get such bad press? His uncle owned a farm .

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front the only essential facts of life. And see if I could not learn what it had to teach and not, when I came to die, discovered that I had not lived Henry David Thoreau. Getting in trouble on the farm. James-Younger Gang Hits Hot Springs. You sit alone, contemplating,.

Me, Keeping it not-so-brief. Me, keeping it brief.

You turn toward me, your lips move, wanting to speak. A literary compass for finding your voice. Still Life with Oysters and Lemon. When we take in the lushness o.

Words are empty vessels into which we pour meaning. In the restless air, for it to begin, for something to begin, for there to be something else. For the power to rise, the courage to leave. The show is over, all is over? But where then is the hand, the helping hand.