Varenna Writers' Ukiahaiku Contest Entries

Karin Fitzgerald alerted the club to the Ukiah Haiku Contest, deadline, February 26, 2010. Here are some of their entries:

the wet water flows
over the silver blue fish
in the little pond

Ellie Rutigliano

real snow, some fake snow

ice skates, ski poles, dark goggles

Winter Olympics

haiku can be fun

I’m glad for a chance to try

it may lead to more

Inger Larsen

SLL a bles are hard

to write in Writing Class today.

I will try another time

Bernice Schachter

the earth is warming

roses pushing out and up

sunshine caused all this

the silly white dog laughs

prancing about to be loved

a pat will do it

water rushing over rocks

foam appears at the rushing

our feet are cleansed

it was that moonlight

made everyone so looney

a hypnotic sight

awake, awake, called the seeds

frigid cold, the pounding wet

calling all to be

Sally Tilbury

raindrops spilling down my windshield. somewhere
soldiers’ mothers’ tears are mine

pebbles of unrest
are not washed away
by forces of the main stream

something is sharing
my morning muffin
a mousie in the pantry?

summer pleasures
ice tinkling in glass
cool contemplation of navel

Joyce Cass

the things that I love

are always close beside me

home means happiness

you might cover me

with bubble wrap so I don’t

break my bones falling

Shirley Johnson

step, slide, step, step, slide

whirling skirts and do-si-do

square dance melodies

light bursts from the sky

the thunder gods are bowling

electricity

please remember this

no black cats under ladders

even catching mice

Look, bare feet dangle

Ten toes wiggle, splash, and play

Then little fishes nibble

Karin Fitzgerald

Words from the Wise: On Friendship

"The most valuable gem you can own is a precious friendship that allows you to shine on your own."
Bernice Schachter

"Friendship is the spine that keeps me rightside up.
Friendship fuels the engine that is my heart."
Karin Fitzgerald

More Words from the Wise (on Love)

Love is a renewable resource.
Shirley Johnson

Love: the best show in Vegas.
Bernice Schachter

Love: the best show anywhere.
Dolores Fruiht

There's always enough love to go around, even when you don't know where you've misplaced yours.
Susan Bono

Love is a strong emotion; when honest, it improves those involved.
Sally Tilbury

Helpless: A Drabble by Sally Tilbury

Two large men wearing green scrubs placed her on the gurney and began to roll toward the surgery. Our four-year-old daughter appeared to be a small bundle on the cart. I was terrified. She had been born with strabismis, or crossed eyes. Early surgical intervention was so that her eyes and brain could work together. This was her second surgery.

As the doors of the scary elevator closed, the small bundle raised her finger toward one of the men and said, "I'm not going to do this today, but I'll come back tomorrow."

The elevator door clunked shut.

CARVING A BEGINNING--from the memoir, LEGACY: A LIFE CARVED IN STONE by Bernice Schachter

Since my early childhood, the pride and love I have had for the first three sculptures I ever created now remain carved only in my memory. The first one was a small bird whittled out of a large bar of ivory soap. I was not given the "fifteen minutes for my claim to fame" because my mother was too busy with two younger siblings and my father paid little attention to any of his children. He was just eking out a living following the Great Depression which occurred after I was born in 1925.

The second work of art was a papier-mâché sculpture, a very tall giraffe, painted yellow with black spots. It was exhibited on my bedroom dresser for many years.

I did the third piece in my preteen period, winning a Certificate of Honor for a farm complex sculpted in a large sandbox in Warinanco Park in Elizabeth, NJ. This great park was our playground. In the spring and fall we fished and boated on the lake, ice skated and sledded in the winter. The summer was spent at the Jersey Shore where I was content to build sand castles on the beach in Bradley.

It was only after I married, at the too early age of twenty, that I began to work as a serious artist for the next fifty years. This book is about the four hundred sculptures I have carved in stone that will tell the story of my life as I lived it.

Reflection by Elisabeth Levy

            It is an October evening and I am sitting on my balcony at Varenna. The sun is just about ready to say good night and disappear behind the mountains. Her last rays leave a golden rim, and even from behind the scene, she has the ability to change the colors.

            I look down on Lake Nagasawa. In front of me I see the little island. The trees are already unrecognizably dark. However, the whole line of trees mirrors in the lake. One tree catches my eye. It has tiny leaves, well visible in the water. They quiver in the gentle wind, I can’t hear their rustling, but they seem to have fun seeing their own mirror  image.

            In the back to the right the shore is getting darker too. The lake takes on a soft pink color.  The last little boat is leaving and the ducks seem to have a meeting. They are chatty, the sound muted by the distance. Maybe they have to tell each other the happenings of the day and then discuss where they want to rest for the night.

            The sky changes color. The strips of clouds reflect the sun, first yellowish white, then  pink. Even the birds I see glow while flying through the clouds. The sky’s color turns from red to orange to yellow to green to blue, becoming a true rainbow. The darker the sky gets, the lighter the lake is. The pink changes into a light orange,  Every part of the lake is different.

            The sky seems to have a last spur of colors until slowly, very slowly the night takes over. More and more lights are visible. It is quiet and peaceful. A good time to go inside and be thankful for living in such a beautiful place.

Don't Forget the Six-Word Memoir Challenge!

Writers,

A friend just emailed me this:

A college class was told they had to write a short story in as few words as possible. The instructions were that the short story had to contain the following three things:

(a)     Religion (b) Sexuality (c) Mystery

Below is the only A+ short story in the entire class.

"Good God, I'm pregnant! I wonder who did it?"

This reminds me to remind YOU to check out Smith College's online magazine, Smith Magazine: www.smithmag.net. They are looking for six-word memoirs in many categories--the best of those collected get put into books!  Check it out!!