by Ethel Mortenson Davis
A great cat
stretches her
elongated muscles
in the morning light,
sending a yawn
rippling along
her wiry body,
paying little attention
to the scurrying ants
on her ground.
Terra
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, Poetry
Dance of the Iris: Fertile Land, Desert Land
Dance of an Iris
a photograph by Sonja Bingen
Iris in the Desert
a photograph by Ethel Mortenson Davis
Note: The time of Iris blooms is nearly done. In fertile southern Wisconsin the Iris dance in sunlight and the intensity of spring. In the high desert Irises, especially a profusion of Irises, is a miracle.
Filed under Art, Photography
The Journey of the Elephants
by Thomas Davis
the journey of the elephants
One day in early June
Shook trees and shook the peaceful ground
And even shook the moon!
Then, with a movement huge and slow,
The herd began to run,
And thunder pealed amidst the hills
So loud it shook the sun!
Note: This was the first children’s poem I wrote. We were going to college in Oshkosh, Wisconsin, and Sonja loved to ride on my back and call me her elephant herd. Mary had just been born and was in her crib while her older sister and I played in our small living room, and so this small poem was born.
Filed under Poetry, Thomas Davis
Tassel at Opera Garnier
A photograph taken in Paris, France by Alazanto, Kevin Davis, our son
Filed under Art, Photography
The Booth
by Ethel Mortenson Davis
Our son would not last
another night.
We stopped to have coffee
at a corner restaurant.
The woman in the booth
next to us said,
“Lemar, I told you
to sit down and shut up,
or I’ll slap you
up the side of your head.”
The little boy sat down
and then stood up,
not knowing what to do.
Finally he sat down.
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, Poetry
Uncover My Eyes
by Thomas Davis
Uncover my eyes that I may look
And see the mountains covered with shadow,
The tambourine of stars in the sky,
The trumpet of the new moon!
Uncover my eyes that I may look
And see the rain cloud tent over the earth,
The rain slant like small grey spears into the earth,
The small rivers flowing away from flinty rock!
Uncover my eyes that I may look
And see her dancing to the melodious sound of the harp,
Her feet moving like the wind-blown blossoms of cherry trees,
Her hands clapping in time to the movement of stars!
Note: This is a love poem I wrote to Ethel when we were both young. These and the children’s poems I am posting were written in the 1960s and 1970s. Reading these, I find I have lost the young poet’s lyricism. But I still love Ethel. A lifetime love is still possible.
Filed under Poetry, Thomas Davis
Colorful Sea Shell
by Alazanto, Kevin Davis, our son
Taken June 15, 2008
Filed under Art, Photography
Reflections of a Country Girl for her Mother
by Ethel Mortenson Davis
Once, when the creek
had swelled its banks in spring,
and I had run to meet its new boundaries
to build a raft again
that could carry me down the Little Sandy
toward lands unknown,
I was sidetracked by a patch
of blue and yellow violets—
too many to let go unnoticed,
found among the wet and shady places—
and I forgot about the countries unseen.
And in fist-fulls I came running,
sharing them with you—
and you received them well,
arranging them in glass jars,
teaching me to love
the spring beauties and things:
The funny-faced Holstein calves
and the timid chickadees
who came in December
to snatch your winter’s crumbs.
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, Poetry
Joy in Threes
A Photo Essay by Ethel Mortenson Davis
Leg Pollen Sack on a Honey Bee
Great Purple Hairstreak
Eggs of a Long-Tailed New Mexican Black Bird
Filed under Art, Essays, Ethel Mortenson Davis, Photography
