1. This month a poet offers his opinion of what it is to be an American.
  • Do you agree with his description? What would you add or delete?
  • What would you list and what the reasons for the list you chose?
  1. Another subject this month is that of healing. Some choose to find healing in nature. Do you? What does nature offer you? How does it make you feel?
  2. The unexplored is always tantalizing. What have you failed to explore, but always wanted to delve into? What is stopping you?

Hold me

just

hold me

 

the way you hold

a child

who comes

to you crying

hoping to find

love

and loving

while learning

to accept the pain.

 

Hold me

that I may know

there is still

love

and loving.

The little widow with her head held high

Determined to be brave and not to cry

But as I embraced her my own tears showed

For I knew in her heart the silent tears flowed

I really miss the hills of the Allegheny.

The spirits of my ancestors were always there.

Each night I could speak to them of ages past.

Many centuries had passed since they first came,

Leaving behind places where their forefathers had worshiped.

Honored places of ancient heroes and distant family.

They dared all things to make possible a new way

True freedom to own their own lives, a dream of children

A chance to grow their own crops, to be free of oppression.

To leave a place for their children, to know as their own

To worship their own God as they felt was the truth.

There was music in the air that blew through

Singing of joyousness in family love and keeping close.

Part of my soul will always wander in those hills

With me, I have memories that fill me with joy.

Sometimes I can find a special place in the mountains,

Where echoes from my hills ring my ears full of music.

Send my body where you will when I go, but

Let my soul return to these hills for all of eternity.

GLASS RAIN—poetry by Margaret Roxby

“THE LITTLE WIDOW” is included this week for National Hug Holiday, June 30. The widow in this poem was a dear poet-friend of the author’s.

REFRACTIONS—a poem by Robert Roxby

“ALLEGHENY HILLS” is included this week for National Hop-A-Park Day, July 1. The poem was found in the author’s poetry journal.

THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS—poetry of Kathleen Roxby

“HOLD ME,” is one of a series of poems the author wrote on the subject of depression. It is included this week for National Hug Holiday, June 30.

 

 

Readers who write in response to one of the prompts listed each month in Splintered Glass, may see their work presented here on the last week of that month. Though poems are preferred, short prose work will also be considered for publication.

Guidelines for submission:

  1. List Splintered Glass prompt which inspired the work in the text of your email.
  2. Submit material to be published as Microsoft Word document. Submission should not be longer than one page. Editing will not be provided, please be careful.
  3. Include two brief sentences about the author. Example: Michael Whozits is the author of A Book and The Curl, a blog. He is a retired pilot and avid surfer.
  4. Submission must arrive no later than the 3rd Wednesday of the month in which the Splintered Glass prompt appeared. Only one reader’s submission will be selected for any given month.
  5. Send submission to karoxby@gmail.com.

 

  1. The color pink gets a national day in June. What is your opinion about that?
    1. Why pink? Why not another color? Why pick June for the honor?
    2. Do you like pink? Why or why not and how strong is the feeling?
  2. There are three special honor days in June that touch on relationships: National Old Maid’s Day, National Hug Holiday, National Best Friends Day.
    1. Do you have or did you once have a best friend? More than one? How did the friend(s) affect your life, how is your life different because of knowing them?
    2. Do you think the term “old maid” should still be in use? Why or why not and how would you define this term or what term would you choose instead?
    3. Public Displays of Affection (PDAs) have often been the subject of discussion. Do you see a hug as a PDA? Do you feel some people are offended or leery of a spontaneous hug? Why do you think this might be? Does this say something about a person’s culture?
  3. Three special days this month suggest, maybe, attention on the outdoors: West Virginia Day, National Daylight Appreciation Day and National Hop-A-Park Day. Which of these, if any, sparks your interest? Why? Tell the world how you would like to celebrate one or more of these days.

Pink has no more heat

Than a single candle

On a birthday cake.

Pink is fragile

As a flower petal.

Hiding

behind a crusty guardian,

Pink is new skin.

Pink is a timid color

And speaks in a voice

Very like a whisper.

It was not sudden

the awakening from famine and fatigue

but rather a slow awareness

that bright faces

(miniature suns with yearning eyes)

peered into the windows

at the darkened room;

their gold glances piercing

laser lances spotlighting whorls

of dust and neglect

 

I felt familiar shapes

long slumped in repose

in shadowed places

emerge

assuming postures of new design

 

The desert room

no longer indistinct and gray

alight with the searching beams

began to flower:

dust-devils danced

in prismatic maze

 

I knew

(the wild surprise of it!)

that I had only to open the door

for they had come to remind me

that I, too, am one of

the golden children of the sun

We were young men from Wheeling–

Mac and Wally and Ted and I–

Thrown together by chance, or fate

When we joined the *CCC.

We had such good times

After we returned home.

We became life-long friends.

 

Mac and Ted lived alone in town.

Mac’s and Ted’s stepmothers threw them out after

They came in too many times after midnight.

Walter only had his dad who lived in Pittsburgh,

But he was able to stay with an older sister.

 

All four of us once tried to sell home appliances.

Mac was the only one who ever got really good.

He ended up always selling something.

 

Ted was the first to get killed in an auto accident.

Unfortunately, Mac ended up an alcoholic.

Lost his wife and children because he never quit.

 

Walter finally went into his dad’s trade—house painting.

He was phenomenally good at it, too.

He taught me (Bob) enough to earn a living.

Walt ended up in life very lonely. He had no children.

And his heart broke when his wife died.

 

I managed to get lucky, married an Irish gal

Who straightened me up. Of course, I wasn’t alcoholic.

We lived together fifty-four years, happily.

It has been very lonely since she died but,

I do have some wonderful memories to cheer.

 

*Civilian Conservation Corps